They sat down on the log while she dug into the leather pouches and withdrew the biscuits Beth had provided that morning.
“Here you are,Elliott,” she said, offering him one.
The boy gobbled it up in a flash; then he burped and wiped his mouth.
“Beggin’ your pardon,” he said. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
She handed him another biscuit, which he promptly devoured.
“A growing lad such as yourself?” Duncan said. “It’s no wonder youswallowed both those biscuits whole.”
She watched Duncan tousleElliott’s shaggy blond hair and wondered what the boy would do if he knew he was sitting next to the famous Butcher of the Highlands. WouldElliottrun away, crying in terror and screaming for his father?
Or would he be thrilled?
She compared Duncan’s current behavior to his manner on the night he’d abducted her at the fort and found itallvery confusing and difficult to comprehend. Who was the real Duncan? At the moment she felt no fear of him, nor anger. In fact, she quite admired the way he talked to the boy.
“Tel me about this wolf you were tracking,” Duncan said toElliott. “What does he look like?”
“It’s a she,”Elliottreplied. “She has white markings, more than gray, which makes her hard to see. She blends in with the flock.”
“Clever wolf,” Duncan said. “Does your father know you’re lost? Did youtellhim you were hunting the white wolf?”
“Aye. He didn’t want me to go at first, but I told him I’d come back with her fangs in my sporran.”
“Have you seen her today?”
“Nay. That’s the problem. I’m lost, and she’s probably feasting on my pa’s sheep right now, while I’m not there to watch over them. Me pa’s probably pissin’ mad.”
“Sounds like you need to get back to your flock.” Duncan stood. “Go help the lady mount, then get in the saddle with her. I’lltake you through the pass, and we’llfind your father.”
The boy started off toward the horse but stopped and turned. “I should thank you, mister.willyoutellme your name?”
“It’s Duncan.”
“Are you a MacDonald?”
Duncan glanced briefly at Amelia and paused before he answered. “Nay, lad. I’m not a MacDonald. But I’m a friend.”
The boy smiled knowingly. “You don’t want totellme, do you? Are you a fugitive?”
Duncan chuckled. “Something like that.”
In fact, it wasexactlylike that. There was more than one reward out for the Butcher’s head on a stick.
“You’re not the Butcher, are you?” the boy suddenly asked, his eyebrows flying up.
Duncan glanced at Amelia again, then calmly replied,
“Nay, Elliott.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, “because I’m going to join the Butcher’s band of rebels one day.”
Duncan merely shrugged and spread his arms wide, in an expansive gesture, as if to apologize for being a nobody.
«Well, even so,”Elliottsaid, turning back toward the horse.
“I won’ttellanyone I met you.” He yanked his spear out of the tree. “And I’m glad my aim was off.”
