“No!” Duncan shouted, fearing Erik’s blade would slide into Moira’s throat.
But before the word was out of his mouth, the wolfhound leaped through the air and dropped Erik and Moira. Sàr was snapping and growling over them like a wild beast, while Moira and Erik writhed on the ground.
Moira’s screams filled the air as Duncan raced to them. When he reached them, the dog had his teeth in Erik’s neck. Duncan lifted Moira to her feet with one hand and grabbed Sàr’s rope collar with the other.
While Sàr barked and strained against his collar, Moira flung her arms around Duncan and buried her face in his neck. His knees felt weak as relief coursed through him. She was all right.
“Enough!” he commanded Sàr, who was still pulling at his arm, fighting to get to Erik.
He knelt beside Erik, who lay ominously still on the ground. Judging from the blood pouring from the ragged cuts on his throat, Sàr’s teeth had found a vital vessel.
Erik was choking on his own blood. Duncan should be glad of it, but he was not. Erik was struggling to speak so Duncan leaned down to hear him.
“You’re a man who looks after his own,” Erik said between gurgling breaths. “I want ye to take care of Sarah.”
“Sarah?” Duncan asked, bewildered by the unexpected request.
“She’s your half sister.”
“Sarah is your daughter?” Duncan asked. How could such an evil man have begotten a wee angel like Sarah?
“Her family threatened to go to my chieftain when her mother died, so I had to take her in.” Erik’s voice was growing faint. “I didn’t intend to let her become a weakness, but…”
“I will look after her. Always,” Duncan said and squeezed his father’s hand as the light faded from his eyes.
Duncan was heartened to discover that his father did have a kernel of decency. Though he had shown no regard for his children in life, Erik had used his last breath to assure the welfare of his young daughter.
* * *
Duncan buried his father on the beach and buried his bitterness with him.
He was grateful to Ian for keeping the other men back. Ian understood that Duncan needed to do this alone.
With each shovel of sand, he felt released from the burdens of his childhood. All his life, he had felt something was wrong with him because his father refused to claim him. Once he was past boyhood, Duncan had understood that the fault lay not with him, but with the man who had sired him. Now Duncan finally believed in his heart, as well as his head, that his father’s failure was no reflection on his worth.
Duncan was his own man, and he had chosen to be a man of honor.
Erik had been right about one thing. Having to prove himself to everyone, especially to himself, had driven Duncan to become a renowned warrior. But unlike his father, Duncan employed his skills for the protection of others, and he showed mercy to his enemies when he could.
Duncan thought of his own son living under the oppressive influence of Sean MacQuillan, and he paused in his shoveling to rest his hand on Ragnall’s shoulder.
“Will ye teach me to fight like you do?” his son asked.
Ragnall had explained that he ran at Erik because he saw him making the same move that had killed one of the men Duncan had left to guard them. Though the lad’s interference had nearly caused a disaster, it showed he had the natural instinct and bravery that would serve him well as a warrior.
“Aye,” Duncan said, meeting his son’s serious gaze. “’Tis a Highland man’s duty to protect his clan and his family, and so I will teach ye to be a great warrior.”
But Duncan hoped to teach him much more than how to swing a claymore. He wanted to go sailing and hunting with him and to sit by the hearth listening to theseannachietell the old stories of their clan. Perhaps Ragnall would want to learn to play the harp.
Duncan finished covering the grave and put his arm around Moira as she said a brief prayer.
Then he left his father to God.
* * *
After helping Duncan unfurl the sail, Moira settled beside him and lifted Ragnall onto her lap. Duncan put his arm around her, pulling her close, while he held the rudder with his other hand. When Sàr joined them in the stern, he lay across Moira’s feet, keeping them warm. The rain had stopped, and it looked as though it would be smooth sailing all the way home to Dunscaith.
Moira sighed and leaned her head back against Duncan’s arm to watch the clouds passing overhead. They were quiet for a long time, enjoying the peaceful sail and the comfort of being together after the strain of the last days. When Ragnall fell asleep in her arms, it felt so good.
