Hall took the scrolls from the boy, unrolling one to verify it was what they sought.
The power of the markings on the parchment slithered over his skin and up his arm, crawling toward the almost-healed wound on his shoulder like lice on a rat.
There was no doubt that these were the Elven Scrolls of Niflheim.
“You may tell MacAngus that we will plague him no longer.” Hall rolled the parchment back up and tucked it away, nodding toward the boy. “And as for you, Dobbie Caskie, don’t let me catch you bedeviling any of my friends in the future. You’d be best off making your way to those relatives you claim to have on Skye, and keeping your head down. Otherwise, I can promise you, I’ll be back. And I won’t be in such a forgiving mood the next time I pass this way.”
Something told him everyone in the crannog would likely reconsider his thieving ways.
At least for a day or two.
Twenty-seven
IT’S SETTLED,THEN.”Patrick MacDowylt pulled his pack from his horse and tossed it to the ground. “At first light, we head for Castle MacGahan to collect reinforcements before continuing on to Tordenet.”
“It’s not settled at all,” Hall responded, a scowl darkening his face. “Time is an issue. The longer we wait, the stronger Fenrir grows. I say we go directly there. Our success depends upon the items we carry, and how effectively we employ them, not upon the number of men in our force.”
Brie agreed with Hall but didn’t voice her opinion. Knowing this group of men as she did, she was aware that her voice could well be more detriment than help. Besides, bringing attention to herself would only lead to—
“We have to return to the castle first, in any event,” Jamesy said. “To make sure Brie and Mathew are safely behind the walls before we lead the attack on Tordenet.”
Exactly what Brie had expected. But she had no plans to accept her brother’s decree without a fight.
“You’ve no need to go to Castle MacGahan on my behalf. I’m going to Tordenet with you,” she said calmly.
“Like hell you are. Yer no going anyplace close to that castle or the Beast within.” Jamesy shook his head, his frown grown to match the best Hall had ever worn. “I’ve heard the stories of how close I came to losing my sister as well as my father to the Beast that lives there. Yer staying at Castle MacGahan, where I have no need to fash myself over yer safety. I have no appetite for losing the whole of my family to the MacDowylt.”
“Revenge for our father’s death is my right.” Brie kept her voice low. She wouldn’t be prodded into an angry confrontation over this. She might actually be getting the hang of this patience thing. “With you or without you, I intend to see Torquil MacDowylt’s debt to our family paid.”
Torquil’s and the Beast’s that lived inside him. They’d both pay.
Hall, thankfully, kept his peace in this particular battle, turning back to Patrick to press his contention that they would have better luck with a smaller party of men.
“There’s nothing to be gained in wasting time or risking additional lives. Chase told me the MacDowylt castle is rife with hidden passages. Our number could easily slip inside and find Fenrir without involving his entire army. Or risking ours.”
“There are passages aplenty as Chase described, but that’s no the tactic Malcolm has chosen to pursue. He himself was captured sneaking in through the passage leading from the shore into the castle grounds. This time he has decreed we approach with our army and enter through the front gates.” Patrick was adamant.
“Your brother’s choice is wrongheaded,” Hall insisted. “We risk too many lives with a direct confrontation. And the longer we wait—”
“My brother, wrongheaded or no, is our laird, and his word is our law,” Patrick interrupted.
Brie walked away to lead her horse through the trees and down to the water for a drink. There was nothing to be gained by playing audience to their continuing disagreement.
In the end they would do as Patrick insisted, even though Hall was likely right that they’d have more success with fewer men. Patrick followed his older brother’s lead, just as she was expected to follow her older brother’s lead.
Only Bridget MacCulloch was no Patrick MacDowylt.
With the sword whispering encouragement in her ear, there was no way she would allow anyone else to wield it against Torquil. It was her duty. Her right. Fate had given her a second chance at the man who’d murdered her father, and she had no intention of passing up this opportunity to redeem herself.
She had the sword in her possession and that was all she needed to accomplish her goal. Hall’s scrolls were of no importance to her. He intended to capture the Beast and confine it once more to its prison in the scrolls.
She had no interest in taking any prisoners. Whether it had been Torquil MacDowylt on his own who had ordered her father hanged, or the Beast that had driven the action, she intended to kill them both.
Hearing a noise behind her, she glanced back to find Hall leading his mount to the water.
“Will it be Tordenet or Castle MacGahan?” she asked, knowing full well what answer he would give.
“MacGahan,” he answered, irritation thick in his voice. “I’ve been overridden by the lot of them. Shortsighted, small minds.”
