“If we escaped now, if we left without searching for the necklace,” Isabail said, “we might yet reach the king before he awards the land.”
Daniel met her gaze. “Possession would certainly allow you to rout the MacCurrans and search for the necklace at your leisure.”
“Aye,” responded Isabail eagerly.
“But there’s no guarantee the king will give the land to you, and justice for John is dependent upon gaining the necklace. Nay. This is our best hope.” His face grew ruddy with anger. “Any other plan runs the risk that MacCurran goes free. We must stay the course. We must find the necklace.”
Isabail sighed. She understood his desperate need for justice. Daniel was the only person who had loved John more than she. He had sobbed into her arms, quite unlike himself, for hours when John gave up his last breath.
Isabail’s father had beaten John black-and-blue over the years, threatened him with castration, and sent him off to be toughened in regions beset by war, all in hopes of ridding John of his “unnatural interest” in other men. There were laws against such behavior, after all. But Isabail had accepted her brother’s sexual preference, seen it as just one of the many facets that composed the fine man that her brother had been.
His love for Daniel had not made him a poor earl, as their father had feared. John had been strong, decisive, and politically astute. He had strengthened the earldom by becoming justiciar of Glen Avon and enriched it by hiring and training skilled weavers to craft their wool into fine, sought-after cloth. Daniel, too, was a learned man, fluent in Latin, French, English, and Gaelic. They had spent many an hour in heated debate over the political affairs of Scotland, England, and Europe.
If Daniel was convinced that gaining the necklace was necessary to see justice done by John, then so be it.
“If the necklace is here, I will find it,” Isabail vowed. “I swear it.”
* * *
Darkness settled over the glen, and a low mist rose off the snow. The moon was bright enough to see by, so Aiden gave the order to douse most of the torches. Firelight was visible for long distances, even between the trees. MacPherson rarely sent out evening patrols, but why take the risk?
“Did you succeed in getting the names from Lady Macintosh?” Niall asked as he returned to the ruin after standing the evening watch.
Aiden tossed his brother a cool stare. “After she discovered your healer in the camp? I think not.”
“But you returned to your quarters at midday,” Niall reminded him. “The men were taking bets on how long it would take for you to coax the information from her lips.”
“The men have more important concerns.”
“Aye, that they do,” said Niall. “And they’re ready.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Niall glanced at him. “It will be easier to break into Dunstoras than it was to enter Lochurkie.”
“Don’t underestimate MacPherson.”
The two men left the perimeter wall and made their way into the inner close, where a boar was roasting on a spit and the cook was handing out bread rounds. “He’s a sorry excuse for a garrison commander. Only a laggard fails to attend the lists.”
“He may be lazy, but he’s also smart,” Aiden said. “I’ve met him several times, and I assure you his wits are as sharp as fine Spanish steel.”
Niall used his dirk to slice off a piece of boar. “You’re not suggesting we leave our lads to hang for poaching, are you?”
“Nay.” It was galling enough that his people were imprisoned inside the very keep that once protected them. Standing by and watching them swing would be impossible. “I am merely warning you not to be cocksure. The guards at Lochurkie were not expecting you to break in. MacPherson will be prepared.”
“No one knows Dunstoras better than we do.”
“Agreed.” Aiden didn’t bother to repeat his warning; he simply stared at his brother as he ate his meat.
Niall acknowledged the message. “We’ll take proper care.”
“I’ll be taking the lead.”
Niall frowned. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Are you doubting the value of my sword arm?”
“Nay,” Niall said. “Fearing the loss of it. If I am captured, you can continue the fight. If you are captured, the fight is over.”
