Aiden shook his head. “The clan will go on as long as a single MacCurran breathes. Our lads are under MacPherson’s knife because I failed them. I’ll not sit back while you attempt to free them.”
His brother shrugged. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“When shall we leave?”
“Gather the men. I’ll join you in a moment. Isabail has asked to see the hound.”
One of Niall’s brows raised. “Does it yet live?”
“Aye.” Aiden hesitated, then added, “Ana did a fine job with the beast.”
One side of Niall’s mouth lifted. “Do you trust her now to treat the rest of the clan without Master Tam hovering nearby?”
“Give it time,” Aiden said. “If all is well in a day or two, I’ll give her free rein.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Snatching his brother’s round of bread from his hands, Aiden strode across the close to Ana’s quarters. Nodding to the healer, he crossed the room and gently gathered up the dog. “I’ve found someone to care for the hound tonight. I trust you’ve no objection?”
“Nay.” She rolled up the dog’s bedding and tucked it under Aiden’s arm. Then she gave the dog a kiss on the head. “Sleep well, Gorm.”
Aiden crossed the camp, ignoring the broad grins he received from some of the men. Udard opened the door to his hut for him, and he stepped inside.
Isabail was seated on her pallet while Muirne braided her white-blond hair. She turned as the door clicked closed behind him. “Gorm!”
She scrambled to her feet and raced across the room. The dog opened its eyes to her crooning but did not stir. Aiden handed her the bedding. “Lay it beside the fire,” he instructed. When the bedding was unrolled, he lowered the dog to the blankets.
“You told me I could not see him until morning,” Isabail said, crouching beside the dog to pet it.
Aiden shrugged. “He’s doing much better. He has eaten and gotten to his feet, though he is still too weak to walk. And I will not be able to look in on him during the night.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve something important that needs my attention.” Digging through the leather bag leaning against the wall, he found a dark gray lèine and a black brat. Sneaking into Dunstoras would require extra diligence on such a bright night. He strode to the door and then paused. “If for any reason Beathag comes to you and tells you to flee into the tunnels, do not hesitate. Gather everything you see, save for the brazier, and run.”
“Do you anticipate an attack?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“If someone attacks your encampment, would that not suggest my rescue is imminent?”
Aiden favored Isabail with a flat stare. The thought of returning to a camp that did not include Isabail was disagreeable. “Do you not recall what I told you of MacPherson’s army? Mercenaries are hard men capable of heinous acts. Stay with the other women and children; you will be safer.”
“Oh.”
“Take care.” He tugged open the door.
“Wait! Where do you go?”
He turned back to her. “It matters not. I’ll be back by morning. If you wish, Muirne can pass the night here as well.”
Isabail rose to her feet. “Is it dangerous, this important task you must see to?”
He met her gaze. “Not overly,” he lied.
“So a prayer to Saint Andrew would go amiss?”
