Page 41 of Luthias

“You’ll get me pregnant,” Emery warned him, and then sighed as he shook his head. “So that’s why none of you have kids. You’re hybrids who can’t have offspring, like mules and ligers. Okay. Then the clan will demand we get married or handfasted or something.” Again he shook his head, which made a pang of sadness shoot through her heart. “I guess being immortal means no mortal wives, either.”

“We cannae grow old, nor sire bairns. ’Twouldnae be fair nor kind to any mortal woman who wished take a MacRoss as husband.” He kissed her brow. “Do you want to be a wife, my Mery?”

”No. Your Mery wants to be rewarded for risking her life to save yours.” She heaved out a breath and curled her arms around his neck. “So love me. Love me right now.”

Callum dragged the last of the deadfall from the hand cart and tossed it in front of the lowlanders sawing the wood into rounds for splitting. He wiped the sweat from his brow before he helped himself to a dipper of water, and then surveyed the work site. They had cleared several roods and would soon move from the area near the castle trail across the river. Half of the lowlanders sat having their mid-day meal in the shade while the rest worked.

Emery had not come today, nor would she, he suspected. He’d misjudged her sharp eyes and clever mind. It still hurt his pride a little that she had resisted him so easily, and had nearly discovered his ruse. Her terror of the water also made him feel a strange pang of guilt; she must have been badly frightened when he’d dragged her near the river. He would go more carefully with her––if he had another chance.

“Come and eat, lad,” the headman called out to him. “You’ve earned a break.”

“My legs want stretching,” he said, glancing up at the sun. Before joining the woodcutters he’d arranged to send messages to Dun Deigh by leaving a pattern of stones on the boundary, and the first appointed meeting time had drawn close. “I’ll take a stroll, I reckon.”

“Mind the patrols,” another woodcutter warned. “They’re searching for a crazed poacher or some such.”

“Aye.” Keeping out of sight of the MacRoss clansmen had proven simple for Callum; he merely ducked his head and touched his brow whenever they came near. No one would suspect the Carack laird to be dressed like a lowlander or cutting wood for the clan. “I’ll be back.”

Once he was out of sight Callum changed direction and climbed up from the forest into the eastern slopes, where he saw the silhouette of a sage waiting on the other side of the MacRoss boundary. He kept out of sight as he made his way to him, stopping only to survey the western ridge for any patrols before he came out into the open.

Struan pulled back the hood of the sage’s robe he wore and regarded him without expression. “Well, my lord? Do you yet tire of playing woodsman?”

“Dinnae you care for playing laird?” he countered. “I’ve found no trace of Athdara anywhere on MacRoss land. One of the maids who brings food to the camp claims she’s no’ at the castle, and she’s no reason to lie.” He considered telling him about the pit trap he’d fallen in, and the dreamstone dust that had nearly knocked out him and Emery, but his brother would only insist he return to the stronghold. To admit he’d almost been brought down by a MacRoss poacher trap didn’t set well with him, either. “What of Dun Deigh and the clan?”

“The court has ordered a number of baubles for the queen, who shall deliver a son for the king any day now, or die trying.” His brother looked past him. “Tavish stole a message from Francia, penned by Luthias’s turncoat brother. The traitor intends to return before the first frost to settle accounts with the clan. Mayhap we should let him do his worst in our stead.”

“I reckoned Kendric dead by now.” Callum thought for a moment. “He’ll need hire a horse to travel from the docks. Purchase the public stables and place watchers in them. I want to ken the moment he steps foot back in Scotland.”

Struan looked amused now. “You mean to kill the MacRoss black sheep?”

“He’s a blade for hire. I mean to buy him. If I cannae, then mayhap I shall kill him. He’s the kind of fighter who turns battles to his favor.” Something looked different about his younger brother, and he had to walk around him before he saw what it was. “You’ve parted with your braid.”

“’Twas the last remnant of my boyhood vanity.” Struan ran a hand over his blunted mane. “Shall I dye my hair black?”

“Then you’d look like...a fool,” he said instead of what he meant. That secret, like a few others his sire had imparted to him, was meant for only the laird. “I must return to work, but you should ken something I’ve seen.” As he told him about the sheltering cave with its gruesome constructs Struan’s smile faded. “’Twould seem the crazed fack didnae die.”

“Aye, but to be found now, and recently done.” His brother’s expression turned bleak. “The bone cobbler, he must be a halfling like us.”

Callum nodded. “’Twould seem he’s a MacRoss.”

“We’d ken if so. Mayhap he belongs to neither clan.” Struan nodded toward the west. “Before they settled here to build the first strongholds the princes roamed the highlands and the north for years. They wouldnae have been monks, either. The crazy fack could be one of their by-blows.”

“’Twould be naught for a half-Fae to hide among mortals. He’d simply have to move along before anyone noticed he doesnae age––or mayhap use an excuse to travel about every few seasons,” Callum said, nodding.

“Aye.” His brother frowned. “Much like your woodcutter friends. Why do you speak as if you’ve considered such a life?”

“Ask me again after I’m done here,” Callum said, and turned to go. He hesitated, and glanced back at Struan. “The dreamstone we’ve mined––’tis kept locked away?”

The war master nodded. “Aye, Reothadh took charge of the whole supply to keep the younger sages from squabbling. Why ask you?”

The only source of dreamstone were the Carack’s mines, or so Callum had assumed. “’Tis naught of importance. Go back safely.”

“My lord.” Struan bowed. “And you.”

Chapter Twelve

Emery couldn’t quite believe she’d just ordered the laird of the MacRoss to make love to her as a reward. Then again she’d waded into the loch and almost drowned herself to save him, so maybe it was just her day to go completely out of her mind. When she looked into his beautiful eyes, however, it felt as if everything she had been through had brought her to this moment.

I didn’t save him. He saved me.