Page 37 of The Best of Brenna Grant

“She’s eight summers.”

“How did you get here?”

“Two of these men came and killed our mother, then stole us from my aunt. We were living with her.” She wiped the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. “Do you know where they’re taking us?”

“Nay, but do not worry,” Kenzie said. “My sire will save us. Watch for the falcons and slingers.”

“Slingers?” she whispered.

“Aye. My sire is the best. He slings small rocks at bad men.”

A bold voice shouted back at them from the front. “I said keep quiet. All of you.”

Kenzie held his finger up to his lips. Steenie scowled, but there was naught they could do but listen. Both lads tipped their heads back, and Steenie hoped he’d see a bunch of wild falcons.

He wished to meet the Wild Falconer. Maybe someday he could be a Wild Falconer.

There weren’t any falcons in eyesight, so Steenie shifted his gaze to the path ahead of them, just then realizing he could see the loch. He pointed his finger toward the water, and Kenzie glanced over his shoulder to follow. When they came down the hill, there was a large clearing on one side of the loch with a couple of small huts near one end. He could see clear across to the other side because it was so big.

He didn’t like the boat at the edge. Two men were stacking crates around the lip of the loch while three men worked on the boat, getting water, sweeping the boat out, spitting over the edge.

He watched the man spit over and over again. Someday he’d be able to spit that far. He decided to practice a bit, so he spat over the side of the cart to see how far it would go. He did this for a while until Kenzie poked him in his back.

He peered over his shoulder at Kenzie, who pointed up to the sky. He was careful to make sure no one else saw what he was doing, so Steenie guessed it was important. He tipped his head up toward the gray sky, but he didn’t see anything at first. A moment later, two big birds soared above them, sweeping lower and lower.

He couldn’t help but clap his hands.

“What the hell is with the birds? They’ve been following us for the last quarter hour,” Stubby yelled.

Scruffy shouted back at him. “Who cares? They’re just birds, you daft arse.” Then he spat to the side of his horse.

Steenie giggled and whispered, “Daft arse.” Then he spat over the side, pleased that it was farther than his previous marks.

Blackteeth pulled the first cart full of girls, also carrying Hilda, into the clearing, waving to the men aboard the boat. Then he cursed and slapped the back of his head. Spinning around on his horse, he stared at Scruffy who was mounted behind him.

“What the hell? Why are you throwing stones at me?”

Kenzie pulled on Steenie’s tunic, wide-eyed. He whispered, “My sire. He’s here!”

Scruffy said, “I didn’t throw naught at you, but I will if you don’t keep moving.”

The two men who’d ridden by themselves climbed down and moved over to the cart in front, lifting the lassies out one by one and pushing them toward the boat. One of the men roared as his head was jerked backward. “Who did that?” he shouted, his hand flying up to his forehead.

Steenie watched as Kenzie pulled out his own slinger, stuck a rock in it and sent it flying at the man who’d been in the first cart, hitting him in the back of the head. “I grabbed the stones when we got into the cart when the men weren’t looking,” he explained with a whisper.

Blackteeth turned on Scruffy and shouted, “You bastard. ‘Tis the second time you’ve hit me. Come over here and try it. I’ll kick your arse.”

Scruffy got hit in the back of his head next. “I didn’t do naught,” he said, “but somebody just hit me.”

The other cart had emptied, but Kenzie, Steenie, Edith, and Eva were still in their cart when the falcons dipped down from the sky again, soaring over the entire group of them.

“Kenzie, look. ‘Tis the falcons again just like you said,” Steenie whispered.

Their captors, nine in all—the four who’d brought them here and the five near the boat—started jabbering and shouting. Hilda must have sensed an opportunity, for she sent the girls running toward the huts at the end, but they were so confused, they ran in different directions.

All of a sudden, three horses carrying men with red plaids charged out of the woods. Kenzie grabbed Eva out of Edith’s arms and said, “Run!”

Steenie hopped out of the cart and ran for the trees as fast as his wee legs could carry him. He knew those plaids.