Page 48 of The Best of Brenna Grant

He nodded and said, “Aye. I miss him already.”

Ketill, sticking to the important facts of life as he knew them, said, “He was nearly ninety winters old. Do you not think that is old? He’s the only one that old, is he not?”

“Aye. Uncle Robbie and Aunt Caralyn, Uncle Alex and Aunt Maddie have all passed on. Aunt Brenna is a few years younger. Aunt Jennie is much younger. She’s still in her seventh decade. And then there’s Uncle Logan.” He had to think about that one for a bit. How old was the old warrior? He had to be close to ninety.

“How old is he?”

“I don’t think anyone truly knows.”

Ketill looked over his shoulder and whispered, “I dinnae think Uncle Logan will ever die. Do you?”

Loki chuckled and said, “Someday he will.” He reached for the lad and settled him on his lap, hoping to warm him, but these days, the young ones warmed him.

Ketill scowled and stared at him. “So why do you cry so?”

“Lad, my memories are haunting me. The mind does odd things sometimes.”

Ketill stared up at his beloved grandsire. “Good memories or bad ones?”

Loki chuckled, the child wiser than he ever was. “Both.”

The lad scrunched his face up the way he did when he had to think hard. “From the time you lived in the crate? How did you live in a crate? I would not know how to do that. It would be cold, would it not?”

“Cold and hard and hungry. That’s what it’s like living in a crate. Do you have time for a wee tale or two, lad?”

Ketill nodded, grabbing the fur across Loki’s lap and moving it over his legs, snuggling underneath. “I love your tales, Grandda. Especially the ones about the battles.”

“This is not quite about a battle. This is about an evil man. Shall I?”

“Aye, do tell.”

“When I was your age and I lived in the crate, every day I did the same things. I would run to the taverns to try to beg for scraps, then to a bakery to ask for a stale loaf of bread, then I would go to the center of town to see what was transpiring near the king’s castle. After that, I would go check on a lass I called Missy Angel.”

“Great-Grandmama?”

“Aye. She was the loveliest in all the land, but she had the saddest eyes I’d ever seen.”

“How could you see her that close?”

“I would look every morning to see her pull the fur back on her window and stick her head out to take deep breaths. Sometimes I saw her cry. Once I saw someone grab her arm and yank her back inside the tower.”

“Who?”

“A man known as the Baron.”

“He was evil? He must have been if he treated a lass like that.”

“Aye. Let me tell you about this one particular day. It had rained that night, and I’d gone to the market, hoping to steal a tarp.”

“But stealing is wrong.”

Loki chuckled, pleased to hear that Lucas had taught him well. “I know, but I didn’t know so back then, nor had I any coin to buy what I needed. Now, listen to the tale.”

“I’m listening.” The lad’s eyes locked on his, waiting for the tale to continue.

“So that day at the market, I’d seen a group of warriors go by, and I learned they were Grant warriors. How I wished to be one of them! When the warriors had ridden off, the mean boys of the burgh ambushed me, wrapped me up in a tarp, and tossed me about before throwing me against a tree.”

Ketill leaped off Loki’s lap and began to swing his fists. “I’d punch them for you, Grandda. Like this.” Then he swung his fists and kicked a leg up.