Page 72 of Marin’s Promise

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The following sennight flew by in a whirl of busy activity and steamy nights.

True to her word, Marin had begun to include Bran in her meetings with the pertinent members of the household to ensure they cooperated with him in helping her run the keep. Not only was he eager to be part of the castle’s daily life, she found he excelled at the duties.

Each day they worked more closely together, and each day, Marin found herself all the more endeared to the man she’d been forced to wed.

Outside, the Grahams still hovered on the grounds. Their presence was disconcerting when the food stores had not been sufficiently restocked since Bran’s arrival. His forces had depleted their supply when he first assumed control of the castle. Though the number of men had been greatly reduced due to abandonment and death, the perpetual presence of the aggressive Grahams had kept anyone from going out of, or into, the castle.

Leila had not developed another fever and had followed all the strict rules given to her by Isla as her wounds healed. After many, many requests to do so, Leila was finally allowed out on the battlements.

Marin hovered over her youngest sister and tried not to let her worry and fear show.

“I’ll be fine.” Leila caught Marin’s hand the way she had done when she was a small child.

In truth, Marin had hoped Leila might be able to offer some insight on the great sadness she’d spoken of, the one on the horizon. The one that had not yet come to pass. But seeing Leila looking out over the Graham forces, Marin didn’t want the information, not when the cost was so high. Leila was too young, too delicate.

She never should have allowed Leila out there.

Bran curled an arm around Marin, protective and loving. “I promise nothing will happen to her.”

Marin leaned into Bran’s strength, grateful for his confident assurance. She needed it to put her mind at ease.

“If it gets dangerous, Leila, you will have to return to the keep.” Marin’s concern put an edge to her tone she had not intended.

Leila did not reply but stared out in the distance and tilted her face to the wind, as though doing so might enable her to read something unseen to all others.

Marin cast an anxious glance at Bran. While she trusted her husband, she did not like Leila displaying her abilities so blatantly.

She knelt beside her sister. “Leila, I—”

A tear slid down Leila’s face while her eyes watched something in the distance.

Fear dragged an icy chill down Marin’s spine. “What is it?”

“Do you not see it?”

Marin looked to the horizon, empty save for a few Graham soldiers. “What do you see?”

“It is coming.” Leila blinked but still the tears fell down her cheeks.

Marin pulled her small sister into her arms. “We must get you inside.”

“Rider,” Bran said above them.

Marin jerked her attention to the distance once more and spied a man on horseback, his body slumped over his horse. Graham reivers rode on either side of him, whooping and shouting. Something was amiss.

“Summon Cat immediately.” Marin stood and nudged her youngest sister toward the castle. “Leila, get inside. Now. Send for Isla in case we have need of her.”

Whoever the man on the horse was, he did not appear well.

Leila ran, filling the battlements with the slap, slap, slap of her leather shoes over the stonework.

“Archers,” Marin bellowed. “Ready your bows.”

The creak of over a dozen bowstrings being pulled back answered her call.

“Something isna right,” Bran said. “I’ll be at the gate in case we need to open the portcullis. If those bastards get through, my reivers will be waiting for them.”