Page 52 of Luthias

“No.” Taveon caught his fist before he could punch him in the face. “Beat me to death if you wish, Brother, but you ken I speak truth. Dinnae walk into his trap blind. ’Twas set for a reason––and ’tisnae about Emery.”

Luthias dismounted and went to the nearest tree, driving his fist into the trunk over and over. Bark exploded from every impact, and leaves rained down on him. Finally he threw back his head and shouted, “Gods facking damn him.”

Wood cracked, and the tree slowly toppled over, landing with a crash. Bird took to wing, and hares and voles scattered in every direction. The war master came to stand beside him.

“She’s no helpless, our lass,” Taveon said softly. “She’ll bide her time, and watch for her chance. She’s clever and quick. I vow she’ll find her way back to us.”

“If he touches her, I’ll geld him. If he ends her...” He couldn’t complete that thought. “I gave Darach the succession scroll when our sire died. You’ll become the next laird.”

“You hate me that much. Mayhap I should go to Éire and join the gallóglach. Camdyn can become laird.” The war master kicked some earth at the uprooted tree. “Why do we hire woodcutters? We but need send you out in a murderous temper.”

“I love her, Tav.” Saying it freed him, for he had battled against his feelings long enough. “I cannae do without her.” He thought of the towering Carack laird, who could easily brutalize Emery, and likely would. “She’s so small. Like a wee bird.”

“Aye, and yet she escaped two armed guards, tamed Camdyn, pulled you from a loch and wrapped the rest of the clan around her smallest finger.” Taveon put a hand on his shoulder. “And the lass loves you.”

“You ken the place where that bastart took her?” When he nodded Luthias strode back to his mount. “Show me.”

Although it was taller than Dun Lasair, Emery didn’t much care for the look of the Carack stronghold. Callum’s clan had built the curtain walls and castle out of stone so dark it almost looked black, and yet the upper levels had been painted pure white. She guessed the effect was supposed to be scary, like a forbidding mountain of doom. To her it just looked sad and depressing.

“Why is your castle two colors?” she asked her abductor. “Did you run out of paint or something?”

The Carack laird didn’t reply to her rather lame attempt to get him to talk. Since finding Athdara Martin’s body and making the threat against Luthias, Callum hadn’t said a word. No doubt he was grieving for the woman he’d loved, but somehow she had to get through to him.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Lord Carack,” Emery said carefully. “Luthias and Athdara weren’t lovers, though. I haven’t seen her once at Dun Lasair since I arrived, and I’ve been everywhere inside the castle.”

He walked faster, and his long strides made her trot to keep up with him.

“I know she wasn’t his lover because, well, I am.” Although that was only a recent development, she didn’t have to give him dates. “I didn’t want to fall in love with him, because I have to leave soon, but it happened and we’re really happy and I don’t want you to kill him. Or anyone. No one has to die.”

Emery doubted her confession was going to make any difference to him, so she tackled the problem from another angle.

“I know that the truce between your clans is really important,” she added. “It would be better to get all the facts about exactly what happened to Athdara before you do something you’ll regret. I can help with that, if you’ll allow me to examine her body. I’m a forensic anthropologist, you see, and this is...what I do.”

This is why the sword brought me back. Why it told me it begins now.

With new urgency Emery took hold of the rope and jerked on it to get his attention. “Please, Lord Carack, listen to me. I know why I came here now. I’m the only person who can tell you how that woman actually died.”

Callum stopped, stared up at the sky, and then met her gaze.

“I ken what happened to her, you stupit wench,” he told her. “Athdara loved your laird so much she stole from me and ran away to be with him. When he took my gold and cast her aside she had no coin, and nowhere to flee. Her people in the lowlands shunned her. She had no friends. She couldnae return to Dun Deigh.”

“That doesn’t mean she committed suicide,” Emery insisted.

He pointed back in the direction of the river. “You saw her body. From the look of her she starved while in hiding. With no coin, no protection and no sanctuary, what more could she do but end herself?”

None of this sounded right to Emery. “I’m sure there’s another explanation.”

“I’ve proof.” He held up the metal tube he’d found. “She wrote of Luthias’s cruelty to her and her wish to die. Why think you she sealed it in a tube she tied to her body with the stones before she cast herself in the river? She wished me to ken the truth. Now say no more, or I’ll gag you.” He let go of the rope and pushed her ahead of him.

When they reached the Carack stronghold Emery realized the rival clan were pretty serious about their security. She saw twice as many men guarding the castle as there were at Dun Lasair. As soon as the archers on the walls and the men on the gate saw them approaching everyone drew their weapons, but then lowered them as Callum pulled back his hood. Two men trotted up to them, bowed, and then reached for Emery.

“Leave her with me,” Callum said. “Athdara Martin’s body, ’tis in the boat down at the river landing. Bring her to the infirmary.”

The Carack laird marched her through the gates and into the stronghold. The sheer number of braziers, candles and lanterns in the great hall made her blink, and then she saw someone who at first glance appeared to be an older man.

“Welcome back, my lord. Fair day, Mistress Parker.” The silver-blond man, who actually looked younger than Callum, inclined his head to her before he regarded his laird. “I hope you encountered no trouble on the way?”

“I found Athdara. She drowned herself after Luthias jilted her. He dies last.” Callum shoved Emery toward the man. “Toss this wench in the dungeons.”