“I will be.” As soon as she stopped shaking. She was a princess, was she not? A Caledonian. The woman Deathan loved.
Out of the fear and dread, another emotion came stealing.
MacNabh might be her husband. But he would never do that to her again.
Chapter Forty-Five
Deathan rode throughthe gates of MacNabh’s fortified dwelling at an easy pace, doing his best to appear nothing more than a humble supplicant. Not too difficult a role to play. After days of rain, he was damp and filthy, and no doubt appeared as desperate as he felt.
But nay,desperatedid not fully describe the emotions that filled him. He was indignant, apprehensive, and fearful on Darlei’s behalf. So angry he could barely see straight.
Her father, who claimed to value her, had ridden off and left her at this grim place.
Deathan, who loved her, would not do the same.
He had been watching for two days and had caught not so much as a glimpse of her. Now the sun had come out, and the place had awakened, armed men hanging about and women emerging to do laundry.
The gates stood open when he rode in beneath the morning sun, but guards stepped forward immediately to bar his way.
“Who are ye and wha’ d’ye want here?”
“A traveler looking for work,” he stated with a casualness he did not feel.
They eyed him, the one man older and the other still green.
“We ha’ all the help we need,” said the elder. “On yer way.”
“I am good wi’ horses and no’ bad at all wi’ a sword,” Deathan said as if he had not heard. “I was wi’ MacLeod of Lewis beforehe disbanded us. I will work for my keep, just need a dry place to sleep if I might.”
The two men exchanged a look.
“Our chief is Dunstoch MacNabh. He does no’ hire swords. I am called Ardroch, head o’ the guard and overseer o’ pretty much all else.” He eyed Deathan once more, thoughtfully. “That is a fine pony.”
“Aye. Trained him up mysel’. But he could use a good feed.”
“I suppose I could use help in the stables. If ye will work for yer food and yer pony’s feed, I can tak’ ye on for a few days.”
“Master Ardroch—” the youth began to object.
“Whisht, Seumas. The chief does no’ have to know.”
“I’m grateful.” Deathan swung down from his pony to find Ardroch continuing to eye him.
“That is a good sword, as well.”
“I earned it. And then I hired it out.”
“Ye will no’ get the pay ye likely deserve here.” Ardroch’s expression turned sour. “Nobody does. But if ye work well, I can offer ye room in the stable.”
“I ask nay more.”
He was in. Ardroch gestured the lad back to guard the gate and led Deathan off toward a group of tumbled outbuildings.
Not a very prepossessing place, this, and Deathan wondered how MacNabh had found favor enough with the king to win a Caledonian princess.
“Wha’ sort o’ family is it here?” he asked as they went, the folk in the yard slanting him curious glances.
“Och, MacNabh is a careful sort o’ man.”
