Conall tossed anotherstick into the campfire and stared into the flames. The warmth was slowly drying out his damp hair and clothes and for that he was grateful. It seemed an age since he’d been dry.
He was faintly surprised that he and Molly had made it here in one piece. He considered himself a rudimentary sailor at best and it was more blind luck on his part than skill that had gotten them here. He’d learned the basics of sailing from fishermen who’d plied the waters around his family’s lands but his father had refused to allow him to learn from his own commanders, saying it was beneath a man in his position.
Conall shook his head, an ironic smile curling his lips. A man in his position? That was a poor jest. He had no position at all other than a simple warrior—and that was fine with him. His father would be appalled if he could see him now, sitting alone in a cave that stank of seaweed and drying clothing.
Well, his father could go to hell as far as Conall was concerned.
He glanced out of the cave. The sun was getting lower and he guessed that over an hour had passed since he’d left Molly up on the cliff top. Left her against his better judgment, at that. It was dangerous for a lass to be alone out here, with raiders patrolling the coasts and bandits watching the roads, but he’d sensed she needed to be alone.
She was a strange lass, that was certain. First she’d claimed that his boat was hers, then almost drowned herself trying to follow him, then seemed not to know what year it was.
Aye, a strange one indeed. Strange, but brave and reckless in equal measure.
He blew out his cheeks, his thoughts flitting back to the raiders they’d encountered. They had flown no flags so it was impossible to know whether they were Scots turned bandit or had come across the sea from Norway or Sweden.
Either way, it was difficult to imagine that they weren’t connected in some way to the man he was looking for. After all, wasn’t his enemy known as the scourge of this part of the coast? Wasn’t raiding his speciality? Along with murder, conspiracy, and a whole litany of crimes as long as Conall’s arm.
He clenched his fists as memories flashed. A burning castle. People screaming. A blond-bearded man grinning through it all like it was the most fun in the world.
Grin all you want,he said to the image in his memory.But I will find you. This I swear. I will find you. And I’ll find whoever is sheltering you into the bargain.
That his enemy had allies in Scotland was obvious. That those allies were both rich and powerful was also obvious. What was not obvious was who those allies were or how they were able to hide their activities from both the Order of the Osprey and the king. It was most unsettling. Who knew what plots they were hatching right now?
His eyes slid to the mouth of the cave. Where was Molly?
Perhaps he should go search for her, just to make sure she was safe. It wouldn’t do to have her getting into trouble, and trouble seemed to be a speciality of hers.
He stood up and stretched, wincing as his muscles protested. They were stiff and sore from the long journey and the constant dampness. He needed to move around, to do something, to take his mind off everything that had happened.
He walked outside and looked around. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the rocky landscape. It was beautiful, in a wild and rugged way. The kind of beauty that could kill you if you weren’t careful.
He scanned the beach and started in surprise as he spotted a figure stumbling towards him along the shingle. It was Molly. Her hair was damp and tangled, her odd clothes stained with mud and sweat. She looked exhausted, but determined.
Conall felt a rush of relief flood through him. She was alive and well, thank the Lord.
As she got closer, he could see that her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying recently. He frowned, wondering what could have upset her so much. Had she encountered raiders or bandits? Had she gotten lost in the wilderness and panicked?
As she reached him, he took a step towards her, his hand reaching out to steady her as she stumbled over a rock. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and startled, as if she hadn’t been expecting to see him there.
“Conall,” she gasped, clutching at his arm. “I...I...” She was shivering and her lips were starting to turn blue.
“Come on, lass,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get ye warm before yer chill gets any worse.”
She didn’t protest as he took her arm and guided her into the cave. She all but collapsed by the fire and he draped his one dry blanket over her shoulders. Molly huddled as close to the flames as she could get, holding her hands out towards them gratefully.
Conall seated himself on the other side of the fire and watched her. She seemed oblivious to all else except trying to get warm.
Who was she? Where was she from? And how had she ended up aboard theMermaidwithout him noticing?
Ye must face yer past if ye want to find yer future. And I believe the one who will help ye do that is on their way.
Why had Irene MacAskill’s words just popped into his head? The old woman’s mad ramblings had made about as much sense as everything else he’d encountered today.
“Here, lass,” he said to Molly, holding out some coarse bread and hard cheese. “Eat. Ye look famished.”
Her eyes flicked to his. They were a sparkling hazel color like autumn leaves. After a moment, she reached out and took the food. “Thanks. Iamfamished. Don’t think I’ve eaten since that bit of chocolate one of the tourists gave me.”
Conall looked at her askance. “The what?”
