Overcast skies smothered the landscape in a desolate wash, casting the winter-scarred land in a pitiful gray. Thick, leafless oaks, ash, and alder lay entwined with gnarled shrubs along theriver’s banks.
The distant rush of watersounded ahead.
As they sailed around the bend, a small stream tumbling down a hillside came into view. Large boulders tipped with icicles framed the gurgling spill as it splashed down the awkward landscape until it poured into the river.
A snow-laden gust swept past. Excitement rushing through her, Lathir tugged her cape tighter as she scanned the familiar banks. Soon they wouldreach her home.
A tangle of long grass and sticks floated by as they rounded the next bend. She drew a deep breath, savored the unique scent of earth and water in Ireland. Regardless of where she’d traveled, the air wasfresher here.
Tenderness filled her as she glanced at Rónán at her side. That he loved her still seemed as if a dream. Throughout the night, they’d made plans for theirlife together.
Bran shouted orders to his men.
A smile touched her mouth. She’d offered the stubborn leader and his men shelter within the castle this night, or for the next several days if they chose. He’d declined, but a sense of victory had filled her as in addition to the agreed upon payment, he’d acceded to allowing her to replenishtheir supplies.
’Twould take but a few hours to restock their goods. Once the cog sailed away, she and Rónán would meet with her trusted advisers and begin plans for raising an army to free her father.
Please God, let him be alive, not sprawled deep within a pit on a cold, dank earthen floor, tortured and fightingto survive, or…
Nay, she wouldna think of him gone. He was alive, she knew it with every beat of her heart.
A dove landed on a branch along the shore, and she took the peaceful bird’s appearance as a sign she was right. She facedRónán, and the turmoil twisting in her gut eased. Equally important, regardless of the challenges ahead, she was no longer alone.
A hawk soared overhead as they made their way aroundthe next bend.
Anticipation speared Lathir as she scoured the shore. Gray stones flickered within the break of leafless trees tangled with fir and brush. The sail snapped as a gust filled the stretched canvas, and the craftsurged forward.
The clouds parted. Golden rays severed the bleak skies, and the tips of the waves shimmered as if coated with fairy dust tossed. The river widened, the flow spilling into a large loch embraced by thecurve of land.
Memories of playing along the shore filled her. Of the soft press of grass beneath her feet as her father had walked beside her at sunset, told her stories of the fey, and helped her look for the wee folk rumored to be seen as the last flicker of sunlight slipped through the evening sky.
“Wynshire Castle lays ahead,” a rangy sailor atthe bow called.
Throat tight with pride, she took in the fortress boasting four towers, one at each corner, built by her ancestors hundreds of years before. A legacy she would one day inherit. Movement on the wall walk caughtLathir’s gaze.
Abell rang out.
Weapons drawn, armed guards took their stations onthe wall walk.
“Bloody hell,” Bran grumbled as he strode up beside her, “they are preparingfor an attack.”
“They are.” The bow easily cut through the water as Rónán stepped to Lathir’s other side. She met the captain’s gaze. “Once they recognize me, they will secure their arms. Until then, I would expect nay less than fierce defense of the stronghold.” She chuckled. “Nor does it help that you are flyinga pirate flag.”
With a muttered curse, Bran ordered a man to lower the banner. He shook his head. “I should have bloody—” He cleared his throat. “A task I should have seen to earlier.”
After having sailed too many times with her father and overhearing his crew, she was far from slighted by his salty tongue. “When an unfamiliar vessel enters our waters, my guards prepare in case of attack.”
The clank of iron sounded.
Stunned, Lathir stared in disbelief at the gatehouse. “Why are they raising the portcullis?”
Face taut, Rónán glanced over. “’Tis possible that it has something to do with your father’s capture.”
“How? It has been less than a fortnight since his abduction, far from time for any of his friends to havebeen alerted.”
“Mayhap, they arena his friends?”
Horror filled her. “You believe Sir Feradach O’Dowd has seized Wynshire Castle?”
