“There were harsh words exchanged, Brendan,” she said bluntly. “But we’d like to make amends. I-I never thought she’d really leave. We argue every now and then, but we always make up.”
He shook his head, panic bubbling up inside him. What wasn’t being said? What hadn’t the Abbess told him? There was something else, he knew it.
“Freya isn’t used to being forgiven,” he muttered. “Which way did she go? I’ll go after her, and try to bring her back.”
The Abbess pushed the ashen-faced Senga away. The woman was grim now, a look of warning flashing in her eyes. Any hope Brendan might have been nursing was now gone, entirely gone.
“Sister Bertha was in the garden when it happened,” the Abbess said, speaking slowly. “Freya was taken as soon as she stepped off the convent grounds. Taken by Grahame men.”
Brendan felt as though his heart was slipping downwards, into the tangle of his gut, where the life would be squeezed out of it.
“Laird Grahame has her?” he whispered.
The Abbess tightened her lips. “We must assume so. I’m sorry, Brendan. I don’t know if anything can be done. Senga wanted to go after her, but I forbade it. I won’t risk the lives of my girls.”
Brendan nodded slowly, fists clenching at his sides.
“I’ll go after her,” he heard himself say.
The Abbess blinked. “Lad, she’ll be at Keep Grahame by now.”
He smiled faintly. “Then at least I’ll know where to find her.”
“Brendan, please, reconsider.”
“I won’t, so don’t bother trying to convince me.” He half turned away, paused, then turned back. “If I don’t see ye again, Abbess, thank ye. Thank ye for everything.”
The woman stood still like a statue, then carefully inclined her head.
“Ye are a brave man, Brendan. Don’t let anyone tell ye otherwise.”
He allowed himself a tight, mirthless smile. “Och, I won’t.”
Keep Grahame was an ugly building.The forest hemmed in closely around it, cutting off much of the light. The building itself was sprawling and sharp, built of an unnatural-looking gray stone.
Perhaps it’s not so ugly,Brendan thought vaguely.Perhaps it’s only the man who rules it that makes it ugly.
There was no sign of life in the Keep, besides the soldiers standing in front of the arched front gate, and the soldiers patrolling the battlements. Brendan crouched out of sight in the forest, choosing a position that would shelter him but allow him to keep an eye on the place.
He’d been waiting for close to half an hour, and it was getting unbearable. There was nothing to indicate that Freya was inside, but he knew, in his heart, that she was. Laird Grahame would be furious at her betrayal, and simply killing her or returning her to her father would never be an option. She would have to upholdherend of the bargain. She would behis, one way or another.
He shivered.
Brendan wasn’t enough of a fool to go stalking into the Keep himself, so he’d collared a boy and sent him in with a message for Noah. Had his message gone astray? If so, he would probably only find out when a parcel of soldiers jumped on him.
On cue, a familiar figure strode out through the gates, head up and gaze snapping around. The soldiers on guard jumped to attention as he walked past, but he barely seemed to notice.
Brendan put his hand to his mouth, making a muffled bird cry. Noah glanced his way and hurried over, diving into the undergrowth beside him.
“Were ye followed?” Brendan whispered.
“Not that I know of, but ye can never tell in this place. Ye are back, Brendan! I’m glad to see ye, lad. When ye said ye would come back, I…” he paused, shaking his head. “Some of my men thought ye were lying, saying whatever I wanted to hear to get me away, but I believed in ye.”
Brendan glanced away, ashamed. “Ye give me too much credit, Noah. Look, is the lassie here or not?”
“Lass?”
“Freya McInnes,” Brendan added, impatiently. “She was taken from a convent not too far from here by Grahame soldiers.”
