When he finished searching the closest ridges and caves without finding her, he headed directly for the stream and rode along the shoreline, searching the water for her. Could she swim? He imagined every unimaginable scenario while his heart beat like a drum in his ears.
By the time he returned home, he was convinced she had not gone on her own. Someone had taken her. Could it be the man who had traveled with Helen? Hadn’t Elspeth told him he was Helen’s master, whom Helen feared she had killed? What if he was not dead?
“When the lads get here,” he told his mother while he strapped his sword to his belt and tucked dirks and other various weapons into his belt, his boots, and his bracers. He intended to fight to the death for her. Nothing less. And he didn’t intend on dying, “tell them I must find Elspeth.”
He opened the front door to leave and heard his brother’s footsteps hurrying after him. “Wait fer me, Logan. I’ll ride with ye.”
“Stay here,” Logan called without turning to look over his shoulder.
“How can I do nothin’ when yer wee sparrow is missin’? I can help.”
He sounded sincere enough, Logan reasoned. “What can ye do, brother?”
Ealar bent his arms along his sides and turned up his shoulders. “Fight by yer side or break off into another direction if that is what ye wish.”
Logan gave him a hard look, to which his youngest sibling waved away.
“Ye willna even know I’m with ye,” Ealar promised.
Logan doubted it but motioned with his hand for his brother to follow him. Mayhap a trip together was long overdue. Still, Logan did not want to have it now.
Logan waited in silence while Ealar saddled his horse. Watching him, he was grateful that his younger brother wanted to be by his side. Everyone in Lochaber had heard the stories about Ealar Cameron’s stealth and skill. He was making their father proud where Logan could no longer go. Logan held no animosity toward his brother. He was happy one of the legendary Lochiel’s sons was filling his father’s footsteps.
“If there is fightin, Ealar, stay away from it. I willna have our mother hatin’ me for lettin’ ye fight.”
“Brother, I can—”
“Aye, I know,” Logan told him, “still, I canna bear the thought of losing ye, little brother.”
“Ye willna lose me, Logan. I promise.”
Logan gave him an admonishing glance. “Since when have ye become so sure of yer skill?”
“Since I fought all of father’s enemies while ye convalesced. I learned as I went.”
Logan would not have laughed if Ealar hadn’t grinned at him. Wee, cocky lad. But he was smiling. For that, Logan was grateful.
They rode away from the house and headed west toward Tor. They searched the area until they came to a small town and threatened to kill anyone harboring a man and a woman with short yellow hair. No one had seen such a lass.
Several hours later, a band of about seven thieves ambushed them as they set down their heads for a few hours of sleep.
Logan wasn’t sure if it was him or his brother who opened his eyes first. They moved in unison, blades flashing in the moonlight, slashing and splattering blood across Ealar’s face, then on to Logan’s when he twisted his wrist and sliced his blade across another man’s throat.
Another four went down in much the same way, with much blood. The last man alive was allowed to live if he promised to tell others that the Camerons would not tolerate thievery in any way. Steal a man’s purse or his wife or daughters and there would be no mercy. He would have been allowed to live even if he refused to promise. What he told Logan was too valuable to kill him.
He had seen her! A pixie-like lass with short choppy hair beneath a blue woolen hood. She traveled with a man, though she kept looking over her shoulder, as if searching for another.
When Logan heard this, his resolve to find her grew stronger. Who was the bastard who took her? Logan was going to kill him.
“What did this man look like? Describe him to me.”
“He looked like her,” the thief told him. “Same blue eyes, same complexion. His hair was long, but verra light, like hers.”
“Are ye sayin’ he could be her brother?”
“Her twin brother mayhap.”
Logan turned to Ealar, who knew every written account in the Lochaber annals, including his and his family’s.
