Once again, mask in place, Patrick took his seat. “You dinna share the news that my brother’s horse was missing as well.”
“I tried, Master Patrick, but . . .” The man’s bravado seemed to fail him under the burn of Patrick’s glare.
“Maybe if you hadn’t been yelling at him,” Dani interjected. “Perhaps then he might have gotten the whole story out.”
Patrick’s glower fell on her before turning back to the original target of his displeasure. “You’ve done what you can for now, Rauf. Come to me immediately if you learn anything else. Begone with you now. And close the door behind you. Firmly.”
Dani crossed her arms in front of her, holding her tongue as the groomsman scurried out.
“You realize Dermid has likely gone after Malcolm, do you no?” Patrick tapped one long finger against the tabletop. “You realize as well, that being the case, Malcolm will no be pleased in the least.”
She nodded her agreement. Of all the things Malcolm would be if Dermid caught up with him, pleased was not one of them. Especially considering that an admonishment to see to Dermid’s safety had been part of the instructions he’d had her give to Patrick early this very morning.
Looking at it from that perspective, Patrick’s reaction made a lot more sense.
“I dinna suppose you showed up here solely to rescue poor old Rauf, now did you?”
“Hardly. The man makes my skin crawl.” Elesyria began to pace, much as she had in Dani’s bedchamber before they’d come down here. “I suppose it could be possible that this was what I felt,” she murmured, as if to herself.
“Well then, since it’s no Rauf you came for, do you plan to tell me what brought you here or am I to guess yer purpose, Elf?”
“Elesyria’s worried.” Dani chose to leap into the void, none too comforted by the flash in the Faerie’s glare.
“About?” Patrick prodded.
“About your brother.” Elesyria stopped her pacing to face him. “I awoke early this morning to a nagging disquiet. I can feel something is wrong, something evil on the move, though I cannot tell what or from where it originates. I know only that it stalks your brother.”
“By the gods!” Patrick was on his feet and across the room in three strides, grasping Elesyria by the shoulders. “Tell me all that you see, Elf.”
She jerked her shoulder from his grasp and backed away. “Iseenothing, you foolish Northman. I have no gift of vision. I simply have a feeling. And my feelings are rarely wrong.”
“Forgive me, Elesyria.” Patrick dipped his head in an obvious show of apology. “It’s no you what’s earned my anger. Only myself. Bad enough it is that I failed Malcolm’s instructions. But to have you confirm the truth that my brother is in danger, that’s the rub of it. I should have locked Dermid in the dungeons. That would have kept him safe.”
“Dermid?”
The expression on Elesyria’s face set a knot of panic rising in Dani’s stomach.
“You misunderstand what I’m trying to tell you, Patrick. Dermid is not the brother of whom I speak. The evil I sense stalks Malcolm.”
Twenty-four
THERE WOULD BEno fire to warm them this night.
Malcolm glanced across the clearing to where Dermid huddled into the curve of the great stones, his furs completely obscuring his head and body.
“Rest well, little brother. We move at first light.”
Dermid’s reply drifted back to him, barely intelligible from under the layers of fur covering the lad.
For days now, they’d traveled long and hard to reach the MacDowylt lands as quickly as they had. With a little luck, exhaustion would take its toll and his brother would fall asleep quickly.
Malcolm tightened his furs around him, refusing to think upon the pleasures of a fire even as he shivered with the cold. His new life of comfort was taking its toll, turning a warrior soft. And everyone knew a soft warrior was a dead warrior.
Fire was a luxury he could ill afford this night. Torquil was too close.
Well enough he knew the potential of his half brother’s abilities. His father, who himself had possessed the talent to send his enemies running from the battlefield in abject fear, had often alluded to the wealth of Odin’s power that resided in Torquil’s hands.
No sense going out of their way to draw his eye to their presence.
