“Me Laird,” he said, his voice small under the music. “I have a message. For ye alone.”
Aaron frowned. He looked toward the guards under the shade, wondering how the lad had managed to slip past them, before returning his attention to him.
“Who are ye?”
The lad’s eyes darted nervously past his shoulder, and he followed his gaze, catching only the briefest glimpse of a man in black disappearing westward beyond the courtyard’s edge.
Unease coiled in Aaron’s gut.
Edith.
He signaled to Caelan, and his man-at-arms understood at once, slipping from beside Robert but keeping it subtle enough that no onlooker would notice.
Aaron gripped the lad’s shoulder hard enough to be firm without inflicting pain, guiding him into the castle away from the noise and the crowd.
Once they were inside, Aaron half-dragged him through the Great Hall. Caelan fell into step behind them, his hand resting on the dirk at his belt.
The door closed behind them with a heavy thud, and Aaron’s gaze hardened at once, his voice dropping to a low growl.
“Speak,” he ordered, releasing the lad but positioning himself directly in front of him. “Now.”
The lad cowered, fear flashing across his face as his wide eyes darted wildly between Aaron and Caelan.
“Laird M-MacFaris,” he stammered. “He has… he has Lady Hallow.”
Aaron’s blood ran cold, the words ringing in his ears. He grabbed the lad’s shoulders, his fingers digging hard enough to draw blood.
“Where?”
“I daenae ken,” the lad said, wincing as he forced out the words. “He says ye must sign over yer lands or he will harm her.” He swallowed hard. “If ye refuse…” His voice cracked. “She dies. And he threatens war.”
The room seemed to tilt slightly beneath Aaron’s feet.
He released his grip on the lad’s shoulder, and the lad immediately scrabbled backward, his steps faltering until his back hit the table.
“Please, me Laird.” A tear slid down his cheek. “Let me go.”
A muscle ticked in Aaron’s jaw. “Where?” he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet.
The lad swallowed, his lips trembling as Aaron took a closer look at him. “I swear it, me Laird.” His words came out in a rush as he looked frantically around the small chamber. “I daenae ken where they took her. I was only told to deliver the message.”
Aaron took another step closer, his blood boiling with barely controlled fury. “Ye expect me to believe?—”
“Please.” The lad’s voice broke, his hands shaking visibly. “He has me maither. He said if I didnae deliver the message, he would?—”
“Who gave ye this message?” Caelan cut in, his voice steady, though no less sharp. “MacFaris himself?”
“Nay.” The lad shook his head quickly, tears streaming down his face. “A young man in black. He asked me to deliver a message from MacFaris. Said he kent where me maither worked, and that he—” He broke off, wiping snot with the back of his hand.
Aaron looked away, forcing himself to breathe.
Think. Rage willnae find her.
“This man in black,” he said, his voice carefully controlled now despite everything screaming inside him. “He left after givin’ ye the message?”
The lad nodded frantically. “Aye. I ran straight to find ye.”
Aaron’s chest tightened. He had spotted a man disappearing west earlier in the courtyard, but he had barely seen his face, and he was not certain it was him.
