“Did he say anythin’ else?” Caelan pressed. “Anythin’ at all about where Lady Hallow might be held?”
The lad hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between the two men. “Nay…” he said quietly. “But he said he’s keeping me maither west of the well. I only have to deliver this message before—” He stopped himself, horror crossing his young face at whatever he had been about to say.
“Before what?” Caelan demanded.
“Before he kills her, me Laird,” the lad whispered. “Please, save me maither.”
Silence fell over the chamber, heavy and absolute.
It was as though the wordkillhad driven a dagger through Aaron’s chest. His fists tightened at his sides, his entire body coiling with a fury he rarely ever allowed himself to feel.
He turned to Caelan, his voice dropping to a cold calm that preceded action rather than panic.
“Gather men as discreetly as ye can,” he ordered through gritted teeth. “I willnae have MacFaris alerted that we ken his position before we catch him.”
They had to be west of the castle, near the abandoned gate. It was the only way the old bastard would have sneaked into his land undetected.
“Aye, me Laird.” Caelan was already moving toward the door.
“Wait.”
Caelan paused.
Aaron looked back at the lad, who was visibly shaking as he crouched into a ball at his feet. “See that he is fed and kept safe until this is resolved,” he said. “Have someone search for his maither as well.”
Caelan nodded, already gesturing for one of the guards stationed outside the chamber to come collect the lad.
Once the door had closed behind them, Aaron stood alone for a brief moment, his hands still clenched, his chest tight with a fear he had not permitted himself to fully feel until now.
He thought of Edith’s smile in the courtyard. The warmth of her hand in his only an hour ago, the dance that had felt like something far more honest than a performance.
He thought of MacFaris’s hands anywhere near her, and something in his chest threatened to splinter.
If that bastard has harmed her?—
He did not finish the thought. There was no room for it.
His chest tightened with a cold, methodical fury, a resolve settling in his bones as he strode out of the room, Caelan following behind him.
He would find her. Whatever it cost him.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“Inform Robert,” Aaron said as Caelan followed behind him, his voice dropping slightly. “Protect Scarlett. Then gather more men to secure the festival.”
The matter was sensitive. Neither of them was certain how many of MacFaris’s men had infiltrated the festival. Regardless, they had to be ready to deal with them without allowing the celebration to dissolve into panic.
I willnae have me people slaughtered on me lands.
Caelan’s jaw tightened. “Aye, me Laird.”
Aaron stopped walking then, turning around to face him.
“Swear it to me,” he said, his voice carrying a weight he rarely allowed it to. “Whatever happens, ye’ll protect them.”
If there was one man he trusted above all others, one man he knew would never fail him, it was his man-at-arms. His best friend.
“I swear it on me life,” Caelan said, his voice steady with the certainty that had earned him Aaron’s trust through fifteen years of loyal service. “I will protect them, or I will die tryin’.”
