The man before him shrugged.
"What's your name and your position here?" Rebbie demanded of him.
"MacFadden."
The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Rebbie had never met this man before.
MacFadden drew back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "I own this land and the castle."
"Ha!" What a lying whoreson. Rebbie leapt down from the horse, ready to grab the knave through the iron bars of the portcullis, if only he were close enough. "You, sir, are a liar."
MacFadden backed up a step. "Do you have the deed for it?"
"Aye, back at Castle Rebbinglen."
"Well, then." His grin smug, MacFadden shrugged. "You should have brought it with you."
His patience gone, Rebbie drew a loaded pistol from his belt and pointed it through the bars. "Open the gates, MacFadden, or you shall find yourself sprawled upon the ground, bleeding."
The man blanched in the gloaming, his gaze darting from the pistol toRebbie'seyes and back again. The guard beside him fidgeted.
"You're naught but a squatter, are you?" Rebbie accused. He'd heard of this happening before.
"My—my family owned this castle," MacFadden said, a hitch in his voice.
Ah, now Rebbie knew why the name sounded familiar. His father must have mentioned it to him. "Owned. In the past.'Tisnot my fault your grandfather sold it to my grandfather fifty or more years ago." He remembered the story of theMacFaddensnow.
"H-he was desperate!" he stuttered. "His family was starving."
Rebbie blew out a tired breath. Of a certainty, he could understand how MacFadden felt, but the truth remained. "I own the castle now," he said in a calm tone. "Open the gates and I'll allow you to stay for a visit, as long as you behave yourself."
MacFadden narrowed his eyes. He was determined to be contrary.
Rebbie switched the aim of his pistol to the guard. "Open the gate."
The guard nodded briskly. "Aye. Don't shoot,m'laird. I didn't ken he wasn't the true laird." He raised the portcullis.
"I thank you." Rebbie put away his pistol, and led Devil forward into the empty cobblestone courtyard, Calla still perched upon the horse's back. The two MacGrath guards followed. "Where are the rest of the guards?"
"In the great hall, eating their supper," MacFadden said.
"How many?"
"Five, aside fromGudger, here."
"Five?" What the hell could he do with five guards? He was beyond fortunate they'd run into Alasdair, for he and Lachlan would soon arrive with a large garrison. But 'twouldtake at least two or three days for them to travel here.
Before the stables, Rebbie helped Calla down from the horse. Her gaze meeting his in the low light of gloaming was like a kick in the gut. Damnation, but she was beautiful.
Needing to think clearly, he forced his gaze away. "Do I employ a stable lad?"
At his words, a gangly boy of about fifteen summers emerged from the stables. "Aye."
"What's your name, lad?" Rebbie asked.
"Nathan."
"Nathan, take good care of Devil, here, or he will let his displeasure be known."
