Daniel winced. “‘Twas I who stirred the badgers. I lost my footing and fell into a hole. Right onto the sleeping creatures, as it turns out. I’m certain I’d not have survived had Gorm not come to my rescue.”
Tears welled up in Isabail’s eyes. How silly was that? Crying over a dog, but not over the wounds done to Daniel. “He was a fine hound.”
MacCurran studied Daniel for a long moment, then spun on his heel and left without another word.
“Has he harmed you, Isabail?” Daniel asked worriedly.
She shook her head. “We’ve been treated quite fairly.”
“What was his purpose in taking you?”
Isabail no longer believed MacCurran’s story about the man in black. In truth, she did not know what to think. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.
“We must find a way to get free,” Daniel said, sitting up. “Every moment you remain here, the risk that he will harm you increases.”
“Lie still.” Isabail pushed him gently back on the mattress. “Let us see you healed and then we can make plans to leave.” She gave him a curious look. “Where were you when they found you?”
“We’d been following a burn. Gorm and I had just left a section of marshland, where the reeds are dried crisp by the winter chill but still standing tall, when we stumbled upon the badger sett.”
“There’s a burn not far from here. Think you we could escape that same way?”
Daniel nodded. “If we can leave the camp undetected.”
Isabail sighed. That was the difficult part. She couldn’t visit the garderobe without someone in her shadow. And that someone was likely to be the MacCurran.
To make a run for it, they’d need a diversion of some sort.
* * *
“Ana is very upset,” Niall said, as they wended through the trees.
Aiden peered into the shadows left and right, but spotted no sign of a disturbed badger sett. “The tale of John Grant’s murder, as told by his sister, is quite damning.”
“As is the tale of John Grant finding the king’s necklace hidden in your chamber.”
Aiden tossed his brother a dagger of a glare. “You know the truth about that.”
“Do I?”
Aiden stopped short. “Do you doubt my veracity?”
“Nay,” Niall said firmly. “Because I trust my gut, and my gut says you’d never participate in such a miserable crime.”
It was easy enough to follow Niall’s argument. “And your gut tells you Ana is innocent, as well.”
“Aye.”
Aiden grunted and continued through the woods. “I’m the chief. I’ve not the luxury of following my gut. I must protect the clan.” He ducked under an arching elderberry branch. “If your Ana is the woman you believe her to be, in time she’ll earn the right to perform her craft without a watchful eye.”
His brother did not look particularly happy about Aiden’s judgment, but he accepted it with a sharp nod. They made their way between the trees in silence for a while, their attention on the sights and sounds of the woodland. A black grouse crossed their path some thirty paces ahead, pecking at the ground, and Aiden paused rather than frighten it into flight. Always better to pass unnoticed.
Only moments after they resumed their trek, the distinctive scent of blood drifted to them downwind. Niall pointed left and Aiden nodded, allowing his brother to take the lead. They circled a hazelnut thicket and traversed a small dip in the land. On the far side, where the earth mounded higher, the snow was pink. A large, scruffy gray shape lay under a low-hanging pine bough.
To the left, thrashed snow and broken bits of twig pointed to the entrance to the badger den.
It would seem de Lourdes’s story was true.
They gave the sleeping badgers a wide berth and carefully made their way to the body of the deerhound. A hero deserved a place in the ground, rather than to provide a meal for scavengers. Aiden lifted the fir branch to look at the dog. It lay on its side, its long graceful legs extended. The animal’s rough coat was matted with blood in several spots, thicker about the poor creature’s neck. Badgers were one of the most vicious opponents in the woodland.
