Page 111 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

Brodie gritted his teeth against the pain and sat on the edge of the mattress. He wore a long linen shirt, the chest of it stained with blood from his draining wound.

Needing to see for himself, he pushed up on weak legs and held on to the tall bedpost. He closed his eyes and waited for the lightheadedness to dissipate. "Well?" Brodie asked in the long stretch of silence.

Torr came to him. "Hold on to my shoulder. You can look out."

Hell, if he didn't hate the weakness that made his body feel drained. Swallowing his pride, he held on to Torr's shoulder and walked to the window. He squinted into the far distance at the large tartan-clad force of men moving slowly in their direction on horseback across the moor. They were still at least two-hundred yards away, but the tartan looked familiar.

"Is that Gavin?" Brodie asked.

"Looks like him... with Dani and their clansmen."

Thank the saints it wasn't Talnaroch, for Brodie was unable to fight anyone at the moment.

"Has he brought his whole clan?" Was Brodie hallucinating?

"Looks like close to three score," Torr said.

"Aye," Finnian agreed. "At least."

"Why the devil would he bring so many?" Brodie asked. "What did you and Ma put in that missive?"

"That the witch was going to make a move," Finnian said. "And that you had a powerful force against you. 'Twas what I foresaw in the keek stane."

"Ah," Brodie said, annoyance prickling him like a thistle. He hated that he needed so much help, but at the same time, he was grateful his two brothers were willing to provide it.

"'Tis better to have too many men than not enough. Gavin wants to defeat the witch," Torr said.

"We all do." But Brodie was unsure if his curse would ever be eliminated.

"They're almost to the portcullis," Torr said a few minutes later. "You rest. I'll meet him in the bailey."

Brodie nodded, going to the table, infuriated that he couldn't do something so simple as go downstairs to greet Gavin. "Finnian, can you send in Ruskin to help me with my plaid? And have a maid bring some ale for all of us."

"Aye."

A few minutes later, with Ruskin's help, Brodie sat fully dressed at the table again. Mayhap this eve or tomorrow, he could make it downstairs to the great hall without passing out.

Just after a maid brought three tankards of ale and a pitcher, Gavin entered, his sharp blue gaze concerned. The white slash scar that bisected one dark brow and extended down his face gave him the look of a berserk warrior... or a marauding pirate.

"Saints! You're pale," Gavin said. "Are you well enough to sit up, brother?"

"I'm fine," Brodie said, annoyed that his skin betrayed his weakness. He offered his hand, and Gavin shook it gingerly. Not like his usual powerful handshake.

Brodie ground his teeth.

"Are you in pain?" Gavin asked.

"A little. It has improved since yesterday."

"What the devil happened?"

Torr came in behind him and closed the door.

"Have a seat," Brodie offered. "And some ale. You must be parched after that long ride. Thank you for coming, both of you."

His two best friends sat at the table with him. Brodie and Torr caught Gavin up on everything that had happened thus far.

"We offered to help stop the selkie abductions more than a month ago, when you first told us of it." Gavin sipped the ale.