Page 44 of Luthias

“We’ve found no more signs of the fiend.” Taveon rubbed the back of his neck. “’Tis likely we shallnae. The bastart left no tracks around that cave. Mayhap he’s gone, never to return.”

“He’s been at such for some time.” Luthias related what Emery had told him about the intruder’s skill and knowledge, and saw a weariness fill the war master’s expression. “What do you reckon now that you dinnae wish say?”

“I agree with your lady,” Taveon said slowly. “’Tis something new I learned from one of the villagers. The Carack, they’re searching for a runaway vassal. They’ve asked of her at every inn and stable for miles around their lands. She’s no’ the first to vanish, either. I’ve heard tales of others disappearing over time, never to be found again.”

He thought of the gibbeting cage made of antlers. “You reckon the bastart’s taken them all?”

“None of the bones we found in that cave belonged to a person,” the war master reminded him. “’Twould be difficult to move a mortal body on our land and no’ leave any sign.”

“Difficult, but no’ impossible.” Luthias pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a moment. “He couldnae burn them as we did the Roman dead. The smoke and smell, ’twould alert the patrols. ’Tisnae a place to bury them easily out of sight. Most of the old caves, they’ve collapsed.” He met Taveon’s gaze. “The lochs, then.”

The war master nodded. “Bound with stones and well-pierced through, the bodies would sink. In a few weeks the fish would leave naught but bones. He’d wait to retrieve the bones at night, and do his filthy cobbling elsewhere.”

Was that why he had seen Emery drowning in dark water?

“Set watches around all three lochs from sunset until dawn,” Luthias said. “Assure no vassal or Emery goes near the water until we have him.”

“’Twillnae catch the bastart,” Taveon predicted. “He’s too careful, and likely saw the cave uncovered by the slide and our men standing watch for him. He’ll bide his time for now, I reckon, or take bones from elsewhere.”

“The old Pritani clans would bury their dead in mounds like that we found when clearing the forested lands for pasture,” Luthias recalled. “We left them intact to respect their dead.”

The war master gave him a humorless smile. “I forget how canny you think.”

“I want the facker caught,” he told him. “Before another lass disappears.”

“I’ll set the night watchers at the farms, then.” He rose and came around the table, and put his hand briefly on Luthias’s shoulder. “We’ll keep close watch over her as well, my lord. Only ken that you cannae safeguard her from all the pain she’ll suffer.”

Taveon’s warning stayed with him as Luthias made his way back to his bed chamber. There he saw Emery as he had in his vision in the armory, her pretty face angelic in slumber. She stirred exactly as he had foreseen, and smiled sleepily at him before turning over to show him her bare back.

Luthias stood watching her for a long time.

Chapter Thirteen

When Emery woke she found herself alone in the laird’s bed, but it didn’t trouble her. She knew he always rose early to meet with Darach and his captains, and she imagined he’d have to talk over what she’d said about the intruder with Taveon. She was tempted to stay in bed until he came looking for her, but her empty stomach had other ideas. After washing and dressing she went downstairs to find the great hall deserted, and only a single guard standing watch.

“I guess it’s later than I thought.” She went into the kitchens, where Cook and the sculleries were busy cleaning up. “Fair morning, Mistress. Did I oversleep?”

“No, lass, ’tis some to-do out by the farms. Most of the clan left just after dawn.” The cook handed her some oatcakes but otherwise barely spared her a glance. “Tom, fetch five more sacks for the food, and take those filled out to the cart.” As the scullery hurried out she made a frustrated sound. “The men, they’ll soon return, so I cannae spare the lad to take food to the woodcutters’ camp. Ah, well, ’twill wait.”

“I can take the cart out there.” Emery smiled hopefully. “I know the way from the last time.”

“The laird doesnae wish you leave the stronghold,” Cook told her sternly. “Go and eat your meal now, lass.”

Emery wolfed down the oatcakes and went to help the scullery finish loading.

“This doesn’t look too heavy,” she said, giving the long handle a tug. “I can pull it by myself.”

“The lowlanders, they’re cutting the trees felled by storms on the slopes today,” Tom told her, “so none shall be at the camp. You’ve but to carry the sacks into the headman’s cottage, and then you should hurry back.”

No one had told the scullery that she was supposed to stay at the castle, Emery thought, and grinned.

“Sure, I can do that.” She glanced down as the boy offered her a small, worn-looking homemade dagger. “What’s this for?”

“They’ve no’ caught the man from the cave,” Tom said, looking grim. “If any man comes near, my lady, dinnae wait to stab him. Leave the cart and run for the castle, fast as you may.”

“Thank you.” Emery tucked the blade in her pocket and smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Tom touched his forehead and hurried back into the kitchens.