Page 48 of Luthias

The smile left Emery’s lips to dance in her eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

Chapter Fourteen

Callum stayed in the shadows at the edge of the clearing, looking down at the MacRoss stronghold. He’d secretly followed Emery from the camp, and watched how Luthias had reacted when he’d found her alone. A blind man could see that the laird had become entirely bewitched by the lass. He could use that to control the only other man as powerful as he was in the highlands. The MacRoss had always been his enemy, but he could easily bring him to his knees by using Emery as a weapon.

Emery, who only a few hours ago had cleaned and bound his leg––and that while somehow knowing he had injured himself deliberately.

As laird of the Carack, Callum commanded a full garrison of immortal half-Fae warriors, ruled over thousands of mortals, and instilled fear in the hearts of everyone who even imagined crossing him. He had gathered so much wealth he could purchase a country of his own with coin to spare. Every powerful mortal laird in the highlands feared his wrath. No one had ever prevailed over him or his clan. Even in the times of skirmishing with the MacRoss they had always fought to a draw, never a victory. He knew what he was, and his duty to his clan, and yet with four words that little lass had completely disarmed him.

You’re a nice man.

For a moment her claim had even given Callum some hope. Any feeling he might have stirred in her should have shown in her eyes, but now he suspected he would never win her heart away from the MacRoss. He’d heard the change in her voice today when she’d spoken about the laird. She claimed they shared only friendship, but he sensed she had already become Luthias’s lover.

It should have angered him to lose Emery to Luthias, but Callum almost felt sorry for both of them. The MacRoss could not marry a mortal, nor sire her bairns. The lass would not remain in a time not her own. Whatever they felt for each other was doomed to end in heartbreak.

As Athdara broke my heart. For all his flirtation with Emery he still loved the jewel-setter, and it made him bitter, for his traitorous woman would never feel the same for him.

He still wanted Emery for himself, and despite knowing she loved Luthias he had no qualms about stealing her from the MacRoss. He could give her a better life at Dun Deigh, and in time she might transfer her affections to him. He could learn to love her as well. Adorned in Carack baubles and silks, her every wont fulfilled, aye, she could reconsider her choices.

He did not yet love her, Callum thought, but he would have her.

“One blow with a blade to your neck,” a dry voice said from behind him, “and I’d be laird. I might even blame your death on the MacRoss and no one would ever ken the truth.”

Callum turned around to face his brother. “Dinnae sport with me, I’m no’ in the mood. What news?”

“Fierce summer storms keep the ships from crossing now, so the MacRoss black sheep remains in Francia. I sent riders down to Athdara’s village in the lowlands, but she’s no’ gone home or sent word or coin to her kin.” Struan smiled sourly. “Her sire even spat on the ground when my men asked after her, cursed her for a slut and claimed she’s shunned for life. Her people, they’ll no’ welcome her back.”

It took a moment for Callum to remember the jewel-setter’s sly smile. “Aye, I believe that.”

“You’ve found no trace of the thieving wench?” When he shook his head Struan leaned against the alder beside him. “’Tis no more reason for you to continue the ruse. Return to Dun Deigh now before one of the MacRoss grows a brain and finds you.”

The prospect of going home should have made him happy––Callum had tired of playing woodcutter––but dual images of Athdara and Emery smiling at him got in the way. “You’re eager to give up the dais.”

“I’m your war master. I protect my laird as well as my clan, which I cannae do while you play woodcutter to spy on Luthias and dally with his wench.” He nodded toward the north. “Our watchers saw the clan searching the woods near their pasturelands. Every man in their garrison, or so ’twas reported. The MacRoss also summoned a druid to one of the old burial mounds. He’d do that if ’twas disturbed, I reckon. The bone cobbler yet works on.”

“You’ve kept the clan at Dun Deigh since they found the cave, havenae you?” When Struan nodded he felt better and worse at the same time. “Then he must be a MacRoss, or a bastart half-Fae.”

“Mayhap.” The war master studied him for a moment. “Take the wench or no’, but come home. The bastart may next move to our lands.”

He thought of what the MacRoss had said to Emery in the forest earlier. He wouldnae permit her leave the stronghold alone again, Callum suspected, but it would be nothing for him to slip into the castle or lure her out. If he took her to Dun Deigh, he knew he could keep her safe.

Aye, and keep her from that fack Luthias.

“I leave on the morrow,” he finally told Struan. “I shall bring Mistress Parker with me when I return to the keepe. Prepare a chamber for her near my own.”

His brother smiled his approval. “Aye, my lord.”

The next morning Emery tried to tiptoe through the great hall on her way to the kitchens, but nearly collided with Camdyn as he came out carrying two platters of food.

“Watch yourself,” he said, and then frowned at her. “Only now do you arise, you lazy wench?”

“I had a late night.” And an early morning, she added silently, feeling her face going pink. “Can I come to the forge after breakfast and–”

“No.” The armorer stalked off to thump the platters down in front of Taveon before he sat down to eat.

“I’m so popular.” Emery saw Darach walking with some of his soldiers out to the lists, but no sign of Luthias. Sighing, she went into the kitchens, where one of the maids gave her a bowl of pottage, some bread and her favorite morning brew on a tray. “Where’s Cook this morning?”

“She’s with a master druid in the gardens.” The other girl sighed. “He’s handsome, but so young. I reckoned he’d look old and wizened, to hold such high rank.”