Page 46 of Nyall

He could see the glitter in her eyes was not from anger, and imagined what it had cost her to hold back her tears. “My thanks.”

“Aw, now he’s grateful.” Caroline lifted her skirts and stepped over the low stone wall between them, coming to stand only a few inches from him. “I’m going to talk to your laird and get the okay to move into the cottage–”

“I asked, and he told me you may,” he put in quickly.

“–then I’m going to pack up right now and move over there. Let’s keep this simple and easy: Jamaran, you’re welcome to visit any time you want.” Caroline poked a finger into Nyall’s chest. “You will wait for an invitation.”

She was testing his patience now, but Nyall suspected she wanted him to become as angry as she was. She had no idea how happy she’d just made him.

“I shall wait,” he agreed, “and no’ hold my breath.”

“A wise decision, Captain Pain in My Ass.” She glanced over her shoulder as Jamaran came up behind her. “Do not explain his crap or apologize for him. You’re the good boyfriend.”

The commander slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “You shall invite him join us soon?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “All right, you can come over, too.”

Chapter Fourteen

Speal had the mortals from the fisher they had captured dragged down into the hold, where Teine manacled and chained them. Dearg took two of the youngest and strongest into the cabin to entertain Derdrui, and the sound of their screams kept most of the others cowering and subdued. Only one, a copper-haired older man with eyes like green glass, remained calm and watchful. From the many white scars on his arms and hands she judged him to be the one with the most experience, and once the noise from the cabin quieted, had him brought up to the deck.

“If you wish live another day, answer my questions,” she said to him, and got a nod in return. “You’re the head of the crew, then?”

“Aye. My name’s Lugh.” His gaze shifted to Teine, who hovered close by, and his jaw tightened before he said, “What wish you ken?”

Speal knew he was sizing up her sisters, and looking for any advantage he might use to protect himself and his men. Although that might prove an annoyance, she liked him for it. She’d also had him and all his men searched, so if he did attack, he’d have to fight with his manacled hands. “Ken you the MacMar Clan?”

“I’ve heard tales, aye,” he said, showing a flicker of surprise. “None on my crew.”

“I ken that, dolt.” She caught his chin and made him look at her. “What of their enchanted island, and the fish folk that protect the place?”

“’Twould seem you ken more than I,” Lugh said. A low moan that came from the cabin made his eyes fill with disgust. “You’re the witches that attacked Orkney, and murdered all the islanders.”

“Most, no’ all.” She released him. “Aid me in finding the MacMar and their island, and I shall give you whatever you wish.”

The fisherman considered that for a long moment before he said, “How shall you bid me aid you?”

Speal took him over to the map they had been using, and pointed to the area where they had briefly captured the MacMar seneschal and his woman. “Last we encountered a MacMar, ’twas here. You’ve fished there?”

Lugh shook his head. “Too many boats, they’ve vanished out in those waters. Some say ’tis Norsemen that seize the crews, and sink their vessels so they may hide their crimes.”

“Norsemen?” She frowned. “’Tis no’ raider colony anywhere near there.”

He shrugged. “The get of raping bastarts, then.” He lifted his manacled hands. “I may guide you, if you wish find them. Release my eldest deck hands and set them free, and I’ll aid you.”

“Why should you spare the old?” she countered. “Why no’ free the younger?”

“Your Witch Queen shallnae permit you release the lads, as they may endure more and longer. The older men, they’ve wives and bairns depending on them.” He jerked his chin at the skiff lashed to the side of the boat. “Send them off in that, with food, water, and oars.”

Speal sensed he was deceiving her, but couldn’t fathom how. “What of your wife and bairns?”

“I wed the sea long ago,” Lugh said blandly. “She’s a wretched wife, never cooks, and refuses give me bairns.”

She laughed out loud, startling the other Cait Sith watching them.

“I like you, mortal. Mayhap I shall spare your life in the end for amusing me.” She leaned closer to look into his calm eyes. “Fack with me, and you shall long for death the rest of your days.”

His mouth took on a bitter curve as he looked over at the darkening horizon. “’Tis naught new.”