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“You just about strangled poor Branton,” Maira snapped. “That is reason enough.”
“Reason enough?” Alastair’s eyes opened wide in disbelief. “The lad tried to kill me and stole my horse.”
“Aye, I did do that,” said Branton sheepishly. “But his clan was trying to kill us, so it was done in self-defense.”
“Next time ye stab a man in the side and steal his horse, be sure to finish him off,” growled Alastair. “If no’, ye are always goin’ to be lookin’ over yer shoulder because he is goin’ to come for ye, I promise. Ye’d be wise to remember that.”
The tip of Branton’s sword lowered. He swallowed forcefully. “I – I have never killed a man before,” he admitted.
“And ye still havena,” Alastair pointed out. “Now untie me, anon.”
“No’ until ye promise no’ to hurt Branton,” said Fia.
“Or us,” added Willow.
“Fine, I promise. Now, untie me.”
“Dinna do it,” warned Morag shaking her head furiously. “He is no’ to be trusted.”
“He did bury Imanie, just like he promised,” Fia reminded her. The girls seemed to consider the situation. “What do ye all think?”
“Don’t untie him, or he’ll come for me,” said Branton, sounding very scared.
“I said I wouldna, so ye have no reason to fear me,” Alastair told the boy.
“How can we trust you?” asked Willow, giving him the evil eye.
Alastair looked at one girl after another, and his gaze stopped on the young lad they called Branton. He wanted to kill him for what he’d done, that wasn’t a lie. Usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any man who wounded him and stole his horse. But this boy was a lad no older than about four and ten years of age. He wasn’t even old enough yet to know how to handle a sword, let alone hold it correctly with one hand. Alastair remembered when he was that age. It was the first time he’d killed a man, going to battle with his father and his clan. He was as frightened as Branton looked right now. It wasn’t a good feeling at all, but he got numb to it over time.
“I gave ye my word, and I willna break it.”
“I believe him,” said Fia with a satisfied nod. “He promised to bury Imanie, and he did just that when he could have verra well left on her horse.”
He almost did leave, but they didn’t need to know that. Part of him was glad he had honored their agreement, but now he started to wonder if he should have left and never even looked back. If so, he wouldn’t be in this position right now.
After much deliberation, Fia talked the group into agreeing with her. “We’ll untie ye, but first we will pay our last respects to Imanie,” she announced.
The small groupmade their way to the old woman’s gravesite, talking amongst themselves.
“I still don’t like the idea of setting a Highlander free,” complained Branton. “Especially since I was the one who wounded him and stole his horse. We need to tell Lord Beaufort he’s hiding here.”
“Nay!” Fia didn’t want that to happen. “Alastair kept his word. Now we must keep ours.”
“Fia, he’s theenemy,” Willow said, stressing the word enemy.
“Aye. A wounded enemy who moments ago wanted to take off my head,” Branton added. “What is this secret garden anyway and how come no one knows about it?”
“Ye canna tell anyone,” said Morag. “It is where Imanie trained my sister and cousins and where she met in secret with other members of the group.”
“What group?” asked Branton in confusion.
“Morag!” Fia scolded. “Ye werena supposed to tell him that. Now, no more.”
“What difference does it make now that Imanie is dead?” asked Willow. “We’ll probably never come to this garden again after today, anyway.”
“I’ll miss comin’ here, and I am goin’ to miss Imanie.” Fia knelt down, paying her respects to their departed friend.
“So will I,” said Maira. “I had so much more to learn.”
