Page 37 of The Warrior
“That’s true enough.” The chieftain drummed his fingers on the arm of his elaborately carved chair. “But if Hugh hasn’t succeeded in killing his nephew yet, he’s unlikely to.”
Erik waited while his chieftain took a long drink from his cup.
“According to Hugh, Connor has three warriors who have been his closest companions since they were young lads. Hugh says that no one can get to Connor without killing them first.”
Hugh also said that the four who returned from France were willing to die for even the lowliest members of their clan, but that was too foolish to believe.
Alastair MacLeod steepled his hands under his chin and fixed his ice-blue eyes on Erik. “What else do ye know of them?”
“They have trained and fought together for so long that they can read one another’s minds,” Erik said. “Fighting the four of them is like fighting a score of warriors.”
“I’ve heard the same,” the chieftain said.
“Two are Connor’s cousins,” Erik said. “Their mothers were sisters.”
“The Clanranald sisters were famous beauties in their time,” the chieftain said, nodding.
“One cousin holds Knock Castle and the other is keeper of Dunfaileag Castle on the isle of North Uist, so they are no longer part of Connor’s personal guard,” Erik said. “Still, if there is a battle, they will both join in the fight.”
“What of the third man?” the chieftain asked, raising one shaggy eyebrow.
“He is captain of Connor’s personal guard and the most formidable warrior of the four,” Erik said. “Hugh says the man’s never been defeated, but he’s probably lying.”
The chieftain stared into the hearth, leaving Erik to wonder at the direction of his thoughts.
“’Tis good you’re keeping a close eye on Hugh Dubh,” the chieftain said at last. “I don’t like that he learned so quickly that the MacQuillan lad was here. Find out how he knows MacLeod business.”
“I will.” Erik had told Hugh himself, but it would be easy to find someone else on whom he could lay the blame.
Chapter 17
Duncan was still angry when he woke up, so it was just as well that Moira had already left for the healer’s cottage. He steeled himself to see her when he went to see how Niall fared.
When he ducked his head under the doorway, he found Niall on the bed, surrounded by half a dozen giggling young lasses.
“I see you’re well cared for,” Duncan said.
“Aye,” Niall said with a wide grin. “I’m nearly mended.”
“Good. Then we’ll be leaving soon.” Duncan turned to Caitlin. “Where’s Moira?”
Caitlin shook her head. “I haven’t seen her yet today.”
Uneasiness settled in his stomach. Where would Moira go? Duncan started to leave to look for her, but halted with his hand on the latch. “Is there a walking path nearby?”
“Aye, the path that leads to Dunvegan starts just behind the cottage you’re staying in,” Caitlin said. “Moira was asking about it yesterday.”
God preserve him, Moira had gone alone to get her son.
The lass was as unpredictable and as dangerous to herself as ever. As captain of his chieftain’s guard, Duncan was accustomed to having his judgment respected and his orders obeyed. He had told Moira that going to Dunvegan was pure foolishness, but did she listen? No. She did precisely as she pleased with no consideration of the consequences.
“Niall,” he said. “I’m going after Moira. The fool has headed off for Dunvegan by herself.”
“What?” Niall flinched as he swung his legs off the bed. “I’ll come with—”
“Ye will stay right there in that bed,” Duncan said, pointing his finger at him. “Ye re-injure yourself, and you’ll answer to me.”
The pair of them was more trouble than Hugh MacDonald and his pirates.
