Elysia placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Please don’t delay our departure. I’ve prepared myself to leave today. Don’t make me stay another day where the memories of what I leave behind sting my heart.”
Odran looked to her wound. “The truth. You will not suffer the journey?”
She shook her head. “It is a minor wound, the tip of the dagger catching the surface of the flesh. I will be fine. Besides, it is not a long journey. We will arrive by nightfall.”
Odran turned to Finch. “We leave within the hour.”
Finch nodded.
“Make the men aware they are to be on alert. Explain what happened here with Tavish and that others, disgruntled they failed, might lie in wait for us,” Odran ordered.
“Aye, my lord.”
“You believe we may be attacked on our journey?” she asked, her hand that had rested lightly on his arm turning to a slight grip.
“It is a possibility, though I doubt it. They retreat to lick their wounds and make plans. As Tavish said, he is not the last, more will come—the curse will see to that.”
Chapter 17
“Elysia, we’re here,” Odran said, riding through the village. He hated to wake his wife. She had fallen asleep in his arms only a couple of hours ago. He had insisted she ride on his horse with him. He’d leave her protection to no one but himself.
She stirred in his arms.
Thankfully, there had been no attack, but then he hadn’t expected one. Time would be needed to regroup and another plan devised. He did wonder how Tavish had gotten involved with the group. Or that he thought nothing of taking his own life, though in a way that was wise and selfless of him. No man, no matter who he was, was strong enough to survive torture. Tavish would have confessed all. Odran would have learned who was responsible for forming this group of miscreants and put an end to it.
What troubled Odran was that Tavish had given no indication of being anything other than a skilled warrior for his clan. He’d fought beside the Clan MacBridan before the most recent battle. What had changed? What had been his intention for trying to join Odran’s warriors? Had he intended to spy on them? Or had his intentions been to eventually kill Odran but do it so that he would not be blamed for the death?
Odran wished that by some miracle Annis would succeed in what he, Brogan, and Rannick had failed to do—find a way to break the curse and finally bring an end to the madness.
Odran tightened his hold on his wife when she opened her eyes with a stretch, not realizing she was in his arms and on a horse. “Careful,” he warned and she grabbed tight hold of his arm.
“We’re here?” she asked, glancing around seeing little in the dark, few torches leading the way through the village.
“Aye, and you’ll eat and rest before anything else,” he ordered, knowing she had little of either lately.
There was that command to his tone again. The very thing that had always sent an unease through Elysia when hearing it from any powerful man. She had seen for herself how pointless it was to argue with men who commanded and demanded. They were accustomed to having their way, and yet she felt no unease with his command. Was it because her husband’s order was issued out of love rather than demand for obedience?
Elysia’s thoughts were abruptly whisked away when she spotted the keep, a towering ominous shadow embraced by the night sky. It was much larger than Elysia expected and intimidating in its looming presence. The Great Hall was just as daunting, appearing a cavernous yawn that would swallow her whole and it was so quiet that one could hear the spit and crackle of the fire in the enormous hearth when they entered.
Elysia moved closer to her husband’s side and she relished the feel of his strong arm as it slipped around her waist and tucked her close to him as he glanced around the room, the emptiness and quiet seeming to disturb him.
“Find a servant, Finch,” Odran ordered, Finch coming to stand behind him with Lendra in tow.
“Is it usually this quiet?” Elysia asked, keeping her voice soft in worry that it might echo throughout the empty room.
The way her husband’s hand lay on the hilt of his sword and his green eyes darted around the room confirmed his answer before he responded.
“No,” Odran said as Finch hurried into the room, a servant following him.
“Forgive us for not greeting you properly, my lord, but your mother, Lady Margaret, has taken ill, and your father, Lord Fergus, is with her along with the healer,” the servant lass said.
Elysia saw that the young lass kept her head bowed, never looking at Odran.
“My wife needs food and rest, Deara, see to it while I go see my mother,” Odran ordered.