“The land was divided between the three cursed lords.”
“Equally?” she asked, her curiosity far from settled.
“More was granted to the Clan MacClaren since Lord Lochlann had led the group against the Clan MacWilliam. And the reason many believe the Clan MacClaren suffered worse than the other two clans.”
Brogan suddenly rose up on his horse, his head turning as if expecting to see someone.
“What is it?” Annis asked, casting a glance about as well.
“Do you hear that?” Brogan asked, his eyes darting about.
Annis listened and was about to shake her head when she caught a sound, a rumble of sorts. She listened intently, trying to make out the sound and smiled. “The rumblings of a cart along the rutted path.”
“A cart that draws near,” Brogan said, keeping a watchful eye.
“Someone we can inquire about the woman with the limp,” Annis said, pleased.
Brogan was not as pleased. “Or trouble heads our way. You will watch your tongue with strangers.”
Annis bristled. “Is that an order?”
“It is a strong suggestion, mo ghràdh,” Brogan said with a wink.
“You think I would speak unwisely to strangers?”
Brogan grinned. “The fun of having you as a wife is that I never know what you will say or do. I only ask that you take pity on me, since if you stir someone’s ire, it will be me who defends and protects you.”
“I do not need you to fight my battles,” Annis said with a proud lift of her chin.
“We are wed which makes your battle my battle.”
Before Annis could say that his battles were hers as well, she spotted the cart in the distance.
“Keep a keen eye around you. Thieves sometimes send out a lone traveler to trick others,” Brogan warned.
Annis did as he said, not that he had to tell her. She had thought the same herself, having heard tales from travelers who stopped by her old clan.
It wasn’t long before they were nearly on top of the cart, a lone man sitting atop it and keeping the lone horse to a slow gait.
“A fine day to you,” the elderly man said with a nod when they approached.
“A fine one to you as well,” Brogan said. “A moment if you would?”
The man eased the horse to a stop. “What may I do for you, kind sir?”
“We search for an old woman with a limp. By chance would you have seen her?” Brogan asked.
The elderly man scratched his head, giving it thought and Brogan reached in his cloak and pulled out a coin to hand to the man. “For your troubles.”
The man’s aged face brightened. “Most generous of you, my lord, but I can be of no help. I have crossed no paths with a woman who limps.”
Brogan continued speaking with the man, asking a few more questions.
“You questioned him wisely,” Annis said, impressed when they were once again on their way. “At least we know where not to go since she has not been seen there. Hopefully, we will come across some news about the woman with a limp sooner rather than later.” She gave her head a tilt when she cast a quick glance at him. “Do you doubt the witch’s word that the MacWilliam bairn lives?”
“What I question more is that if she truly lives, that means my father lied and that has me wondering why?”
She offered an explanation she was certain he must have thought himself. “Not necessarily. He could have believed that the bairn he and Lord Lochlann killed was the MacWilliam bairn.”
“I would argue since my father is no fool and would have wanted to make certain he murdered the correct bairn.” He cringed at his remark. “I cannot imagine taking the life of a wee bairn.”
“An honorable man would not, he would find a way to avoid it,” she said.
“You do not believe my father honorable?”
“I do not believe any of the three cursed lords who took part in that horrible day are honorable.”
“If anything, you are honest, wife.” He smiled not only at her truthful response but how good it felt to call her wife.
“Always, husband,” she said with a grin.
Two words he hoped he would hear for years to come. Nay, that was not true. Two words he intended to hear for years to come. He did not intend to let her go, not ever. He loved her far too much.
“I would never grow tired of hearing those words fall from your lips.”
His smile was soft and there wasn’t a hint of teasing to his words—he meant them. She did not know how to respond and was relieved he saved her from doing so.
“The forest grows dense from here on, a perfect spot for thieves. We need to remain alert,” Brogan warned. “If we are attacked along the way, you must flee while I fight. And you must fight the urge to faint if there is blood, for you will leave yourself vulnerable.”