Silver Flame

Chapter 12

“A nd what rock did ye climb out from under?”

Martin looked at the strident Arabel in feigned surprise as he sat down at the head table in Dorchabeinn’s great hall. He made no reply as he filled his bowl with steaming oatmeal and cut himself a thick slab of bread. Even though he had not dawdled he had still been far behind Arabel, Malise, and their men in returning from Duncoille. It had been sunset by the time Dorchabeinn had loomed up before him and, as was the rule at sunset, the gates had been securely shut, not to be opened until sunrise unless otherwise ordered by Arabel or Malise. Even he was left stranded if he did not get within Dorchabeinn’s stout walls before the sun went down. For the first time, he had not even tried to get inside but had found a place to camp and spent most of the night staring up at the stars. He was not sure if he had reached any real decisions, but he did feel unusually content. Even Arabel’s sharp angry tone did not disturb his sense of peace.

“Weel?” she snapped, glaring at him from across the table.

“Weel what?” He saw her eyes widen slightly and realized that he had been almost impertinent.

“Where were ye? Certainly not with us.”

“I wasnae far behind ye. I arrived at sunset.”

“Did ye? I didnae hear ye whining to get in as ye usually do.”

“Nay, because, after all these years, I finally realized that that only served to entertain your sullen guards. I set up camp not far away and waited until the morning.”

“Fine, but why were ye not in the village?” Malise asked. “Why were ye not with us at Duncoille?”

“I was trysting with a young maid and only learned about what had happened after it was all over.”

“Ye were with that Magnusson wench?” demanded Arabel.

“Aye, and for a brief moment, I had thought that I could bring ye some startling news. Howbeit, I soon realized that the lass had only told me what the Logans felt sure ye were about to discover for yourselves.”

“That—that little sorceress, Sine Catriona, is alive,” Arabel hissed, and slammed her fist upon the table. “She and my first husband’s brats by that Seaton whore. We demanded their return, which is our right as their kinsmen, but that ugly, arrogant Lord Logan refused us. If that isnae bad enough, Sine has wed herself to one of the Logans–some bastard git of the baron’s. Now even our claim as her kinsmen is sadly weakened. We must come up with some plan.”

“Ye could seek the aid of the law,” suggested Martin, confident that the Brodies would never do so. “To wed a lass without her kinsmen’s approval is verra nearly abduction. Ye would have no trouble finding witnesses to claim that Logan kidnapped the lass.”

“We cannae go to the court. The mon has gathered together far too many who ache to speak out against us.”

“We could silence them. We need only use the threats we used before, simply remind them of what they might lose if they betray us.”

“’Twill no longer work. Not on all of them. That cursed Lord William has promised them aid and protection. The traitors also gain strength as they realize that they arenae alone in turning against us.”

“Then mayhaps ye should hide here for a while. If ye are verra quiet and little seen, the trouble will pass.”

“How can ye be such a fool? We cannae do that. There is far too much at risk—including Dorchabeinn itself. This is all Sine Catriona’s and the bastards’. Now that they are alive and protected, they can lay claim to nearly all that we own. We should ne’er have ceased the hunt for them, ne’er have assumed that they were dead. Now we must face the consequences of that failure to be diligent.”

Martin successfully hid his concern for Arabel’s offspring as he asked, “So what can ye do?”

“We must gain hold of something that will pull that wretched lass into our hold.”

“Such as what?”

“Dinnae fret, Martin. I shall think of something.”

That was exactly what Martin feared, and he felt a chill run down his spine, shattering his sense of peace for the moment. His first thought was to warn Margot, but he realized that even if he could successfully do that he had no idea what to warn her about. He prayed that Arabel did not plot something too despicable and that she failed in whatever scheme she did devise. Martin also prayed that he was right to believe that Sine Catriona would be the one to bring about the end to the Brodies. He knew his fate was tightly bound to theirs, but he no longer cared. All he wanted was for their reign of greed, bloodshed, and lechery to end.

Sine stretched slowly, all the while watching Gamel slip on his braies and begin to wash up. It was the first morning she had woken up unafraid. For one full week after the Brodies had fled Duncoille, she had been scared of every shadow and everyone she did not know well. She had woken up from nightmares soaked in sweat and shaking. The twins had become extremely annoyed with her, for she had refused to let them out of her sight. It had been much the same with Gamel and Farthing. Finally, after a week of such foolishness, she had managed to quiet her fears. She knew the danger was still present, but she no longer tortured herself, or others, about it.

A soft smile curved her lips as she continued to observe Gamel. He had been extremely patient with her, understanding her fears and soothing her when they tore apart her dreams. Passion had been his strongest weapon to combat her terror. She did not believe there was a private corner of Duncoille where they had not made love. And some not so private, she mused with an inner chuckle. When Gamel turned to look at her, she gave him a smile that brought that delightful spark of interest into his fine green eyes. He tossed aside the cloth he had been using to dry himself with, strode over to the bed, and bent down to kiss her. She murmured her delight in the greeting and twined her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with far more fervor than which he had begun it with.

“Do ye mean to idle the day away in bed?” he asked as he sat on the edge of the goose down mattress.

She turned on her side and smoothed her hand over his strong, lightly haired thigh. “’Tis a thought, but I should soon grow bored if I was here all alone.”

“Ye shouldnae tempt me. I have a great deal of work to do.”

Although she sighed and nodded her head, she began to brush lingering kisses over his thigh and stroke his lower back with her fingers. “I ken it. I have been distracting ye from your work far too often.”

“Aye, and ye are verra distracting indeed.” He buried his fingers in her hair. “I allow ye your way far too much.”

“My way, eh? And here I was thinking that I was letting ye have your way with me.”

“Mayhaps our ways are more alike than we realized.”

Gamel closed his eyes. He savored the way her warm mouth felt against his skin, the soft erotic touch of her fingers at the base of his spine. When he felt her loosen his braies, he opened his eyes just enough to see what she was doing, then groaned, shuddering with pleasure when the warmth of her kisses reached his groin. His breath coming in short, swift gasps as he vainly sought to control his passion, he gave a hoarse cry and fell back onto the bed as the moist heat of her mouth engulfed him.

His enjoyment of that intimate pleasure was short-lived despite his efforts to rein in his desire. When he knew he could last no longer, he grasped her beneath her arms, dragged her body over his and neatly set her on top of him. She looked breathtakingly lovely as she rode him, her natural skill bringing them to a quick release. He caught her firmly in his arms when she collapsed on top of him.

As they lay quietly entwined, regaining their breath and their strength, he idly wondered if she knew the power she held over him. He just wished he knew how to gain a little power of his own. At times he felt as if she owned all the bread and he was the ragged beggar groveling for a few crumbs. Shaking free of that somewhat dark thought, he eased free of her body, sat up, and reached for his braies.

“Ye have become a terrible wanton,” he teased as he stood up and moved to don the rest of his clothes.

“The blame for that can be laid squarely at your feet,” she said as she wrapped the linen sheet around her and sat up on the bed.

“’Tis my fault, is it?” His voice was faintly muffled as he tugged on his jupon.

“Aye. Ye taught me the ways of the flesh. I believe I have simply caught your greed.”

After tying the last of the points on his hose and yanking on his boots, he walked back to the bed and gave her a quick kiss. “I but pray that I can survive both yours and mine.” He winked at her, then strode to the door. “I wouldnae linger in bed too long or the maids will begin to whisper about why ye are so weary each morn,” he called over his shoulder as he went out the door.

She laughed and, after another long stretch, got out of bed. The maids had already been whispering about grass-stained clothes, hay caught in petticoats and hose, and bedclothes so badly tangled that the bed needed to be completely remade each morning. At first Sine had been embarrassed, but she had soon shrugged that emotion away. She doubted she could hide every sign of the passion she and Gamel shared from the keen eyes of the maids. None of the whispers were malicious and some were even envious, so she simply ceased to worry about it.

It would be nice if she could cast all her concerns aside with such ease, she mused. Although she could accept and not fight the fierce passion she and Gamel shared, his gentle attempts at romance were worrisome. The maids were not the only ones who noticed how often he gave her flowers or pretty ribbons that matched her eyes or even the various treats cajoled out of the cook especially for her. All of these things made Sine soften to Gamel in a way that deeply concerned her. She sighed and shook her head. There was nothing she could do except pray that she retained the strength to do what she must—let him go.

A moment later, her spirits rose again. To her delight, a bath was brought in, ordered up by Gamel. He was clearly learning what she liked. Troublesome though that was, such a courtesy was impossible to scorn. The door had barely shut behind the maids before Sine submerged herself in the hot, lavender-scented water.

Her pleasure lessened as she relaxed, her mind filling with thoughts she continually tried to banish. After such a happy, sensuous morning, she did not want to think about how her marriage must end, but her mind refused to allow her the comfort of ignorance. Each time she grew too complacent in her role as Gamel’s wife, her stubborn common sense recalled her to some hard truths.

“Wanton,” Gamel had called her. He had been teasing and his words had not stung her then, but now they haunted her. There might come a day when he spoke the word with bitterness, hurt, and hatred glittering in his eyes. She grimaced as she recalled talking to Farthing about lovemaking just before she met Gamel. She had stoutly vowed that she would know the full richness of it, would taste of the Land of Cockaigne—of paradise. It had seemed like such a reasonable thing to hope for, but now it was her curse.

She knew why her fierce passion for Gamel had frightened her so at first and still worried her from time to time. She feared that some day, like Arabel, one man would no longer be enough to satisfy that hunger. Sine certainly did not want to be with Gamel when and if that happened.

“Curse ye, Arabel,” she whispered, and began to vigorously scrub herself. Even when her mother was finally defeated, Sine knew it would not be the end of her troubles. She would spend the rest of her life fighting the taint of her heritage.

It was late in the day before Sine braved the chamber where the women had gathered to do their needlework. Margot, Lady Edina’s two eldest daughters, and their handmaidens were all there. They smiled in welcome and Sine returned their silent greeting. She had not yet gained the courage to ask for some instruction in the more complicated types of stitchery. As always, she had collected a few of the clothes that needed mending. Sine was confident of her skill in that regard and did not mind performing the chore before the other women. After exchanging another smile with Margot, she sat on the bench next to the girl and began to mend a large tear in one of Gamel’s jupons.

“Has Lord Angus MacGregor arrived yet?” asked Margot as she carefully changed the yarn color in her tapestry.

“Aye, and all the men are secluded within the Logans’ solar. Lady Edina is there as weel.”

Margot smiled faintly. “But ye werenae invited. That must be highly irritating.”

Sine laughed. “Highly.” She grew serious. “’Tis my fight, ’tis a battle I began, and ’tis I who gains if we are victorious. Yet, most often, I am naught but the one who stands aside, waits to be told what must be done. That can become verra tiresome.” She idly tucked a stray lock of hair back beneath her crisp linen headdress. “I do grow more understanding, however.”

“I am not sure I would be.”

“Weel, I am no soldier. I have no skill at plotting how to deal with an enemy. What I have done for six long years is hide. And now isnae the time for me to learn those other skills. That would be like allowing a beardless page to command the charge in some great battle. I also think they are trying to protect me.”

“That is what a mon is trained to do—protect his lady, to keep safe the women and children in his care.”

“Aye, and I can accept that. I am a wee lass and, e’en if I had been trained in the arts of fighting, I couldnae win against a full-grown mon. Weel, not all of the time. Nay, I speak of a different sort of protection. Lord MacGregor is undoubtedly telling some verra dark tales about Arabel and Malise. I believe the reason I have been excluded from the meeting is because Gamel and the others dinnae want me to hear such things. They think they will only hurt, mayhaps frighten me.”

“But dinnae ye want to learn these things?”

“Oh, aye, I do. Howbeit, I will confess that I like the way Gamel tells me what has been learned. He softens it, as much as such evil can be softened. Besides, I dinnae need to learn how dangerous Arabel is. I already ken that weel. While a part of me feels annoyed and insulted about being set aside, another part of me is glad not to hear the Brodies’ victims relate their sordid tales. I carry enough shame.”

Margot shook her head. “The shame isnae yours.”

Sine set aside the mended jupon and picked up some hose, the knees sadly torn. “She is my mother.”

“From all I have learned, ye were but born of her body, then ye became your father’s child. When he was so cruelly murdered, ye became Farthing’s child. They are the ones ye have learned from, not Arabel.”

A flicker of hope rippled through Sine. “I pray ye are right. ’Twould please me no end if Arabel’s taint ne’er touches me. Howbeit, she is of my blood. I can ne’er ignore that.” To her disappointment she noticed that Margot had no more to say.

When Gamel’s five-year-old tiny half sister, Lilith, arrived to tell Sine that Gamel wished to see her, Sine did not hesitate to leave the other women. She was beginning to run out of mending to do and Margot was talking of helping her begin a tapestry. Trying not to look too eager to answer Gamel’s summons, she followed Lilith out of the women’s quarters and hurried away to where Gamel waited for her in the outer bailey. He stood by the open gates watching a small knot of riders leaving Duncoille. Frowning a little, Sine walked over to him.

“Is that Lord MacGregor leaving?” she asked as she stopped by Gamel’s side and he draped his arm about her shoulders.

“Aye. The mon isnae in the best of health. He wished to stay, but my father convinced him to return to his wife. He left us a dozen good, strong men, however.”

“Do ye think we shall have need of them?”

“There is a good chance. The Brodies dinnae want to lose all they have gathered up over the years. They need their lands and coin to support their sumptuous life. If they surrender, they ken that they will lose most of it. Land and money will be returned to those they have tricked to gain it. I suspect they will be willing to fight to keep every sheep or tuft of moss they now hold.”

Sine nodded. “Aye. They will and they shall use my presence to make it appear justified. Do ye think anyone will believe them?”

“Nay. My father sent word to the king and has already received a reply. The king says that he will not make a judgment on this. He considers it a family squabble.” Gamel looked down at her and smiled.

“A family squabble?” She laughed, but knew that it was more sad than funny. “The king has closed his eyes, turned his back, and decided to leave it to the fates, hasnae he? I ken that ’tis rare for a king to interfere in such things, but I had thought he would take a wee bit more interest in this particular one. He must ken that this family squabble could become a verra bloody one.”

“Aye, but one mustnae judge the king too harshly. We are two wealthy, if small, clans, each with some power, declaring that we have a claim to ye. Since he doesnae want to take any chance that the Brodies might use him to try and hurt us, to pull him to their side through the courts or their allies, and thus win, he has chosen to retreat from the matter. It may seem as if he treats the Brodies a wee bit too kindly by allowing them a free rein here, but dinnae forget, he has given us free rein to do what we feel we must as weel. ’Tis no small thing.”

“I ken it. Weel, what did Lord MacGregor have to say? Anything helpful?”

“Nay. We had hoped that he would recall more of Dorchabeinn than he proved able to. It seems he was soaked in wine for most of his stay there. Still and all, Father and Lord Thomas added a wee bit to their map.”

“I dearly wish that I could recall more. ’Twas my home. Ye would think that my memories of it would be stronger than they are.”

“Ye were but a wee lass when ye fled and ye havenae seen the place for six long years. Also, ye werenae yet of an age to notice what could be useful to us. Then, too, the place has undoubtedly been altered some since then.”

She nodded, then peeked up at him. “Ye didnae really tell me what Lord MacGregor had to say.”

“I swear to ye, he didnae add much to what I have already told ye. In truth, we now but reaffirm what we have already learned elsewhere. Ye shall have to work verra hard to restore honor to Dorchabeinn and the Brodie name. Arabel and Malise have soaked both of them in treachery and dishonor.”

“Mayhaps I will ne’er be able to scrub it away.”

He kissed her cheek, took her by the hand, and started toward the keep. “Aye, ye will. The tale of your quest to regain your birthright has already traveled far and wide. Your father is also weel remembered. I but wished ye to understand that removing Arabel and Malise willnae completely remove the harm they have done, not considering everyone they have wronged. Ye will have to deal with the mistrust and hate they have left in their wake. There will be those who will demand that ye make atonement for your mother’s crimes—especially those who have lost land or money to her.”

“I believe I have understood that from the verra beginning,” she murmured, and prayed that her heritage did not doom her to add to that harm.

Sine watched young Lilith skip down the hall toward the nursery and frowned. The little girl had not been very helpful. She had seen the twins but was not sure where they were at the moment. No one seemed to know. Sine began to feel concerned. Even reminding herself that Duncoille was a very large keep with many places for two small boys to hide did not calm her growing apprehension. Arabel’s cold threat whispered through her mind, the fury and hatred behind her words giving them force.

Sine softly cursed her fears and the Brodies for causing them as she hurried toward the great hall. It was time to cease depending upon the youngest Logans and the other children of Duncoille to keep an eye on her half brothers. They could not really understand why it was so important to maintain a watch on Dane and Ree. In their short lifetimes the safety of Duncoille had never truly been breached. Children also needed to see a danger to fully comprehend the threat, and there was no hostile army clamoring outside Duncoille’s thick walls. There was only talk—threats and whispers of wrongdoing.

In the great hall the servants were preparing for the evening meal. Sine nevertheless asked if any of them had seen her brothers. She got the answer that was beginning to chill her—no one had seen the twins for several hours. Although she tried not to give in to panic, she knew there was a frantic air to her actions as she retraced her earlier, calmer route through Duncoille. The blacksmith, the stable master, and even the dairymaids all gave her the same reply.

Her heart was pounding with fear as she left the falconer having heard yet another reply of “I dinnae ken.” She hiked up her skirts and raced back inside the keep. Sine entered the great hall with an abruptness that drew the immediate attention of the four men now gathered near the fireplace at the far end of the hall. Slowing her pace only a little, Sine moved toward Gamel, Farthing, and their fathers, pleased that she would not have to search for them as well.

“What is wrong, dearling?” Gamel asked, taking her hand when she reached his side.

“Have any of ye seen Dane and Ree?” she asked, including Sir Lesley, Ligulf, Nigel, and Norman in her question as, just then, those four joined them.

“I was tossing the dice with them this morning, but that was hours ago.” Gamel frowned.

“I saw the boys in the armorer’s shed,” replied Sir Lesley. “’Twas not so long ago.”

“Nearly three hours ago, or so the armorer says,” Sine corrected. “He appears to be the last one to have seen them. Although I can find a score or more who saw them at some time today, I can find no one who has seen them since they left the armorer’s shed.”

Gamel gently urged her to sit down on a stool near the massive fireplace. “Calm yourself, Sine. Dinnae forget that Dane and Ree are but lads and there is many a place in Duncoille where they could hide or play unseen. The people ye have spoken to could easily be mistaken as to when they last saw them. They could be recalling only when they last spoke to the boys or had to shoo them out of the way.”

“None of the other children can recall having seen them in the last few hours either.”

“Come, Sine, ye ken as weel as I that a child oftimes has a poor sense of time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sine could see the other residents of Duncoille entering the great hall, including Lady Edina and Margot, who made their way toward them. “They both have a good sense of when it is time to eat, yet I still dinnae see them,” Sine added, and it did not help her regain any sense of calm when the men just frowned.

“Is something amiss?” asked Lady Edina, stopping next to her husband.

“Young Dane and Ree cannae be found,” replied Lord William.

“Mayhaps they have just become entangled in some mischief and have forgotten how much time has passed,” Lady Edina said, reaching over to give Sine a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Weel, when I find them, they will sorely regret the lapse,” muttered Farthing. “Sit here, lass.” He kissed Sine’s cheek. “Calm your fears. We will ferret them out.”

The other men murmured agreement and all of them followed Farthing out of the great hall. Gamel paused only to give her a quick kiss. Sine tried to smile as Lady Edina called for a goblet of mulled cider, then urged Sine to drink it. A few sips of the hot, spiced drink did ease her fears a little, but she could not stop herself from constantly looking toward the heavy doors of the great hall.

“Lass, I am certain we have no traitors here,” said Lady Edina, tugging a stool closer to Sine and sitting down. “Not one of our people would aid the Brodies.”

“I ken it.” Sine sighed and shook her head. “That was ne’er one of my fears.”

“Then the laddies must be about somewhere.”

“Must they? M’lady, ye ken weel how children are. If the knife’s blade isnae tickling their throats, they can forget that they are in danger. My fear is that the twins have become infected with the sense of safety all the other children of Duncoille feel. What if they forgot the need to stay close at hand?”

“Ye think that they might have ventured outside of the walls?” asked Margot.

“’Tis possible.” Sine shook her head. “There would be no need for the Brodies to try and get someone within the gates of Duncoille then, would there? Nay, they could but stand aside and wait for my brothers to come to them.”

“But the Brodies would have to sit outside of the gates and wait for what might ne’er happen,” murmured Margot. “Ye dinnae think they would do that, do ye?”

“Aye. I believe that they have spies set all about us even now, waiting for commands from their masters, ever watchful for some chance to curry favor with Arabel and Malise.”

Lady Edina nodded and grimaced. “Aye, Margot. Sine is right, I fear. Our men-at-arms have been trying to keep the land cleared of Brodie spies, but ’tisnae easily done. The curs just slink back when darkness falls or our men leave the area. The enemy is out there.” She looked at Sine. “Howbeit, Dane and Ree have spent most of their young lives aware of the need to hide. It must be a lesson weel learned by now.”

“I pray that ye are right, Lady Edina. I shudder to think of what could happen if the Brodies got hold of them.”

When Lady Edina reached out to pat her hand in a gesture of silent comfort, Sine tried to smile but knew that she failed miserably. If her brothers had fallen into the hands of their enemies, then all she and her allies had done would be for naught. The Brodies would have a weapon to wield against her that she could never turn aside.

Gamel cursed and stood before the keep, wondering where he should look next. Even as he acknowledged that there was nowhere within Duncoille that had not been searched, he saw Farthing and the others coming toward him. None of them wore an expression which raised his hopes. The servants and soldiers were also returning to their work or their evening meal. Only a few glanced his way, and he knew that their searches had been as fruitless as his own. Gamel began to feel some of the panic he had seen in Sine’s pale face.

“Nary a trace of the little fools,” snapped Farthing as he stopped before Gamel, concern making his tone sharp.

“Mayhaps there is someplace we have failed to search.”

“I fear not, Gamel,” replied Sir Lesley as he brushed grayed cobwebs from his fine blue jupon. “Ligulf and I peered into some places so small we nearly didnae get out of them.”

“They cannae have just disappeared.” Gamel looked around as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Nay.” His hands on his hips, Farthing scowled toward the gates of Duncoille. “Howbeit, I could almost wish they had. ’Tis certain that they are no longer within these walls.”

“I dinnae like to think that there is a traitor here,” said Lord William.

Farthing shook his head. “I dinnae believe there is one, m’lord. ’Twould be nearly impossible to try and drag two unwilling lads away. Nay, I fear the wee pair of fools have put themselves in danger without any aid or guile. One thing is certain—they arenae within Duncoille.”

“So they must be outside.” Gamel cursed and looked up at the sky. “We have about an hour of daylight left to us. That doesnae seem verra much.”

Lord William scowled and rubbed his chin. “’Twill be enough, mayhaps, to find some sign of them.”

As he met Gamel’s gaze, Farthing asked, “Should I tell Sine or shall ye?”

“I will tell her simply that we are still searching. ’Tis the truth.”

“Ye should tell her the full truth as ye ken it. Ye willnae ease her fears by trying to be secretive.”

Gamel nodded and started toward the keep. “Saddle my horse. I will join ye in a moment.”

Sine tensed when Gamel returned to the great hall alone, his expression solemn. In her mind’s eye she could see herself running over to him and demanding information, but her body refused to move. As he drew near, she even felt the urge to run and hide in her bedchamber, as if she could avert the tragedy by refusing to hear what he had to say. She did neither. She sat stiffly on the stool, clutching her goblet so tightly that her hands ached, and staring up at Gamel beseechingly when he stood before her.

“Ye havenae found them,” she whispered.

Gamel gently grasped her by the shoulders and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Nay, but we will. Dinnae think the worst. We have no proof of it yet.” He prayed that his voice held only comfort and confidence and none of the very real fear he felt for the boys’ safety.

“The lads arenae at Duncoille. Isnae that proof enough that the worst has happened?”

“Nay, dearling, and if ye werenae so worried, ye would ken it. It but means that we havenae found them. It doesnae have to mean that the Brodies have.”

“And just what else could it mean?” she snapped.

“That they have wandered away from Duncoille, mayhaps gotten a wee bit lost. It could be as simple as that. We may e’en meet them as they return. Now, I had best leave so that we can begin the search.”

“I will go with ye.” Sine began to stand, only to feel Gamel’s grip tighten upon her shoulders. He held her in her seat. “Ye mean to deny me the chance to search for my own brothers?” she asked.

“Aye, I do. If, and I say if, the worst has happened and the Brodies have caught the lads, ’twill be best if ye are here. We dinnae want to give them the chance to capture all of ye. Then we will have lost the battle ere we have struck the first blow.”

“Ye dinnae think we have lost if they have taken the twins?”

“Nay. We might still have a chance, for they need ye far more than they need those two lads. They will try to use the boys to bring ye to them. If they get ye as weel, they will simply kill all three of ye as swiftly as they can. Then all we could do would be to try to make the Brodies pay for those murders. I prefer to stop the killing rather than have to avenge it. So, stay right here, and let us hunt for Dane and Ree. We will find them. Ye can spend your time here thinking of how ye will punish them for their carelessness.” When Sine did not speak, he brushed a kiss over her lips. “We will find them, lass. Believe that.”

“Aye, I shall try,” she whispered.

After Gamel left, she looked at Margot and Lady Edina. Both women tried to smile encouragingly, but Sine could see the concern in their eyes. They feared the same thing she did.

“The Brodies have my brothers,” she murmured.

“Lass, ye cannae be sure of it,” Lady Edina said.

“Oh, aye, I can be. I ken it in my heart, my mind, and with every drop of blood in my veins.”

“Ye didnae see the boys taken away by the Brodies.” Margot spoke with a firmness that made Lady Edina and Sine look at her with a touch of surprise. “Weel, ye didnae. And ye dinnae possess the sight. So how can ye be sure?”

Margot was speaking perfect sense, but even her calm, firm logic did not make Sine’s conviction waver. Instead of being able to dismiss her certainty as an unproven thing born of fear, she grew more sure with each passing moment. Arabel had Dane and Ree. Sine shuddered. She could almost hear Arabel’s triumphant laughter.