Chapter Two #2
“Nay, wait, please,” Hagen called out, stopping her. “We’ve come to invite you all to the Yuletide festival at Duart Castle. Lots of family and friends, plenty of food. Big hunts the day before. You’re all invited.”
Brynja and Hildi turned to leave.
“You too,” Hagen called out. “You’re both invited.”
Brynja stopped and spun around. “Our thanks, but we stay at the nunnery. They don’t allow us to leave the isle. Too dangerous.”
“I’ll protect you, lass.” Hagen’s gaze locked on hers. The pain he saw there took him by surprise. Who had hurt her? He took two steps closer. “It would be my honor to protect you.”
She never smiled, never changed her composure. He swore she had ice in her veins, but what he wanted to know was who had put it there. Her reply was brief. “My thanks, but we’ll stay here.”
Hagen bristled at her quick response, as foolish as it was. Either way, he was going to let it pass. “I’m telling you that you need to come. I’m certain you’ll enjoy it.” He would not allow her to stay back, hiding in a nunnery. She didn’t belong in such a place.
Brynja took two steps toward him. “Are you trying to tell me what to do?”
Hagen noticed Simone’s smile and Artan’s hand now covering his face. “I’m telling you that anyone would be a fool not to accept such an invitation. If you have a good reason not to, please say so.”
Paden said, “Mayhap because you’re an arse, Hagen?”
Hildi whispered, “She’s had a bad day.”
Jowell approached Hildi and asked, “Is there anything we can do to help?”
Hildi shook her head, her gaze locked on Brynja, who still hadn’t spoken.
The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t done with him yet, and Hagen couldn’t wait to hear the lame excuse she was busy creating. His hands went to his hips. “Well? Your reason?”
“My reason is that I would prefer not to spend my time with arrogant fools who think they can order me about. Is that what you think? That your position means you have the right to order lasses around? Do you think men are better than women too? Because you’ll never tell me what to do.”
Hagen glanced at Simone and Artan, realizing he’d been a bit too harsh.
“My apologies, lass. I do not have the right to control you. That was not my intent. I spoke too quickly. Do as you wish.” Hellfire, but that couldn’t have gone worse.
Now he had to find a way to make up for his crudeness.
Somehow, he knew she wouldn’t make it easy.
The fury in Brynja’s gaze simmered until it was as cold as any he’d ever seen.
Jowell said, “Ignore him. How can we help?”
Brynja turned her back to Hagen and spoke directly to Jowell. “Since you and your friends are here, may I ask a question?”
Hildi came up to stand beside her, crossing her arms. Hildi was half a head shorter than Brynja with darker hair, but he had had to agree with Jowell. She was also a fine beauty.
“Of course,” Paden said. “We’ll help however we can.”
“Do you patrol Mull?”
“All the time.” Jowell stepped forward, eyes sparkling with interest. Jowell had always been a bit more intense.
“Have you seen any unwelcome strangers?” Brynja asked, crossing her arms. “New ones?”
Hagen looked to Artan, confused. “We haven’t. Artan? Simone? Are you looking for someone in particular? Clyde is dead. He was the one who came for Sheona, correct?”
“Clyde is dead,” Simone confirmed. “And Roger won’t bother anyone again.
He’s in chains, as far as I understand. We haven’t seen anyone on Mull, but we’ve all noticed a boat circling Iona of late.
And we don’t know who they are. Can’t get close enough to identify either of the men in the boat.
They’re quite careful. No one comes near Iona that often. ”
“Any idea where they’re from?” Jowell asked, swinging his chestnut-colored locks away from his face. “Where do they go when they leave?”
“We don’t know,” Artan explained. “They could be from Coll or Tiree. Ulva. The mainland. We have Thane and his men keeping watch as well.”
Thane MacQuarie was chieftain of Clan MacQuarie, situated on the northwestern side of Mull.
“Any idea who it would be?” Hagen asked, his hands settling on his hips. A fury was building inside him—he had a sudden inkling of what they were going to say.
Brynja waited until the others all denied knowing the identity of the fools in the boat. Then she said with a conviction that didn’t go unnoticed, “It’s the other one.”
“Which one?” Paden asked.
Hagen’s hand ran down his face. He knew exactly what she meant, but he had to curtail his urge to bellow like a banshee.
Simone nodded, crossing her arms. “The other one who was after Sheona. No one knows who he was. You’re probably correct, Brynja.”
Hildi hung her head. “I’m afraid of him.”
Jowell took two steps closer to Hildi, something telling to Hagen.
“He doesn’t frighten me.” Brynja glanced at Hildi. “I’ve seen him before. I put my dagger in his upper leg. So you can all guess what he wants. Or should I say who?”
“Vengeance,” Hagen whispered. “He’s after you, Brynja.”
“I can’t discount that belief, Grant,” Artan said.
Hagen knew who he was going to be after. An ugly bastard with a wound in his leg.
The buffoon was about to gain a few more wounds.