Chapter 7 #2
Drunstan's eyes moved briefly to Una, still tucked behind Cormac's shoulder, then back.
"Ye put six of my best men on the ground without breaking a sweat.
I'd rather have one of ye than a dozen of them.
I'll pay ye well. But first" – his gaze sharpened – "tell me how ye came by the lass. And yer name, while ye're at it."
"Cormac," he said. Nothing more.
Drunstan waited, as if expecting a surname, a clan affiliation. Cormac offered neither, and Drunstan seemed to decide that a man who'd just put six of his fighters on the ground had earned the right to be sparing with his details.
Behind him, Una turned the name over quietly in her mind. Cormac. Not Shadow. She was not entirely sure why he would conceal it, but she was wise enough not to interfere.
Cormac gave Drunstan a brief account of the covered cart on the forest road and the two fools who had intended to ransom Lady Fenella for themselves. He made a point of mentioning that they had hurt the lass, gesturing toward her bruises and wrists.
At the repeated use of the name, Una felt the familiar small clutch of anxiety tighten beneath her ribs.
Every time someone said it she heard a clock ticking.
She thought of what would happen if any of these men discovered the truth – that Lady Fenella Lockhart was spending the summer in Edinburgh with her father, entirely unaware that her seamstress had spent the past day being kidnapped in her name.
What would Drunstan do with a woman worth nothing?
And worse – the thought she could not quite bring herself to examine directly – what would Cormac do?
He had stood between her and danger twice now.
He had put six men on the ground to keep her from being taken.
But that protection extended only to Lady Fenella, daughter of a wealthy thane, a woman worth a great deal.
Would it extend to Una Murray, who was worth precisely nothing?
She kept her face composed and her chin level, and concentrated very hard on looking like a woman of rank who found all of this deeply tiresome.
"I never trusted those fools to manage a task that required more than one working brain between them," Drunstan said. He looked at Cormac. "And ye're what – a hired sword who happened across her?"
"Aye. And I'm willing to stay on and see the task through, for the right coin. I'll ensure she does nae receive so much as a scratch."
Drunstan considered him. "I've seen enough to believe ye capable of that. Our patron's instructions were clear on the matter. She arrives unmarked, or the price drops." He turned his gaze to Una. "Lady Fenella. My apologies for the unpleasantness. If ye'll come with my men—"
"She stays with me," Cormac said.
Drunstan stopped.
Una did not move so much as an inch. She stayed exactly where she was, one hand loosely holding the back of Cormac's plaid, and kept her expression composed.
"She's our captive," Drunstan said. "Not yers."
"And she'll be delivered safely," Cormac replied. "Which is more than yer last arrangement managed. I'll guard her myself. Ye might as well let me earn the coin ye're going to pay me."
A long silence. Drunstan's eyes shifted to Una, assessing.
Una held Cormac's plaid a little tighter and did not step forward.
Drunstan raised a brow. Then the corner of his mouth twitched.
"All right," he said. "Ye guard her. But we're all strangers here, and trust is a privilege not yet earned. I'll have two of my men keeping watch over ye both. Ye answer to me if she escapes."
He turned toward the trees. "Camp's just beyond the ridge. Try to keep up."
Cormac fell into step, and Una moved with him. A few paces into the trees, low enough that only she could hear, he said, "Dinnae tell them who I am. It'll go easier on both of us."
Una glanced up at him. His jaw was set, eyes forward.
"Aye," she replied.
She thought, just briefly, that something in the set of his shoulders eased.
***
THE CAMP WAS LARGER than Una had expected. Rough shelters arranged around a central fire, horses picketed at the edges, men moving with ease around the clearing. She noted distances and positions carefully as they walked, filing everything away against the possibility of escape.
Beside her, she was aware of Cormac doing exactly the same.
A bothy appeared at the far edge of the camp, its back wall set against the treeline with the sound of a stream just beyond. Low stone walls, a turf roof, a bucket of clean water outside, a neat stack of peat.
It had been prepared as her accommodation.
Drunstan stopped at the door. "We're nae heathens," he said, addressing Una directly.
"Our patron was clear – ye're to come to no harm, and to have food, water, clothes, and shelter while we wait for the ransom to be arranged.
The stream's directly behind the building.
" He pushed the door open. "Ye'll want for nothing reasonable. "
His eyes moved to Cormac. "Yer man guards the inside. My men guard the outside. We understand one another?"
"Aye," Cormac replied.
Drunstan held his gaze for one beat longer, then walked away.
***