Chapter six
I was well aware this was very near where I had left Siward tied up.
I approached the body with caution, every sense attuned to the forest around us.
The dying light cast long shadows between the trees, perfect cover for whoever had left this grim marker on our path.
I tightened my grip on my sword, the familiar weight of steel offering little comfort as the scent of fresh death reached my nostrils.
Behind me, I heard Katreine’s breath, soft but steady.
I admired her control. Most lasses would be weeping or swooning at such a sight.
“Stay back,” I warned again, though I suspected she wouldn’t heed me.
Then her saddle squeaked, alerting me to her shifting weight just before her feet thudded to the ground as she dismounted.
“Have ye always had such little regard for the instructions meant to keep ye safe?” I tossed over my shoulder.
Her response was a snort, then “Aye, I suppose I have.”
“And how’s that worked out for ye?” I demanded, irritation mounting as I looked down at the body. I’d told her to stay on her horse in case we needed to make a quick escape.
This wasn’t Siward. This man was thin, not bulky like Siward, with reddish-brown hair.
Siward was bald. A suspicion rose in me and crept along my spine, stiffening it and making my fingers grip my sword even tighter as I scanned for danger.
When I saw nothing immediate, I looked at the dead man once more.
He lay face down. His neck twisted at an impossible angle that told me all I needed to know about how he had died.
But if I’d failed to notice that evidence, there was more.
There were boot markings around him that showed a scuffle, and his sword lay nearby.
He’d fought for his life and lost. With my blood rushing through my veins, I crouched beside him and turned him over, my suspicion confirmed.
This was Dugga Johnstone. His eyes were wide open in that final moment of terror, his mouth frozen in a silent scream.
“By all the saints,” I muttered, glancing around once more, now looking for Siward.
He’d clearly gotten untied, or mayhap Dugga had been foolish enough to release him.
My thoughts raced as I studied him again.
A man’s neck wasn’t easily broken this way.
It required the strength and knowledge that Siward possessed.
I had no doubt he would have killed me when we’d crossed paths if I hadn’t been faster.
I clenched my teeth against the urge to bellow my rage.
I should have ended Siward’s life, but I’d never been one to deliver a death blow if there was another way.
A bird cried out overhead, making me tense. I needed to think logically. Siward was after Katreine. He would not have lingered here after being released. He would have headed to the village where I’d found her. He would be coming back this way, no doubt, tracking us. We did not need to linger.
“Who is he?” Katreine’s voice came from just behind me. The lass had approached with the silence of a trained warrior.
“Ye do nae want to see this?” I said, shifting to my knees to block Dugga’s face.
“I’m a healer, James. Death is my constant companion.
” Her voice held a strange, almost ironic note, but I had no time to consider it further.
She knelt beside me, so close that her thigh pressed against mine.
Her delicate, pale fingers splayed over her knees before she reached toward Dugga.
There was no tremble in her hands. This was no fragile woman.
She might be a slip of a lass, but she had a spine of forged steel.
I watched as she placed her fingers against his neck and sat silent for a few breaths.
“Ye knew him,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.
I stiffened. Was it on my face? The curse I’d muttered?
I finally glanced at her, and damned if my chest didn’t tighten at her boniness.
The light slashed across her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and full lips, which looked very kissable.
I reminded myself once more that even if she were agreeable to my advances, it would be a complication I could ill afford.
I needed to think with the head on my shoulders, not my cock, especially since my initial judgment of her had been correct.
She was as sharp-witted as she was beautiful.
That would likely make deceiving her more difficult, and I needed to bring her to the king quickly and painlessly.
She arched her brows, and I knew she was waiting for my answer about Dugga.
“By reputation only,” I finally said, close enough to the truth.
“His name was Dugga Johnstone, and he was a lowlander known for his skill with a blade.” It seemed far better not to mention his skill as a tracker.
I didn’t want to say anything that might alert her that men were hunting her.
Her fingers hovered over the bruising on Dugga’s neck. “’Tis a difficult thing to break a man’s neck this way. It takes great strength.”
I blinked in surprise at how closely her words matched my thoughts from moments earlier.
“Or great rage,” I replied, thinking again of Siward and his twin, a sadistic bastard.
I knew their da had pitted them against each other all their lives.
What sort of man did that make ye? Likely, the kind who would kill to get what he wanted.
A jangle of coins snapped me out of my ruminations and drew my attention to Katreine once more. She held a coin purse. “Whoever did this did nae rob him.”
Siward would not have cared about the coin. “Nay, it would appear the coin was nae the thing that got this man killed.”
She studied me for a long, silent moment, and I had the unsettling feeling that she suspected me. She motioned toward Dugga. “His body is still warm.”
“Aye.” I understood what she was trying to say. “This did nae happen long ago.”
I rose to my feet, scanning the deepening shadows between the trees and along the trail we had ridden down.
Siward could be galloping toward us even now, and if I fell to him in battle, he would take Katreine.
My concern was not only for me but also for her.
Yes, he’d take her to the king for his prize, but I had no doubt he’d use her for pleasure first. The thought of him forcing her made me feel sick.
“We need to leave,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “Now.”
But Katreine remained kneeling, her slender fingers pressing against different parts of Dugga’s neck. “The kill is fresh,” she murmured, seemingly oblivious to my growing anxiety. “I’d wager it happened at midday.”
That was plenty of time for Siward to be already riding hard toward us. I fought the urge to grab her arm and haul her to her feet. I needed her trust and manhandling her would gain me nothing but her ire. Still, every moment we lingered was another moment Siward gained on us.
“Look at his fingernails,” she said, lifting one of Dugga’s limp hands. “He fought back. There’s skin under them.”
I knelt once more and looked. She was right. Tiny scraps of flesh were lodged under Dugga’s nails. He’d managed to claw at his attacker before death claimed him. I’d been so focused on the danger around us that I’d missed it. It seemed Katreine had an eye for such things.
“Did ye think I’d never seen death before?” she asked, clearly reading the surprise on my face. “I’m a healer, James. I’ve seen men, women, and children die in ways that would give even the most hardened warrior nightmares.”
The shadow that passed over her golden eyes made me wonder what horrors she had witnessed as a healer. “How long have ye been a healer?” I asked. She spoke like a woman who had faced death for many years, but she did not look old enough for so much experience.
“Why?” she asked, a sardonic smile curving her lips.
“Did ye think I’d scream and faint like a foolish lass?” she asked, but before I could speak, she added, “I’m afraid I’m a grave disappointment in that regard.”
“Nay,” I said, realizing she hadn’t answered my actual question, but that was fine.
She was proud, and I suppose I’d offended her somehow.
I understood pride more than most and the need for my actions to make me worthy when my birthright did not.
Mayhap she had some of the same feelings, being a Summer Walker.
Many of the wanderers didn’t even know who their parents were, just like me. “Ye’re nae a disappointment at all.”
Our eyes met for a moment, and something that felt like understanding passed between us. Then the crack of a breaking twig snapped my attention back to our surroundings.
“We need to go,” I said again, this time with such urgency that Katreine finally nodded and rose.
“Someone went to great trouble to leave him where he’d be found,” she observed, brushing dirt from her skirts. “This path is hardly traveled.”
She was right. Siward likely wanted to send a message to me or to any of the other trackers who came across Dugga.
“Back to the horses,” I commanded, already moving, my eyes never ceasing their scan of the darkening woods. “We ride hard until we reach the next village.”
“We can nae leave him here like this,” Katreine said, her voice soft yet unyielding. The gathering darkness pooled in her golden eyes as she stared down at Dugga’s twisted corpse. “We can nae leave him for the ravens. He deserves better.”
I fixed her with a hard stare. “Aye, he does, but whoever killed him could return.” My words came out sharper than I’d meant, but fear for her safety had my heart hammering against my ribs.
Katreine crossed her arms over her chest. “’Tis nae verra honorable, nae to do the right thing by this man simply because ye fear for yer safety.”
“I am nae fearful for my safety,” I growled. “I’m fearful for yers. A man who would snap a man’s neck would nae hesitate to ravish a woman.”