A sound from outside caught his attention. Callum reluctantly got out of bed, listening to the sounds of night. In the corner, he saw Bram sleeping and he wondered why his brother had allowed him to sleep with Marguerite. Silently, he moved to open the shuttered window. In the darkness, he spied faint pinpricks of light moving towards them. He didn’t know what it was, but within seconds the light vanished. Instinct warned him that whatever the source of the light was, he had to warn his brother.
Before he could say a word, he heard Marguerite moan in her sleep. She clenched the sheets, murmuring words in French that he didn’t understand. And when he tried to awaken her by touching her cheek, her eyes flew open.
She sat up and gripped him hard, still shaking from the nightmare. Callum held her tight, stroking her hair to soothe her.
It’s all right. I’m here.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I was dreaming about the tower and the fire that night. I dreamed I couldn’t get out.’ Her face rested against his neck and he kissed her hair, moving his mouth lower to console her in the only way he knew how.
She drew back, closing her eyes and lifting her mouth to his. Before he could taste her lips, the door swung open and Alex entered. His brother’s face darkened with misunderstanding, as if he thought Callum was trying to dishonour Marguerite.
‘Get away from her, Callum,’ Alex warned.
At the sudden sound, Bram woke up from his place on the floor and stood. ‘Leave them,’ he said, stretching. ‘She calms him.’
‘Did he hurt you?’ Alex asked Lady Marguerite. She shook her head, her face turning dark red.
‘I should go,’ she murmured. ‘I never meant to fall asleep.’ Embarrassed, she fled the room.
Callum stared at his brothers, needing to tell them what he’d seen. He pointed toward the window, trying to signal to them, but they didn’t understand.
He saw in their eyes that they believed he’d gone mad, as if he weren’t aware of what was going on.
‘Did he sleep at all last night?’ Alex asked Bram.
‘He kept waking up, but Marguerite stopped him from lashing out.’
‘We should keep her close, then, if she’s able to get through to him.’
Callum’s temper exploded. He moved between the men, grabbing each of his brothers by the shoulder.
Look at me. I hear your words. I understand them.
But not a single sound came, despite his mouth moving. Frustration clawed at him that he was unable to communicate anything at all.
He grabbed Bram’s tunic and hauled him towards the window, pointing outside once again.
‘There’s nothing out there,’ Bram said. ‘You’re safe now.’
He didn’t believe it. And they were fools if they did.
Alex poured a cup of wine into a goblet and handed it to him. ‘Have something to drink. Whatever it is, we’ll look in the morning.’
He drank the wine and, too late, tasted the bitter herbs within it. Staring at his brother’s betrayal, he wondered what they’d done to him.
‘It will help you sleep,’ Alex said. ‘You need rest, to regain your strength.’
Despite his efforts to fight them, the heavy narcotic effects of the herbs pulled him under. As he slipped into the dark dream, he inhaled the scent of Marguerite upon the sheets.
Callum awakened with his mouth dry and the aftertaste of the herbal brew lingered. His back still hurt from the lash marks, and he struggled to open his eyes. He overheard Bram’s wife Nairna talking to her husband and caught the last few words of his brother’s conversation.
‘I don’t know if he’s even aware of where he is.’
Callum gritted his teeth. He knew exactly where he was, yet no one trusted him. He struggled to rise from the bed, thankful that Alex and Bram were focused upon Nairna instead of himself.
‘When I was out walking this morning, I saw a torch light in the hills,’ the young woman said. ‘Do you think any of Lord Harkirk’s men might have followed us?’
No doubt of it. From the flickering torches he’d seen, it was impossible to tell how many men there were.
‘I’ll inform the men,’ Alex replied. ‘If it is an attack, send a runner to Locharr and alert the Baron that we may need his help.’ He turned to Nairna. ‘Tell Laren—’
‘She’s already gathering the women and children.’
‘Good.’ Alex turned back and Callum met his gaze steadily. His brother’s face held a magnitude of worry for all the people they had to protect. There weren’t enough men and if they were invaded, many would die.
In an instant, his older brother assessed him, as if to decide whether or not he was dangerous. Callum stared back, meeting the silent question with a determined look of his own. He had no doubt of his ability to defend them, especially with a bow.
‘I’ll need your help guarding the women and children,’ Alex said at last, unsheathing his sword. ‘Even Lady Marguerite.’ He held out the weapon, hilt first, and Callum inclined his head in answer.
Though he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, he managed to grasp the sword. Alex had offered him the chance to fight and he wouldn’t fail his brother, though a sword wasn’t his first choice. From the corner of his eye, he caught Bram’s wife Nairna eyeing him with uncertainty.
I can fight, he wanted to tell her. Especially if it meant protecting Marguerite. Upon the floor, he spied the faded blue ribbon and reached for it, tucking it away for safekeeping.
Callum followed them down the stairs, still feeling the effects of the potion from the night before. He settled his mind to the task ahead, though he didn’t know if it was a small raid or a larger force.
Nairna led them outside to the place where she’d seen the torches. Though it was now dawn, the faint light wasn’t enough to determine how many men threatened Glen Arrin. While his brothers and Nairna climbed up to the top of the gatehouse, Callum stayed below, beside the gate. He studied the opposite side, wondering what had happened to the lights on the far end of the fortress.
Then the sun gleamed over the hills, revealing the glint of chainmail armour. They were outnumbered, perhaps three to one. Callum didn’t doubt that both Cairnross and Harkirk were allied in this attack.
The only question was how many of his clan would survive it.
Marguerite followed Laren to warn the rest of the clan. The chief’s wife looked terrified, but she explained what was happening. One by one, they gathered the women and children, leading them back to the tower.
‘We’ll bring them underground,’ Laren explained. ‘We’ve taken shelter there before.’
Marguerite picked up Laren’s youngest daughter Adaira and started towards the keep. When she glanced behind to be sure that no women or children were left, she saw Callum approaching.
He walked slowly. In his eyes, she saw the grim look of a man who was about to fight. Seeing his ruthless determination made her heartbeat quicken, for he wouldn’t hesitate to shed enemy blood to protect them. Marguerite set the child down, then hung back from the others, waiting for him.
Callum stopped walking a moment, his eyes passing over her. From the top of her veil, over her face and down her body, it was as if he needed to assure himself that she was all right.
‘Did you sleep at all?’ she asked, feeling self-conscious from the look in his eyes. He gave a slight nod, then sent her a questioning look as if to ask the same.
She