Chapter Seven

H endry rode away from the village to search the nearby woods. No one had seen Kyle, and the search was beginning to frustrate him. It was impossible that the man could have gone so far as to not be caught. In his haste to leave the fishing village, he’d left all of his belongings, taking another man’s horse and perhaps a blanket.

The man’s small boat remained at the shoreline, and no one reported theirs or even Fitz’s boat missing.

As annoyed as he was, Hendry was determined to find the man even if it meant staying out for days. He was used to surviving off the land and foraging for food. Not that he would have to go very far before being able to find a meal. The clan’s people would not hesitate to feed one of the laird’s guardsmen.

A small cottage came into view and noticing nothing askew he approached it. Beside the cottage was a neat garden where a woman tilled the soil. So intent on her task, she didn’t see him until he was almost upon her.

Her dog must have made a sound because she straightened and at seeing him her eyes narrowed; then she continued to work, not paying him any heed. Unlike her, the large black dog—who was her steady companion—stood and growled. The deep sound menacing.

Hendry dismounted and remained by his horse whilst eyeing the dog.

“What do ye want?” Ailith Shaw brushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her face with the back of her hand.

When the dog growled again, she shushed him in a low whisper, “Hush, Teller.” The dog kept his steady gaze on Hendry.

“Ye should be with care. There is a man in hiding who killed a man at the fishing village.”

She put her hoe down and walked out of the fenced in area, her dog steadily beside her. “What happened?”

As the woman neared, Hendry couldn’t help noticing the sway of her ample hips and her graceful strides. She had large hazel eyes that contrasted with her tan skin and deep brown hair. Her mouth was just a bit big for her face, but somehow it complemented her features, making her more alluring.

They’d never been on friendly terms, mainly because her now-deceased husband and Hendry had not gotten along.

Both were guards in service to the laird, and her husband had been killed in battle against the Mackinnons, a rival clan that Clan Ross had overcome. Unfortunately there were a few deaths on both sides, which included Ailith’s husband Brant. Since Hendry and Brant had not gotten along, somehow, she placed the blame on him.

He’d not been in the same area, but that mattered little to the distraught widow. He understood. It was a way to help with the pain; to place blame on someone.

“A fisherman called Fritz was stabbed to death. The man suspected of killing him, Kyle, has gone into hiding. We think he remains on the isle.”

Ailith looked around, her face etched with worry. “Do ye think he is near here?”

The urge to both protect her and soothe her mind overtook Hendry. Admittedly, one of the reasons he’d never gotten along with Brant was because of Ailith. He’d planned to court her and had told the man. Then when Hendry had been sent away to the Isle of Uist, Brant had gone after Ailith. Hendry always suspected it was only to best him and not because the other warrior actually was in love with Ailith that he’d courted her.

When Ailith huffed impatiently getting his attention, Hendry met her gaze. “I dinnae ken where he is. I am tracking him, and it looks as if he may have headed in this direction.”

With a shrug as if unconcerned, she reached for her dog’s head and patted it. “Teller will keep me safe.”

His look of doubt must have been evident because Ailith lifted a brow and pulled a dagger from the folds of her skirt. “I also have this and my wits.”

“Yer wits are sharper than that blade,” Hendry said with a grin. “The words ye have thrown at me in the past have cut quite deeply.”

When she looked up to the sky and back to him, she seemed to relax some. “It is in the past. Although I will admit that I dinnae care for ye Hendry, in the least.”

“I am more than aware, Ailith,” he replied. “It will nae deter me from protecting ye and ensuring ye are nae harmed.”

For a moment he thought she was going to rebut with an unkind comment, but instead she huffed out a breath. “Thank ye for informing me.” She turned back toward the garden without a backward glance.

Hendry considered lingering and asking for water, just to remain there a few moments longer. However, he’d been summarily dismissed and when she began working again without looking back up, he decided it was best to leave well enough alone. He would circle the area to ensure Kyle was nowhere near there and then continue his search for the fleeing man.

“I will search the area,” he called out to the woman who continued to ignore him.

They had been given a choice: stay within the safety of the keep or return home under the watchful eye of two guards. Given that Sencha had been attacked by Kyle, the council feared he might seek her out again. Though she doubted it—convinced the man had no clue who she truly was. However, her mother’s fear had been another matter entirely. To ease her mother’s anxiety, Sencha had reluctantly agreed to remain at the keep until Kyle was found and captured.

Her mother, pale and visibly shaken, had gone upstairs to rest in the room they shared, leaving Sencha to her own thoughts. She meandered to the back of the main house in search of fresh air and peace. A kind servant with a knowing smile, neared. “Come I will show ye a place away from prying eyes.”

The young woman led Sencha through a rear door of the keep’s main hall. Beyond it lay a small, secluded garden tucked against the stone walls, just out of sight from the bustling courtyard. A perfect place where she could escape the pitying glances and hushed whispers of those who noticed her bruised face and the swelling along her jaw.

The garden was a haven, quiet and sunlit. Birds flitted through the branches of nearby trees, their cheerful songs weaving through the soft rustle of leaves. Sencha tipped her face to the rare warmth of the autumn sun, letting its golden rays chase away the lingering chill in her bones. It was a rare gift for so late in the season, and she intended to savor it.

Thankfully, the worst of the pain had faded. She no longer needed to press cold cloths to her eye, and her jaw only ached when she attempted to chew. Soups would become her staple for the next few days. She’d go to the kitchen and prepare them herself, if only to feel some measure of control in the midst of so much chaos.

But peace was fleeting. As the quiet wrapped around her, her mind replayed the events of her captivity. The dark hut. The overwhelming silence broken only by the sound of her own shallow breathing. Kyle had left her there, alone and in agony, for what felt like an eternity. When he finally returned, it was as if madness clung to him like a shadow. He had paced the confines of the small space, his movements erratic, his muttering unintelligible. And then, to her horror, he had struck himself. Fists pounding against his head as if to exorcise some unseen demon.

Sencha closed her eyes, shuddering at the memory. She needed time to think, to piece together the fragments of what had happened. Kyle had offered no hints as to where he had been or what he had planned. All she had were fleeting images, moments of his erratic behavior, and the quiet dread that settled in her chest whenever she thought of him.

The sunlight couldn’t banish all shadows, but here in the garden, surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of life, she could breathe—just for a little while.

Once again the scene inside the fishing hut returned. While the man repeated words like, he’s dead and unfair , he’d begun packing a small sack with a rolled blanket and a few meager possessions, including a knife.

When he’d looked in her direction, Sencha closed her eyes hoping he thought her still unconscious. Fear like she’d never known had made her shiver and tears stream down her face. Thankfully the man must have heard or seen Knox because he’d not hurt her further. Instead, he’d gagged her and gone out.

A familiar figure appeared just across from where she was. Sencha lowered to a bench and peered over the wall to see what he did. It was Knox and he stood surrounded by several men, probably his archers.

Surprising that he was out and about. Surely the healer had not allowed it.

The sound of their deep voices intermingled with the birdsong and the rustling of wind through the leaves making it hard to hear exactly what they spoke of.

Knox seemed to be giving directions because he pointed toward the front of the house and the rear. From what she knew, his team was made mostly of archers. At the moment all but two of the gathered men had bows strapped across their backs.

The men separated into three groups each heading in the direction Knox had ordered. He turned as if hearing his name being called and Sencha almost stood to wave him over. She needed to ken the progress of the search for the man who’d attacked them.

However, she stilled at seeing the woman from the village called Anni hurrying toward him. The flirty village woman had been lingering about the keep for a pair of days. Surely she had chores to tend to. And why weren’t her parents sending for her?

Sencha pressed her teeth together watching as the woman neared Knox and began talking. The high octave of Anni’s voice meant Sencha could hear her clearly.

“The healer will be most cross. Ye need to be abed.”

When Knox replied, Sencha could not hear him as clearly. She let out an annoyed huff, not just for her inability to hear, but because she wasn’t sure what urged her to be spying on them in the first place.

“We should go inside so ye can rest,” Anni said and lifted to her toes leaning forward as if to kiss Knox. He took her by the shoulders stopping her. Again he said something Sencha couldn’t hear.

The village girl laughed. A tinny sound that was not at all humorous. It was apparent she’d not appreciated the rebuff. The woman lingered for a moment before reluctantly turning and walking away.

Knox turned toward the house and Sencha shifted away hoping he’d not noticed her then chided herself. He was an archer with the keen vision of a bird of prey. If she was visible in any way, he would see her.

And he must have because moments later, he entered the garden.

Sencha lowered her head allowing her hair to fall forward. She’d finally looked in a mirror and had winced at seeing herself. Her eye was no longer swollen shut, but a blueish bruise surrounded it. Another large bruise covered the bottom half of the left side of her face. In addition, there was a cut on her chin that had happened either when the man had struck her or when she’d fought to escape.

Knox lowered to the bench and sat next to her. They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds were those of the birds and the voices that the wind carried from the courtyard.

“I wish I could go out with the men to search for the man who hurt ye.” Knox’s voice remained hoarse, but he spoke louder than he had that morning.

“He hurt ye as well,” she said before peeking sideways at him through her hair. “The sun will be setting soon. Since warriors have nae returned with him, he must have evaded being caught.”

“Aye.”

Letting out a long breath, Sencha fought not to ask him about Anni but failed miserably. “Anni is pretty.” Sencha wanted to flinch at the comment.

“She is,” Knox replied.

“Are ye planning to court her?” Why couldn’t she keep from asking? Apparently the hit on her head had impeded her ability to control her tongue and keep her from making a fool out of herself.

When he nudged her with his shoulder, Sencha turned to him. “Lift yer face up. I have never known ye to be one who cowers or hides.”

“I am nae hiding,” Sencha snapped.

“Ye are. I saw yer face when it was worse. Ye are recovering quickly.”

He’d not answered her question and Sencha bit her tongue to keep from stating it out loud. Instead she glanced at him. “Does yer head still hurt?”

His broad shoulders lifted and lowered. “A bit, aye. The only reason I dinnae go out there is because I dinnae wish to hinder the search by not keeping up.”

“It is commendable that ye recognize it and nae allow pride to take over,” Sencha said.

Once again they fell into a companionable silence and Sencha was content to remain there, next to the strong archer. She wondered if he could tell her feelings for him had changed. It was doubtful, she’d done her best to keep them hidden.

“Ye are a brave and loyal woman.” Knox’s words shook her from her contemplation.

“I am nae brave. It was stupid of me to have gone to the fishing village without asking for an escort.”

Once again he nudged her shoulder with his. The gesture was becoming his way of acknowledging her, it seemed. “I ken bravery when I see it. Not only did ye confront the man, but ye risked yer life to save mine.”

A feeling of pride filled her at his words, and she lifted a shoulder and lowered it. “I could nae very well leave ye there to burn to a crisp, could I?”

“Ye could have. I wasn’t an easy burden for ye I am sure.”

“Very true, it felt as if I was dragging a bag of boulders. The poor lad did his best to help, but I had to do most of the work.”

Knox frowned. “Once I recover, ye and I will go find the lad so I can reward him.”

This time when they were silent again, Sencha felt awkward and stood. “I best go see about my mother.”

Standing, Knox stretched both arms over his head and blew out a long breath. “I best go find the healer.”

“Do as he says,” Sencha told him.

When she turned, Knox took her arm stopping her, and when Sencha looked up to ask why, he kissed her. The kiss was soft and at the same time almost as if he were claiming her. Not daring to move, she remained still as he turned his head sideways and moved his lips over hers. Sencha wanted to grab his shoulders and pull him closer. But somehow she was strong enough to resist.

Lifted up just far enough to look into her eyes, he spoke. “There is only one lass I am considering courting for marriage, and it is nae Anni.”

Sencha could feel her eyes widen at the slight tightness on her left side. Recalling her injuries and stepped back and ensured a bland expression. “Hmm, well I have heard said that most women would fall at yer feet.”

“Would ye?” he teased.

“Absolutely not.” With that, she turned on her heel and hurried away. She wasn’t sure, but she thought to have heard him chuckle.