Chapter Twenty-Seven

Alaric could have sworn he'd seen this man before, and recently. It had to be in Skaithmuir. He took a step closer to him.

"English?" Egan looked aghast at Alaric's words. "Nay, but I did fight with Sir James. I'm a Scot, born and bred."

"So why do ye seek Maitland?"

"I wish to travel with his patrol. I live too far north to keep traveling to the Borderlands to fight and earn coin. Once I see Maitland, I'm sure he'll accept me on his patrol. I prefer to fight in the Highlands. I'm happy to sleep with the guards. I'll not be bothering the chieftain's family. Ye have my word on that."

The man had short brown hair and a full beard. Nothing unusual there. His skin carried the color of the sun as if he worked outdoors. But there was something in his eyes that Alaric didn't like.

As long as he stayed outside, far from Eli, he wouldn't bother him. His sudden need to protect her and keep her hidden from this man overpowered him.

The bastard would not touch Eli.

The man took his meat pies, thanked the Camerons, then left the hall. Alaric looked to Eli for confirmation of what he thought.

"Was he familiar to ye?"

She stared after the man for a moment. "I think so."

"English?"

"Nay. I think he was Scottish. I think he was among the guards of Sir James."

"He better be Scottish. I'll find out if he's no'."

Eli moved closer and rested her hand on his forearm. "Alaric, dinnae worry. We need no' worry about that man. He's gone."

"Fine. I'll be fine. I'll chat with Brin." He moved over closer to Ceit and Brin, sitting in a different chair while Eli chatted with Aunt Jennie.

He had to admit that the last conversation he'd had with his aunt had opened his eyes. It was as if a giant weight had lifted off his shoulders. When Aunt Jennie had assured him that he had not been the cause of Uncle Jake's death, Alaric had felt so incredibly grateful that he didn't know what to say.

Jake's death had been caused by his heart giving up, not from a blow that Alaric had delivered. Jennie was right of course—the chance of a twelve-year-old hitting a man with the flat of his sword hard enough to kill him was tiny, even smaller when the man was the son of Alex Grant. The knowledge meant everything to Alaric.

He had not killed his uncle.

Which meant that he probably hadn't hurt Alasdair either. He had to hope that Alasdair did not suffer from the same affliction.

The door opened and Uncle Aedan entered, moving over to sit next to him. "Everything well out there, Uncle?"

The old chieftain thought for a moment, then said, "I cannae say why, but I dinnae trust that man, Egan. Do ye know aught of him? Was he at the battle?"

Alaric rubbed his hands together, something he did to keep himself from grabbing for his weapon, though he did not have it near to hand at the moment. "Both Eli and I believe we recognize him from the battle. Eli is quite confident he was a Scot. I wasn't sure, but I trust her memory. What makes you uneasy?"

"When I left him with the other guards, I made a point of circling back around outside the building to listen to their conversation. I do the same with every stranger who stops here, just to be careful. He was asking about the archers. He was shocked that there were such skilled female archers. He asked who trained them and how many there were. But the comment he made that I truly didnae like was when he mentioned he was looking for a wife and asked if the archers were married or not. Said he saw four of them on the battlefield. Correct?"

"Aye," Alaric answered, trying to remain calm while he settled his thoughts. "Dyna, Eli, Thea, and Wenna. Was he interested in any one archer in particular?"

If Egan had mentioned Eli's name, Alaric was about to beat someone to the size of a hazelnut.

"He wishes to marry a dark-haired lass." Aedan gave him that look that told him all he needed to know.

He bolted out of his chair and headed out the door, calling out behind him, "I'll return in a moment, wife. Please dinnae follow me."

He knew she would anyway, but he hoped not for a few moments. He headed toward the guards' quarters, opened the door and bellowed, "Come on out here, ye scab-faced pustule. Or are ye spineless too?"

The talk amongst the guards fell silent, and the men looked at each other in puzzlement. Then Egan got up and strode forward, his innocent expression becoming a smug, aggressive look as fast as a bolt of lightning.

"Who are ye calling scab-faced?"

"Whoever the bastard is who wants to marry my wife. Is that no' ye?"

"Are ye married to one of the dark-haired lasses? Because I dinnae want that white-haired one. She's too old. And the other one is too wide in the hip. I like my women thin. So I'll take either of the other two. And I'd like to test one out this eve if I may. Which one are ye giving me?" The man had the bollocks to stride right up to him, his face less than a hand's length from Alaric.

And Alaric couldn't resist the temptation of shutting the arrogant bastard up. He put his fist in his face, then lifted him up and tossed him across the floor. "Ye want more, then get up and come back, ye weasel."

He'd heard a decisive crack when his fist had connected with the man's nose, so he wasn't surprised to see blood pouring out.

The fool held his hand up and said, "I'll no' be bothering them. Ye go on yer way. I'll wait here for Menzie."

He had no doubt that he would wait for Maitland, but first he had to speak with Uncle Aedan and advise him of exactly what the man had said. He could go after Wenna, after all, and he didn't think Tevis would approve.

The door opened and Eli stepped inside. He glanced over his shoulder, but waited to make sure Egan was not going to try a move toward her before he went to her.

"Stay the hell away," he snarled.

He turned around and set his hand on Eli's waist, though he wished to hug her tight to let the fool know who she belonged to and who she preferred. But he knew she would be confused, so he led her outside before speaking to her.

Brin was just outside the door, about to come in. "Everything well?"

Alaric rubbed his skinned knuckles. "All is well now. The fool thought he could marry one of our archers. One of the dark-haired ones."

Eli's head snapped toward him at his words, and he ran his hand through her dark, silky strands. "I let him know ye werenae available. He's convinced."

He glanced over his shoulder as the door opened and Egan stepped outside, still trying to stop the blood from pouring out of his nose.

He glared at Alaric, who stepped in front of Eli. "Dinnae even look at her."

Egan looked at Alaric, pointed his finger, and said, "This is not over."

"Aye, it is. Leave now." Alaric was confident Aedan would agree with him, and he hoped Brin would back him up as well.

Brin nodded. "Take yer horse and get off Cameron land. I'll have ye escorted."

Egan left, but not without glancing back one more time at Eli.

The bastard winked at her.

Alaric would have followed the fool, just to make sure he was truly leaving, but Brin said, "Let him go."

Eli squeezed his hand and said, "Please leave him for now. Ye let him know how ye feel already. I can tell by yer bloody knuckles."

Somehow, Alaric knew he'd be seeing Egan again.