Chapter 12

DUNVEGAN CASTLE - OCTOBER 30, 1384

S treaks of green and pink from the aurora lit up the darkened night as Moira trudged out of the wood. After hours of tramping through the forests, around hills, and over burns of water, she'd finally made it. Relief filled her as she spotted Dunvegan Castle standing menacing watch over its deep sea loch. Saying a prayer that Iain MacLeod was in residence and not training in Lochbuie, or on a mission elsewhere in the Isles, she picked up her wearied pace and made for the keep.

"Hold there! State your name and your business at Dunvegan."

Moira froze only six paces outside the forest, and slowly turned. A young guard, not more than twenty years old with a smattering of pimples on his face, held her at the end of a trembling spear. Tired, thirsty, hungry, and annoyed, she put her hand to her throat.

"State your name." The lad pointed his wavering spear at her gut.

Not again. Having spent all day on her feet, she was in no mood to lead the man on a foot chase as she had at Moy. She stepped forward into a patch of moonlight with her hands raised and pointed to her throat.

"I said state your name."

She breathed out and tried but could barely make a sound .

The man screwed his face up. "Speak up."

Like a breath passing over gravel, her name was lost in the sound of the rasp that issued from her throat as she struggled to say her name.

"Have you lost your voice?"

Thank God, he has it. She nodded.

"Who are you here to see?"

Making slow, big motions she tried to get him to understand her sign for chief.

"Fingers? Five fingers?"

She held her fist up high and tried again.

"Punch?"

No. He wasn't getting it. She shook her hands out.

"Wet? Wet hands."

Trying not to feel irritated, she waved her hands trying to tell him to stop guessing.

"Crash? Scrub?"

She put her face in her hands.

" Headache? You need a healer?"

"Birdy?" The sound of a familiar, unrefined brogue caused both her and the guard to startle.

Calum rushed toward her, pulling her into an embrace. "Saints, Birdy. We thought you might be dead. Wait until the team hears. This is the best news we've had in months."

Relief spilled over her as he placed her down, and she excitedly made her sign for Lightning, grateful to be with her friend and not stuck in Dun Ringill.

"Yes, Lightning—Calum."

The young guard, spear still held aloft, looked between her and Calum. "You know this woman?"

"Yes. Put your spear away, Anndra, before you hurt someone."

Looking shaken, Anndra lowered the quivering spear. "I'm sorry, Commander MacLean, she came through the woods and I told her to state her name and she wouldn't respond."

Calum rolled his eyes. "That's because she can't respond. She's mute." He signed to her. Come. Sea. Near. Loch.

Heart bursting, she signed back. Very good! You've been practicing .

Calum nodded. We. Practice. Every day. Beithir. Best. At. Signs . Almost. Good. As. C-A-R-A.

Anndra followed them as they walked to the Loch. "Are you communicating?"

Calum signed as he spoke. "Yes. She speaks in signs. I started learning a few months ago."

"Why?"

A flicker went over his fair features and he winked at her. "Because she's a trusted friend of someone I know, and I wanted to learn. Don't you have a perimeter to walk?"

No doubt worried about a bad report to the chief, Anndra hurried back to the edge of the wood, spear now held confidently before him.

When he was out of earshot, Calum frantically signed and spoke at the same time. "We heard from Mowbray that Niall had taken you from the prison as leman. How on earth did you get away from Dun Ringill?"

She made a circle with her hands and mouthed tunnel.

Calum repeated her sign. "Tunnel?"

She nodded, signing as slow as she could. Yes. I was down in the auld dungeon. Felt a breeze. Looked around. Found an opening in the wall. An old water gate. A tunnel to the outside.

Emerging into the brighter moonlight in front of Dunvegan, Moira noticed the hustle and bustle of a large merchant vessel being loaded. What's that?

"A supply ship?—"

"BIRDY?" From the end of the dock, dressed in black, Iain stared at her, dumbfounded, then shook his head hollering at the top of his lungs. "Birdy!"

SEA!

Iain ran down the dock and scooped her into his arms, spinning her around. "This cannae be real, Birdy. How're you here?"

Calum signed the answer. Tunnel.

Iain repeated the motion. "Tunnel? At Dun Ringill?"

Yes. Down off the auld dungeon. I found it this morning.

Iain breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. We'll need tae get ye doon to Lochbuie. Hector and Cara will look after ye, it's noo safe for ye on Skye. "

No.

Iain made a face and signed back. What do you mean, no?

Slipping off her shoe, she removed the battered scrap of paper and handed it to Iain. He read it, a spark of anger igniting across his face. "These are plans to attack Duart."

Calum snatched the paper with his tattooed fingers and read it. "Where did you get this?"

Niall MacKinnon's solar. I don't believe he realizes that the newest chambermaid can read.

Iain looked confused. "I tho' he took ye for leman? Is tha' par' of it?" Calum punched him in the shoulder. "Wha? I dinnae ken."

Laird Mackinnon tried to—harm me—the first night I was there but I kept attacking him.

Iain smiled and crossed his arms. "Guid for ye."

Calum gave a punctuated nod. "So instead Niall made you a chambermaid?"

M-A-L-V-I-N-A.

Iain sucked in breath through his pursed lips and winced. "Tha' wooman's meaner'n a wee yappy dug. Looks like wan too."

I'll say. She almost beat me to death with a hand mirror for not cleaning it proper.

Calum grimaced. "Your not going back there, Birdy. That's for certain."

I have to.

Both Calum and Iain spoke at once. "No, ye don't."

How else would you know about the Duart attack? Beithir's brother and family are in danger. We need this kind of information to stop the Wolf. We need someone inside who can send word to you about when and where they are going.

Iain passed a hand over his boyish face. "She's right."

Calum looked unconvinced. "You've been gone all day, how will you explain where you've been without Niall hurting you or locking you away?"

I'm not sure. But don't worry about me. I'm smart. I have a way in and out. If there is danger, I'll flee here.

Iain threw his hands up in defeat. "Ye really want tae do this? "

I am doing it. Just help me. Sea, I need you to sail me back to Elgol. I'll walk back from there. Right away, before I lose more time.

Iain shook his head and signed quickly, looking her square in the eye. I don't like this. At all. Niall MacKinnon is an evil man. Do you really think you can outsmart him? And M-A-L-V-I-N-A is as evil as E-L-S-P-E-T-H. Except she doesn't bother hiding it. If something happens to you I'll never forgive myself. Go to Lochbuie. You're too valuable to us.

When Iain spoke, his thick Isles brogue sometimes made her believe he was an uneducated, simple man. Yet he had picked up her language in only a few weeks. Signing gave her a window into his thoughts, more complex than she imagined. Surprised by the depth of feeling behind his words, she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

I have to do this. God has made a way for me. For our islands. For our clan. For our team. For…Lion.

Calum made a loud scoff. "We can drop her off on the way to Mull with the information. Hector's in Mishnish training Mowbray's team this week."

Birdy tugged on Calum's tunic, heart pounding, and asked the question she'd been longing to know the answer to for two long months. How is Lion?

"Recovering. That's what you caught us doing—packing. We're the new supplier of food for Cràdh Prison. We learned which merchant was the supplier and Iain scuttled his ship. The merchant is having a good long think in Dublin right about now."

Is he all right?

Calum gave a laddish grin. "Annoyed and unable to speak Irish, but safe enough. Hector bought this ship. Looks just like the auld merchant vessel except it's equipped to handle twice the food and supplies. Iain taught me how to sail it with a small group of our guard, and now I'm the new merchant."

Bubbles of frustration rippled to the surface of her mood as she waited for them to give her more information about Léo. But how is Lion?

Calum gave her a knowing look, and she blushed. "Up to his eyeballs in smoked salmon, barley, eggs, pork, and beef, and eating around the clock to try and get his weight up. Mowbray says that he has regained some of his fire too."

Calum switched to signs and stopped talking. Organize. A-T-T-A-C-K.

Iain pushed him out of the way. "Le' may do it."

He's ready to be chief. Something lit the fire the night your father died. He is getting strong, Birdy.

Her heart caught in her throat. I don't want him to take any foolish risks.

Iain tugged on the end of one of her curls and made a half smile. Don't worry . Beithir and Lion are the most highly skilled warriors of us all. They have a plan. We just need time for Lion to get stronger. Your information will help us know when the time is right to attack.

Moira realized her fingers were winding in Léo's necklace, its heavy weight carrying his warmth and solidness. She would give him everything that was in her power to give.