everything.”
In horrifying detail, Linet absorbed Seathan’s account of his friend Dauid’s betrayal, of witnessing his men’s slaughter, and the torture served to him by her brother. Sickened, she turned away, leaned against a nearby elm, and closed her eyes. ’Twould seem when it came to ensuring that Fulke gained King Edward’s praise, her brother spared no one.
She understood the lure of power, of wanting possessions, which caused many a man to make poor decisions. But to hurt others, torture a man until his body was broken, or he died from the cruelty, that she would never understand.
Or accept.
A soft hand touched her shoulder. She turned to find Duncan standing there, his eyes concerned, but like his older brother, watchful.
“I am sorry,” he said. “A lady should not have heard such.”
“Shielding my ears from brutal truths changes naught. Seathan suffered much from a noble who sees your brother as no more than a trophy to bestow upon King Edward to earn his praise.” At his surprised expression, Linet stilled. She was revealing too much. The last thing she needed was to expose her detailed knowledge of Fulke. “Forgive me, I am upset at the brutality served to your brother.”
“Do not apologize. Too often wartime delivers an abundance of grief and pain. Even to those who are victorious.” Duncan fisted his hand, then slowly un-curled his fingers. “It is rarer to find those caught in the fray who choose to not only care, but to take risks to right a wrong.”
“I but set a man free. Give not my actions valor. ’Tis what most would do.”
“Nay, most would not dare act against their lord’s wishes and set a valuable prisoner free.”
Guilt gnawed at her. Like Seathan, Duncan seemed a man of passion, a man guided by his morals and sharp of wit. ’Twas but his delivery that was more refined.
“I am tired of the killing, of the senseless death.” She shook her head. “I wish the fighting were over.”
“As do I,” Duncan agreed. “But until we chase Longshanks from our soil, we will continue our fight to secure Scotland’s freedom, with our every last drop of blood if necessary.”
Longshanks—the name given to King Edward because of his extraordinary height. “You will win.”
Fierce pride sparked in Duncan’s eyes. “Aye, we will.”
Of that she had no doubt. After meeting Seathan and his brothers, men who fought for the people they loved with their very soul, confidence filled her. They would overcome the English king’s tyranny and reclaim their country. Unlike King Edward and others like Fulke, men who were driven by greed, the brothers fought for love.
“Duncan,” Alexander called.
“A moment,” Duncan replied without turning toward his brother, his green eyes too watchful, seeing more than she would like.
“Go tend to your brother,” Linet said. “I am fine.”
He hesitated a moment longer. “You are sure?”
She nodded. She was fine, but not in the way she’d once believed. Time would heal her wounds while she crafted a new life in the Highlands, but the bond of family she’d once held, of trusting those she loved, was forever lost.
Clear skies framed a vivid display of stars cradled above the treetops, the full moon exposing the forest within its silvery light. A soft breeze thick with the scent of earth and night rustled through the leaves overhead. Seathan stared at the heavenly expanse a moment longer, then shifted, careful to keep pressure off his injury.
“You are awake?” Alexander said, his voice low.
“Aye.” Seathan glanced toward Linet opposite him. Wrapped in a blanket provided by his brothers, her head cushioned on a bed of leaves, she lay sleeping, her face caressed by moonlight. He lingered over the curve of her mouth, the soft breaths slipping from her lips to cast a strand of hair about. An ache swept through him. He missed her curled against him, the sense of rightness at having her by his side.
“She is a
In horrifying detail, Linet absorbed Seathan’s account of his friend Dauid’s betrayal, of witnessing his men’s slaughter, and the torture served to him by her brother. Sickened, she turned away, leaned against a nearby elm, and closed her eyes. ’Twould seem when it came to ensuring that Fulke gained King Edward’s praise, her brother spared no one.
She understood the lure of power, of wanting possessions, which caused many a man to make poor decisions. But to hurt others, torture a man until his body was broken, or he died from the cruelty, that she would never understand.
Or accept.
A soft hand touched her shoulder. She turned to find Duncan standing there, his eyes concerned, but like his older brother, watchful.
“I am sorry,” he said. “A lady should not have heard such.”
“Shielding my ears from brutal truths changes naught. Seathan suffered much from a noble who sees your brother as no more than a trophy to bestow upon King Edward to earn his praise.” At his surprised expression, Linet stilled. She was revealing too much. The last thing she needed was to expose her detailed knowledge of Fulke. “Forgive me, I am upset at the brutality served to your brother.”
“Do not apologize. Too often wartime delivers an abundance of grief and pain. Even to those who are victorious.” Duncan fisted his hand, then slowly un-curled his fingers. “It is rarer to find those caught in the fray who choose to not only care, but to take risks to right a wrong.”
“I but set a man free. Give not my actions valor. ’Tis what most would do.”
“Nay, most would not dare act against their lord’s wishes and set a valuable prisoner free.”
Guilt gnawed at her. Like Seathan, Duncan seemed a man of passion, a man guided by his morals and sharp of wit. ’Twas but his delivery that was more refined.
“I am tired of the killing, of the senseless death.” She shook her head. “I wish the fighting were over.”
“As do I,” Duncan agreed. “But until we chase Longshanks from our soil, we will continue our fight to secure Scotland’s freedom, with our every last drop of blood if necessary.”
Longshanks—the name given to King Edward because of his extraordinary height. “You will win.”
Fierce pride sparked in Duncan’s eyes. “Aye, we will.”
Of that she had no doubt. After meeting Seathan and his brothers, men who fought for the people they loved with their very soul, confidence filled her. They would overcome the English king’s tyranny and reclaim their country. Unlike King Edward and others like Fulke, men who were driven by greed, the brothers fought for love.
“Duncan,” Alexander called.
“A moment,” Duncan replied without turning toward his brother, his green eyes too watchful, seeing more than she would like.
“Go tend to your brother,” Linet said. “I am fine.”
He hesitated a moment longer. “You are sure?”
She nodded. She was fine, but not in the way she’d once believed. Time would heal her wounds while she crafted a new life in the Highlands, but the bond of family she’d once held, of trusting those she loved, was forever lost.
Clear skies framed a vivid display of stars cradled above the treetops, the full moon exposing the forest within its silvery light. A soft breeze thick with the scent of earth and night rustled through the leaves overhead. Seathan stared at the heavenly expanse a moment longer, then shifted, careful to keep pressure off his injury.
“You are awake?” Alexander said, his voice low.
“Aye.” Seathan glanced toward Linet opposite him. Wrapped in a blanket provided by his brothers, her head cushioned on a bed of leaves, she lay sleeping, her face caressed by moonlight. He lingered over the curve of her mouth, the soft breaths slipping from her lips to cast a strand of hair about. An ache swept through him. He missed her curled against him, the sense of rightness at having her by his side.
“She is a
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