"Don't worry over me. I'm a big lad now. I can take care of myself." He placed his hand upon Aiden's bony shoulder and guided him toward the fire-pit. The roasted rabbits appeared to be almost done. "Come. Let's break our fast. We have a mission at gloaming."

"What mission?"

Haldane smiled. "You're going to get us into Dunnakeil."

Chapter Ten

"Glad I found you," Torrin told Jessie in an upstairs corridor. "We've looked for Aiden in the stables, the smithy, all the outbuildings and the kirk. No sign of him. The search party is ready to head out."

"I've searched the entire castle for him again, all the places he practices his music," she said, her throat tightening at the thought her wee brother could already be hurt or dead. "'Twas clear to me last night he wanted to talk to Haldane. They've been close their whole lives, and Aiden naively believes his brother wouldn't hurt him. And it could be that he fears Haldane will be killed before he can see him or talk to him again."

Torrin nodded. "I can understand that. I wish I could've talked to Nolan again one last time. It hurts to lose a brother to a life of crime."

"Indeed, it does."

He took her hand and kissed the back. "Don't you worry. We'll find Aiden."

"I'm going with you." Jessie said.

"Nay." Torrin frowned. "If you go, I'll have to protect you instead of searching for Aiden or fighting Haldane."

He was right. Though she knew how to use a dirk, she wasn't a warrior, and she would only be a liability. "Very well. I thank you for putting your own life in danger to help Aiden."

"If what Haldane said is true, I no longer have a little brother. If I can help save the life of yours, I'll be glad."

Tears stung her eyes. "You're very generous."

He shook his head. "Just doing what is right." After glancing behind himself, Torrin stepped closer, slipped his fingers around her nape, beneath her hair, and kissed her lips. 'Twas a fierce, passionate kiss, but over too quickly.

He stepped back. "We'll return soon."

A bit unsteady on her feet, she braced against the wall and noticed a man's loud voice yelling MacLeod from the great hall.

"Have a care," she said.

"I intend to." He gave a lighthearted smile, stroked his fingers along her cheek and kissed her forehead. Then he disappeared down the steps.

She ran further along the corridor and watched out the window as Torrin joined the other men in the courtyard and mounted his horse.

"May God protect him," she whispered, tears in her eyes. And please let him find Aiden alive and well.

Though she could scarcely believe it, those were the two men she cared most about in this world… them and Dirk. 'Twas obvious she would care about her brothers… but Torrin? She had never imagined. Sometimes when she relived what they'd indulged in yesterday and last night, she was shocked at herself.

Aye, shocked, but she didn't regret it. Like her father, she had always believed in living life to the fullest when the opportunity arose. But that had left her emotionally bruised and battered. If she didn't fall in love with Torrin, she wouldn't be hurt when he deserted her. But simply imagining that made her chest ache and her throat close.

"Nay," she whispered. I have not fallen in love with him.

Have I? Tears filled her eyes.

***

Torrin rode beside Erskine, Dirk's sword-bearer. His position was that of a war-leader, and from what Torrin could tell, the man was highly skilled. Torrin's two bodyguards followed, the only two of his men he hadn't sent on errands. He hoped the others returned soon. Iain rode farther back with the four Stewart men. Twelve MacKay guards and clansmen also accompanied them, including Conall and two of his brawny sons, Dougal and Little Conall. But, truth be told, Little Conall was larger than Big Conall.

First, they visited the old byre where Torrin and Jessie had been held. 'Twas empty. Next, they searched Smoo Cave. Also abandoned, but they found an eight-oar bìrlinn on the beach there. Obviously, this had been Haldane's landing point. Two of the MacKays used their axes to chop holes in the boat so the brigands couldn't escape so easily.

"McMurdo is known to have some well-concealed hiding places," Erskine said. "'Tis why he has escaped capture all these years. My father and the former chief often searched for the highwayman. He's as wily as a fox."

Torrin nodded. He'd heard tales of the elusive and murderous McMurdo all his life and knew better than to underestimate him.

The clan tracker, Silas MacKay, a tall, lanky fellow with a receding hairline, rode in front as they left the coast and headed inland. Beyond the byre, Silas veered off the trail onto the moor, got off his horse and examined the grass and other plants. "Looks like they might have gone this way," he called back to Erskine and Torrin.

They all followed him as he walked, leading his horse so as to see the ground and plants better, looking for signs of disturbance. An hour later, they neared larger rocks and crags leading into the mountains, the large expanse of gray broken only by patches of green heather.

"We must be ready. They could be hiding behind any of these boulders," Erskine warned.

"Indeed." Torrin crept forward with them, all the men armed with swords, targes and dirks, though Torrin did not have his own sword; the outlaws had stolen it the day before. Three MacKay archers also accompanied them. Those on horseback dismounted.

The further they advanced into the mountains, the more the path turned to gravel and scree which had eroded off the mountains for millennia. 'Twas impossible to see tracks now, but only one trail existed through this area with the steep mountains on both sides.

Fully aware their horses could be injured, killed, or stolen by the outlaws, they left the beasts with five men and continued on foot. 'Twould be too simple for a horse to break a leg amongst these unstable rocks.

Going by foot also allowed them to creep more quietly along the rough stony path. Torrin hoped they could slip up on the outlaws and catch them unawares. Most of all, he prayed Aiden was unharmed. He didn't know the lad well, but he was Jessie's beloved brother. Daft though he may be for leaving the keep to talk to Haldane. He should've known better, but Torrin could also understand the need to try to talk some sense into his law-breaking younger brother. Torrin wished he could've convinced his own younger brother to change his depraved ways before it was too late.

No use wishing for things he could never have now. A heavy sense of loss kicked him in the stomach and memories of their younger years haunted him.

Damnation! Don't think of it.

The one thing he was determined to have now was Jessie. He simply had to convince her of his worth and devotion.

A scent caught his attention—smoke and roasted meat. He halted, holding up his arm so those behind him would stop. "Smell that?" he asked, his voice hushed. "Their camp is close."

"Aye," Erskine whispered.

Sudden loud clanging and war cries resounded through the rocky crags. A rag-tag group of warriors wielding swords and targes stormed from behind boulders. But Torrin was ready, and the men who stood with him appeared ready as well. Blade clashed against blade.

Arrows flew down from the cliffs above. Torrin lifted his targe to deflect them. A skinny, blond-bearded man wearing ragged trews charged Torrin. He easily warded off the younger man's blows. The miscreant bared his teeth and launched a more determined attack. After landing a few blows against Torrin's blade, the man had worn himself out.