Page 125 of Bride of Mist
Despite Adam vehemently disapproving of leaving his sister’s rescue in Dougal’s hands, Gellir had been suspiciously eager to capitulate to Dougal’s wishes. If they were as deceitful as Feiyan, they hadn’t capitulated at all. They were on their way here.
“I need ye to give them a message,” he said. “Can ye do that?”
Merraid nodded. “What message?”
“What young men?” Feiyan asked.
“Gellir and Adam.”
“What?” Feiyan blurted. “They’re coming here?”
“I’m fairly certain they are.”
“Alone?” Fear flickered briefly in her eyes, like lightning in a summer storm. “You told them to come alone?”
“I told themnotto come,” he said. “But I’ve learned that followin’ orders is discretionary in the Rivenloch clan.”
Feiyan sighed, but couldn’t argue the point. “They’ll likely come in disguise.”
“Will they?” he asked. Then he frowned. “Hopefully not as the king again.”
“What?”
“Naught,” he said, shaking his head. God willing, there would be time to swap stories later. “Perhaps ye can describe the lads for Merraid?”
While Feiyan gave Merraid a detailed description, including several of Adam’s favorite disguises, Dougal formulated a plan of attack.
It wouldn’t be easy. He had to take into account the ruthlessness of Gaufrid’s mercenaries. The magnitude of Rivenloch’s forces. And the vulnerability of the mac Darragh clan folk who would take Dougal’s side in the battle to come.
But he had an idea. There were things about the castle Gaufrid didn’t know. Secrets his brother had never shown an interest in. While Gaufrid wasted his childhood, Dougal had spent a lifetime shadowing their father, learning the names and faces of the clan and memorizing every nook and cranny of the keep.
Gaufrid might have known about the stairs leading from the ale cellar to the storage chamber, which he’d turned into a gaol.
But he was probably unaware of thesecondsecret passageway—the one that led from the back of the buttery to the brink of the firth. And that could be the chink in his armor.
Chapter 31
Gellir wasn’t pleased with his disguise. Not as pleased as he’d been as the King of Scotland. But Adam had done the best he could with what was available.
As he hobbled along in the tabard and cloak Adam had ripped to shreds and coated in filth, leaning heavily on his makeshift crutch, he wondered how angry his mother would be when she saw what had been done to his finery.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” he mumbled to Adam as they approached the well-guarded keep.
“All we need to do is get inside and stay unseen,” Adam said, pulling his own hood farther over his grime-encrusted face. “Keep your face covered, and don’t bark out any commands, and you’ll be fine.”
“I don’t bark out commands.”
Adam arched a brow at him that said otherwise.
“We’re rat-catchers,” Adam explained. “One step above a gong farmer. So stoop a bit, keep your head down, look no one in the eye, and, if we’re lucky, we’ll be given a bit of cheese for our trouble.”
“Good,” Gellir said as his belly growled. “I’m hungrier than a nun in Lent.”
It was his own fault. They’d walked most of the day to get here. But when Adam had suggested they might trade the jewels in Dougal’s dagger for food, Gellir had told him it wouldn’t be right to trade away the possessions of a man who meant to wed his sister.
Of course, that had started a fight. Adam didn’t want to think about his sister marrying…anyone, he supposed. That was understandable. Brothers didn’t like to think of their sisters as objects of desire. Gellir hadn’t been exactly thrilled when their Highland hostage began courting his sister Hallie.
Now, of course, Hallie’s husband and he were best of friends, as well as brothers-in-law. Colban an Curaidh had turned out to be worthy of the title of champion.
