Page 63 of Dark Side of the Laird
He was lying. But he ran away before we could question him further.
I glanced around. How in the hell would we be able to find Logan in this utter mess? There was no one to show us the way, either. On the other hand, with the place being in chaos, we’d likely get in and out unseen.
An older woman standing by the stables caught my attention and when our gazes connected, she nodded her head at me. I stared back at her, was she looking at me? She nodded again and gave a little wave of her hand, but looked about her frantically as though she hoped no one had seen her signal to me.
I climbed off my horse, securing the satchel containing the box onto my back.
“What are ye doing, my lady? Ye must remain on your mount. ’Tis not safe,” Logan’s guard called to me.
I came around the side of Gregor’s horse and motioned for him to come down.
“This place is in an uproar, no one will notice if I slip away. There is an older woman by the stables motioning to me. I think she might know where Laird Grant is. You all find out what happened to the men who traveled with him.”
He shook his head vigorously. “Nay, I canna let ye go alone. ’Tis not safe. I’ll come with ye, and have the men search for our warriors.”
I shook my head. “Wait for me here.”
He hesitated, then slipped a dagger up my sleeve. With a final, long stare, he nodded. “Dinna engage with anyone, but in case ye need it.”
I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Be ready to depart.”
I don’t know why I was so confident. Maybe it was the visions, or just plain stupidity, but my blood rushed with adrenaline and excitement. We were in the right place. I knew it deep in my soul, just as I knew I could break Logan free of whatever bound him here.
I rushed to the stables and the woman grabbed hold of my arm, her long bony fingers biting hard through the fabric of my cloak and gown.
“He is dying,” she said.
I nodded, knowing this. Accepting it. And eager to reverse it.
Her eyes locked with mine. “Ye must take him away from here.”
I nodded again. She pushed a scroll into my hands. “Take this. Afore the king died, I encouraged him to sign it. ’Tis Laird Grant’s title and lands. He is to be a free man, but none of the guards have let him go. Revenge, I think.”
My stomach did a little flip and I shoved the scroll into the satchel. “Take me to him.”
20
Logan
“Here he is, lass.”
The words barely registered in my mind. Sounded sort of like the old crone. But the candle in my cell had long since burned out.
There was a scratch, a hiss and spark and then light glowed eerie.
Was I having another vision?
“Logan!” Emma’s voice sounded so real, loud. At any moment I expected fog to fill the room and her to walk through it. But instead, the candle light came closer.
Should I answer her, so she could find her way to me? Tell her to come closer? To let me see her face?
I opened my mouth, but my tongue was swollen once more, likely split and cracked from dehydration and the latest beating. All of my skin appeared to be in tact so at least I’d been spared the brutal warden’s twenty-two cuts.
Even still, speaking was too painful.
I groaned, my eyes closing. I was having a vision, I was almost certain and keeping my eyes open to disappointment was simply too much.
“Oh, darling, I’m here. I won’t leave you. Stay with me,” Emma said.
