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  "Bleh!" She glared at Ranald. "Dinna call him my Graemme."

  "He will be," Chief Broccin warned. "This doesna change the vows. Finding his brother to protect Muriele is the reason he could not marry right away."

  "Both Graemme and his brother are worthy, Elyne," Ranald said. "Their only flaw is they are more honorable than most men."

  "How can ye say such when this brother kidnapped Muriele?"

  "Magnus is a good man. Too worthy for his own happiness." He paced over to the window and looked out at the bailey below. "He made a vow it is impossible for him to keep."

  "Huh! No more impossible than mine, I'll wager." Elyne sucked her teeth. "What was this impossible promise?"

  "When he was a youngling, he and his foster brother Feradoch of the Gunn's, made a blood vow to revenge each other if one of them was dealt a terrible wrong." Ranald turned, his arms crossed over his chest. His voice lowered. "The Gunns claimed Muriele entered a handfast with Feradoch"

  "Heh! What is terrible about an old tradition?"

  "Naught. But she stabbed him in the back the same night. And murdered his leman."

  "Did they see her do it?"

  "Nay. But they demand she be brought back and hung."

  Elyne's fingertips stifled a small cry from her lips. She swallowed and glared at Ranald, as if the bad news was his fault.

  "Muriele would never kill anyone! If she stabbed him, he must have done something terrible and deserved it!"

  "Never kill? She has already taken a life. Ye saw her slit a man's neck afore." Her father thumped his chest and belched, then downed what was left of his ale.

  "Aye. To keep him from capturing her!"

  "Then dinna say she would never kill." Broccin scowled at her.

  "And this Magnus," Elyne turned her back to her father to speak to Ranald. "Why was it an impossible promise? Seems to me, he found it easy enough to pluck her out of the convent and disappear with her." Her anger built knowing men thought nothing of protecting a woman, only of punishing them.

  "It's impossible to fulfill his vow. He loves her." Ranald went over to an arm chair and pulled it back from the table.

  Ranald's frustration showed, for though he was a man larger than most, his movements were always fluid. Graceful even. Now, he plunked down in the chair, his legs sprawled in front of him. Everything on the table clattered and finally righted itself.

  "Loves her?" Elyne scoffed. "With a love like his, a woman doesna need hate."

  "Aye, he loves her."

  Ranald pointed to his goblet and Broccin filled it with red wine. Ranald took a hearty swallow and drew the back of his hand across his lips.

  "He doesna. No man who loves a woman would chase her down like she was a rabid fox." Elyne was so tense she feared she would explode. "He loves her so much he would take her back to be hanged? Nay. Hate is more like it."

  "I questioned Ysabel whilst we were returning here. For truth, this Magnus is in love with Muriele. Ysabel said he could not eat during their trip. He barely slept. When he did, he cried out in his dreams."

  "Ha! Ye should know something of that, daughter."

  Elyne cast him a scowl as telling as any of her brother's.

  "I'm glad the bastard has night terrors."

  "Daughter!" The chief struck the table, making the wine pitcher wobble.

  Elyne shrugged. "Serves him right for being such a fool." She glared at Ranald. "Why are ye sitting here and not going after them?"

  "Because he loves her. And he's an honorable man."

  Elyne let out an exasperated shriek. "Dinna say such again! Love and honor with these brothers are akin to hate and shame!"

  Squat crept from under the table and dragged his butt on the floor close to Broccin's boots, leaving a foul smell.

  "Ysabel doesna believe Magnus can bring himself to return her to the Gunn's. He will fulfill his vow, but he will not allow harm to come to Muriele."

  Elyne snorted. Loud. The sound as disgusted and disbelieving as any man's.

  "He will drag Muriele to the Highlands, though she is the only woman he has ever loved? How can ye claim he loves her when he knows something dreadful will happen to her there?"

  Annoyed because he was not more concerned for their friend, she kicked Ranald's right foot so hard he had to adjust himself in the chair.

  "I'll not have a brother-by-law who is so rigid, nor will I live with such a family."

  Of all the men she could have given herself to for the first time, it had to be to a deceitful man with a brother who had such twisted morals he'd see his love killed afore he would break a vow.

  Well, she didn't intend to tie herself to such a cruel family. Piss on them! And she used to think her own father was harsh!

  Graemme would probably think nothing of tossing her off the highest turret if she displeased him.

  And she knew she would.

  She was too used to doing as she wished. The women in her family were all strong. Not a one would put up with the insult he had handed her after giving him the gift of herself.

  Somehow, she'd pay him back for that insult. And he could forget ever having bed sport with her again!

  Chapter 10

  Elyne stopped outside her bedchamber to compose herself before she entered. She couldn't go in and slam the door and kick the bed the way she wanted to do. Ysabel was there and would think she shared a room with a crazy person.

  She undressed down to her shift and quietly slid between the covers. The faint moonlight coming through the window opening showed her the lady was not asleep. 'Twas funny she would automatically think of her as a lady. There was no mistaking the breeding in the woman's speech, nor in the manner in which she bore herself.

  "Did ye have enough to eat, Ysabel?"

  "Aye. Ye were kind to send up such a hearty meal."

  "Ye must be very tired. If I know my brother, he would have ridden hard to get here."

  "I am bone weary, but too confused to sleep."

  "And I am too angry at my father to have naught but nightmares!"

  Elyne rolled to her right side and plumped up her pillow then slid her arm beneath it. Watching her, Ysabel turned toward her so they could talk face to face.

  "Tell me of Clibrick Castle and the people who live there."

  "I have never been to Clibrick, but everyone in the villages between there and my home speaks of them. What do you want to know?"

  "Anything you can recall about Chief Angus and his sons."

  "I have heard stories of the two young men for many years. The older is Magnus, the younger Graemme. They didna grow up together because of feuds between the Morgans and the Gunns."

  "What separated them?"

  "The two Chiefs fostered their sons together. They made them swear a blood oath when they were younglings. Strangely, after Feradoch of the Gunns came to foster with the Morgans, the villages far from Clibrick Castle lived in fear. Two weeks of each year, Magnus returned to Clibrick to spend time with the Morgans and Feradoch. The next two weeks, Feradoch would return to Kinbrace with Magnus. The weeks when Magnus was at Clibrick or when Feradoch was away, the village folk relaxed."

  "When Magnus was not there, what did they fear?"

  "Raids at night where their daughters were taken from their huts then returned in the morn."

  Chill bumps formed on Elyne's arms. "Then Graemme and Feradoch preyed on the outlying villages? They raped the women there?"

  "Nay. Not Graemme. They only had reports of a man who looked like a blond Viking. And also of his friend. An ugly lout."

  She gave such a violent shudder Elyne could feel it in the bedding.

  "This Graemme. Does he have lemans living at the castle?"

  "Nay. Though he's had women aplenty from the age of fifteen. 'Tis said little by little the village lasses paid heed only to this Feradoch."

  "By chance, Graemme was cruel to them?"

  "I dinna think so. This foster brother declared to everyone Graemme was soft and weak as a
woman."

  Elyne snorted. "Soft? He can be mean as a ravening wolf!"

  "I wouldna know. Several years ago, we heard he was in love with a blond lass. She was the daughter of a knight at the castle." Ysabel put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

  Knowing Graemme loved another woman made Elyne's anger heat. Some love he had for this knight's daughter when he was only too eager to swive her here at Raptor!

  "What is her name?"

  "Elspeth, I believe."

  Before she could speak again, a queasy feeling made Elyne swallow bitter water that surged to her mouth.

  "Why has he not married her?"

  "Graemme?" Ysabel blinked and tried to keep her drooping eyes open.

  "Aye."

  "I would not know..." She finished the sentence with a soft sigh, half asleep.

  "Ye must be terribly tired, Ysabel. Sleep and we will talk more on the morrow."

  Elyne tossed and turned and thought she'd never relax. Finally, exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted off, only to be caught up in one of her foretelling dreams.

  She found herself hidden high in a tree watching a giant black wolf in a stream. He stood tall on his hind legs, like a man. Mud covered his body and leaves had tangled in his hairy chest. He covered himself with soap and began to bathe. As he scrubbed his body, the long animal hair washed away with the mud. Beneath was hard, male flesh.

  Finally, nothing remained of the wolf except his face.

  Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She tried to hold her breath, afeared he would hear her breathing. The wolf man's face turned from side to side. Moonlight hit the slanted eyes showing they were so deep a brown as to appear black. Satisfied he was alone; he began to wash his face.

  As he splashed water on it, the branch she perched on broke away. She tumbled to the ground. Jumping to her feet, she ran as fast as a fox. His terrible snarls were thunderous, crashing behind her. The earth vibrated when he ran. His panting drowned out any other sounds as he gained on her.

  His breath stirred the hair on her neck and his massive arms grabbed and pulled her against a hairy body. The hair did not feel coarse and thick as the wolf's had looked, but soft and tickled the flesh on her back.

  With her tight against him, he grunted and nuzzled her ear. With horror, 'twas not a man's face caressing her cheek, nor a man's lips tasting her flesh.

  A long, hot and wet tongue started at the throbbing pulse of her neck and trailed up her jaw, savored her cheek and stopped at the edge of her lips.

  She shrieked!

  Elyne was still splitting the quiet night with screams when Ranald and her father found her in the apple orchard. Her eyes were wide with fright. When Ranald kneeled to take her by the shoulders, she fought him as fiercely as a demented barn cat. He grabbed her wrists as she tried to gouge his eyes and held tight to them, talking to her all the while in a quiet, soothing voice.

  "Lass, 'tis Ranald. No one is going to hurt you."

  He looked at Broccin, for Elyne did not seem to hear him. Aunt Joneta ran up, knelt on the ground behind Elyne and pinned her arms to the side.

  "Wake up, lovey. 'Tis naught but one of your dreams." She repeated it over and over, and finally Elyne began to quiet. She blinked, holding her eyelids tight and then opening them.

  "Dafty! 'Tis a wonder any man would consider her!" Broccin shouted and pulled his hair at his temples. "How many times have we found her roaming the castle grounds, the fields, even the pig sty sitting in the midst of their slops?"

  Elyne put her arms around Ranald and sobbed, muttering the wolf would tear out her throat. Joneta and Ranald kept up a soothing, wordless murmuring in her ears until she stopped shaking.

  "If Sir Graemme hears of this, he'll think she's crazy as a loon and will likely murder him whilst in one of her wild dreams." Broccin stomped around in a circle, kicking the earth with each step. "If he refuses to have her to wife, she'll spend the rest of her life in the nearest convent. Let them deal with her."

  Ranald lips thinned and his fingers twitched. He had an overwhelming need to do something physical. Fury churned in his mind at the cruel statement. He'd not let his father lock her away in a convent the way he had discarded him at Kelso Abbey to either live or die. Broccin hadn't cared which.

  He knew why his father had hated him. Had even come to terms with it. A common superstition in the Highlands was the belief the second born of identical twins had an evil soul. But surely, Broccin had some love for his only daughter?

  "You'll do no such thing, brother!" Lady Joneta said firmly. "She has the dreams for a special reason. We should all pay more heed to them." She frowned and smoothed back Elyne's hair. "I think this will not be the end of them, lovey. Ye have not seen the wolf's true face. It may not be Sir Graemme, but someone else. Your gift may be trying to warn you about a man you dinna yet know."

  Rising with Elyne sobbing in his arms, her face buried in his neck, Ranald ignored Broccin and headed toward the keep. He held tight to his fury, not wanting to lose control. If he did, he couldn't stop the winds from blowing or objects flying around when his gaze touched them. As it was, a forceful gust banged the heavy doors of the keep open as he approached them.

  Squat shot out of the open doorway like someone had booted him in his bowlegged hindquarters. He took a quick look at each of the humans and must have decided Broccin was the one who had caused his mistress to cry. Without hesitation, as Broccin passed him, a hot stream of piss soaked the Chief's left foot. Squat skittered away afore a forceful kick could meet his malformed body.

  Elyne felt the rigid control in Ranald's body and stopped sobbing. She hiccupped and patted his scarred cheek, trying to soothe Ranald as he had quieted her.

  "Dinna let him spike yer temper, Ranald. I know ye would never allow him to lock me away."

  Taking a deep breath, he hugged her tighter.

  "Ye must not tell Ysabel anything of yer dreams." Ranald shook his head. "Ye know how frightened most become of anyone not alike themselves." He chuckled. "Look how quickly they believed me a Black Raptor and thought I could change into a huge bird of prey."

  Ranald's body relaxed as he calmed. He picked his way amongst the sleeping men on the great hall's floor and entered the solar.

  "I'll fix ye an elixir to sleep afore ye return to yer room," he said. He turned to Broccin and tried to smile, but 'twas more of a grimace. "Go to bed, Father. I will handle this from now on."

  "Ye'd best. Can't have everyone in Scotland believing both of my children are beset by mad spirits!"

  "Oh, go to bed, Brother, afore I take a broom to you," Joneta said with a scowl.

  Grumbling about senseless women, Broccin stalked out of the solar and walked the short distance to the door of his bedchamber. When the door closed behind him, they could hear a woman's voice urging him to climb under the covers and give her a good swiving.

  Ranald sat Elyne in a chair and quickly went to a chest beside the wall to withdraw a leather bag filled with herbs and potions for all kinds of remedies. He never went anywhere without it. Quickly, he stirred herbs ground into a powder in a small amount of wine and handed it to Elyne. She swallowed it without asking anything about its contents.

  Elyne had complete faith in her brother's healing abilities he'd learned in his years as a monk in Kelso. She spread her arms and stretched, unable to stifle a yawn while she did so.

  "I think it safe for ye to return to yer bed with Ysabel. Should she ask anything of tonight's events, tell her ye couldna sleep and went for a walk beneath the fruit trees. An owl swooped so low his talons slid through your hair and frightened ye."

  "I'll be asleep afore I even finish telling her." Elyne stretched up on her toes and kissed her brother's scarred cheek.

  Aunt Joneta took her by the arm to steady her to her room. When they opened the door, they found Ysabel sitting up in the middle of the bed, the covers drawn up to her eyes. Joneta calmly walked over to the bed, pulled back the covers and tucked Elyne in.
r />   "Go to sleep, ladies. 'Tis hours afore the sun rises." She looked at her niece and smiled. "Next time you canna sleep, come to me to accompany you in the orchards. We will both be afeared of the night creatures." She chuckled and motioned for Ysabel to lie down then tucked the covers around her.

  With no other words, she left the room, pulling the door silently closed.

  Chapter 11

  Six days after leaving the Convent, Graemme was near ten leagues from Clibrick when he saw a flash of light on the hill ahead of him. 'Twas enough to know the lowering sun had glinted off a shiny helm. His horse snorted, weary from their fast pace, but Graemme urged it to a burst of speed. Before the evening hour, he knew he had caught up to them.

  He left the mount hidden in the bushes until he was sure it was Magnus and not some lawless party going over their loot. He used his broadsword to hold back the bushes, confident he could handle anything awaiting him.

  When he came to the last line of the trees before the camp, he studied the scene before him. A comely woman, long and naked, lay on a kilt on the ground. Cuts, scars and bruises covered her back. Magnus must have sensed his approach, for when he jumped upright, his bow was already arced as bulging arm muscles pulled the nocked arrow back. He stood between the trees and the unconscious woman.

  Graemme's brother' face looked drawn as tight as the hide cover on a war drum. His lips, white-rimmed with strain, clamped together in determination. Haunted near-black eyes within equally dark circles reminded Graemme of the charcoal Elyne had worn as the crone. But his husky voice sounded as strong and forceful as ever.

  "How in Hades did ye approach without us hearing?"

  Magnus sounded irritated but Graemme ignored him for his body seethed with anger.

  "What have ye done to the lass?!"

  When his mount burst out of hiding on hearing familiar voices, Graemme ran his hand down the steed's neck and praised him. As he tied his reins to a bush, he gazed intently at the girl on the ground then turned to fix his brother with a cold stare.