Part 28 (1/2)

”We'll talk about that when it happens.”

Eliot leaned close, black eyes burning. ”Know this. As his nearest kin, Gealach is mine. And Alex's precious little varlet can be buried wi' him.”

Skelley straight-armed Eliot right out of his saddle. He dropped into the mud with a splash. Skelley flexed his hand, ready to lay into him again. He'd been itching to do that for years.

Laine looked between Skelley and Eliot, wide-eyed. Davie reined in a few feet away, blocking the frightened horse's escape and capturing the lead. His pale eyes were devoid of warmth or expression.

Skelley kicked his horse forward so it pranced around the fallen Eliot. ”By G.o.d, man, I've heard enough! You can be sure Alex will get an earful when we return. We have no use for knaves in our ranks. And if you lay a finger on Hugh, I'll kill ye meself.”

”He's a thief and a liar and has caused naught but trouble since we found him.”

”You're a thief! And that lad is Red Alex's nephew. I'll not hear of harming him!”

Eliot snorted derisively, swiping the blood and rain from his mouth. ”Nephew! Ye believe that drivel? Methinks Alex is turning monk again and favors b.u.g.g.e.ring the pretty lad's b.u.m.”

There was a hiss of metal as Laine drew his sword again, eyes blazing. Even Davie rode forward threateningly, his mount stamping the ground too near Eliot's mud hole for comfort. Such slander could not go unanswered, or unpunished, but Alex would be furious if Skelley took matters into his own hands, as he would love to.

”You've gone too far,” Skelley said, barely able to speak through his fury. ”Get on your horse.”

Eliot ran his arm across his mouth, smearing mud across his black beard. It was quickly washed clean by the rain. He held Skelley's eyes for a long moment before nodding and getting to his feet.

Skelley knew this was far from over. Eliot had been a problem for some time, yet Alex was loath to send him away. He'd been a favorite of Red Rowan's and had once been as close to Alex as his own brothers. Alex kept looking for the good in Eliot, giving him chances to redeem himself. But Skelley believed the only kind bones in Eliot's body had been buried with his arm.

Eliot tried to catch his horse, a skittish mount that didn't particularly care for its rider, when an arrow sliced through the air, knocking Skelley's helm from his head. Skelley ducked and shouted, ”Go!”

Eliot snagged his horse and tried to mount-a difficult task for a one-armed man at the best of times, no easy task when the horse was temperamental. But Eliot would spurn all offers of help, Skelley knew, so he rode past him. Davie was already gone, but Laine had turned, firing his latch into the forest.

Men burst through the trees and Skelley delayed no longer. With a final shout at Laine to move, he spurred his horse forward after Davie.

Laine started after Skelley, looking over his shoulder. Several men surrounded Eliot, who had stopped trying to mount his horse and stood with his one arm held up in surrender. Laine loaded his latch and fired at one of the men. It caught him in the throat, sending him sprawling off his horse in a funnel of blood. Laine's heart was racing. He'd never killed a man before and was sickened, but a fellow rider's life was at stake. Though that life might not be worth saving-or risking his own for-he could not face Red Alex if he didn't try.

Laine drew another bolt to load in his latch, but two men were bearing down on him. He abandoned the latch and unsheathed his sword.

He yanked on his reins, turning his horse to meet the attackers when something caught him across the back. He slumped forward, over the horse's neck. He caught a glimpse of Eliot, facedown in the mud, water plopping all around him, before another blow knocked him from his horse.

When Skelley was certain they were no longer being followed, he stopped. Eliot had definitely been captured or killed. Skelley couldn't say he cared, but knew Alex would not be happy. He waited, heart pounding, for Laine to burst out of the trees behind them. The rain had let up, was now a blanket of mist. Water dripped from branches and leaves. Skelley thrust wet hair off his forehead.

”Come on, lad,” he whispered. Skelley turned his head slightly at the sound of Davie's approach. He came up alongside Skelley, placed a hand on his shoulder, and shook his head. Skelley knew he was right. They must go on. Alex needed them.

Skelley looked over his shoulder one last time before following Davie into the trees. They had lost the extra horses, the litter, most of the supplies and two men, but at least Skelley still had Davie and his wee box-that was something.

And Davie seemed to know the way, which was a relief to Skelley, who feared he was well lost. Davie picked his way around the jagged rocks protruding from the ground, Skelley close behind. He stopped and dismounted. Skelley followed, surprised to see the entrance to a small cave, hidden among the brush and trees. Davie had already disappeared inside. Skelley hobbled the horses and turned only to give a bark of surprise when confronted with Bear. The ma.s.sive horse bobbed his head, nudging Skelley's shoulder, pus.h.i.+ng him toward the cave.

”I'm going!”

The silence from the cave made Skelley uneasy. He ducked his head and entered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Davie had lit several candles and situated them around the edge of the cave. He knelt in front of his pack, rummaging through it. Skelley walked over to the two lumps against the wall, his legs stiff with fear. Wolf lay beside them. She lifted her head and whined, then lay it down again. There was a pile of dead hares in the corner, covered with flies and stinking horribly.

They must be dead. Skelley had taken too long. He had ridden as hard as he could, but it had still taken nearly three days to get to Gealach and back. Too long.

Davie returned to the two bodies on the floor, urging Wolf aside. The dog went to the pile of hares and sniffed at it, disturbing the black cloud that clung to it. Davie rolled the largest lump-Alex-onto his back. Alex moaned and tried to roll away. Skelley let out a sigh of relief and hurried forward to lend a.s.sistance.