Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,76

solve that damn riddle.”

“We’re all tired,” Maximus replied frowning, “but we’re so close now … I can almost taste it.” He glanced over at where Cassian leaned against the wall, his legs stretched out before him. “Aren’t we, Cass?”

It was at this point that Cassian usually leaped in with some advice that would spur them on. He was the most optimistic of the three of them, but fatigue had lowered his defenses. Today despondency weighed upon him like a heavy mantle. He couldn’t dredge up the words.

Cassian pinched the skin between his eyebrows. Mithras, I need sleep.

He’d just come from speaking to the Wallace, and been heading toward his quarters, when Maximus had intercepted him. Now the three of them sat around the small table in the center of their ‘study’, a windowless room at the back of Dunnottar dungeons.

“Max is right,” Cassian said tonelessly when an uncomfortable silence settled in the chamber. “It might not seem like it … but we are making progress.” He lifted his cup to his lips once more and drained the rest of his ale. This conversation was giving him a headache. He really was tired after the journey, and longed to stretch out in his chamber and sleep the rest of the day away.

By rights, he should be jubilant, for they’d managed to get Gavina, Elizabeth, and Aila safely home. However, he felt empty. Even seeing Dunnottar rising against the eastern sky hadn’t filled him with pride as it usually did. The mess with Aila had left a sour taste in his mouth, one that no amount of ale could wash away.

She knew his secret, but that only made things more strained between them. He’d been given a reprieve during the journey, for danger had brought them together for a spell. But things would be different back in Dunnottar. Shortly after they’d entered the lower ward bailey, she’d rushed off to see her family. He’d likely see very little of her from today forward. It was for the best, yet a hollow ache in the center of his chest plagued him whenever he thought of her.

Pushing the sensation aside, Cassian reached for the jug of ale and refilled his cup. “The board is set … things are likely to move fast now,” he said, avoiding his friends’ penetrating gazes. “Maybe, we just need to stop searching for answers and let the game begin.”

Loud voices boomed against the paneled walls of Dunnottar’s hall, partially drowning out the conversation of those seated closest to Aila.

News of David De Keith’s death had raced through the keep, and would have reached the nearby village of Stonehaven by now. Everyone would know how he’d tried to knife the English king and paid for it with his own life. Some would doubtless even consider him a hero for the act.

Steaming tureens of venison stew sat upon the table. The rich stew was served with oaten bread and wedges of aged sheep’s cheese. Despite the knot that still sat under her ribcage, Aila ate hungrily. Although Iona had brought a hearty noon meal up to her earlier in the day, she still felt famished. Around Aila, the conversation eddied and flowed. Her sister sat next to her, but was kept busy placating their overwrought mother.

Relief settled over Aila. She was glad that few folk paid her much attention. She wished to be ignored this evening.

Farther down the table, William Wallace was deep in conversation with Cassian and her father, although Aila was careful not to look in their direction. She’d deliberately avoided glancing anywhere near Dunnottar’s Captain of the Guard. Once or twice, she’d felt his gaze upon her, yet she’d refused to look his way.

Her conversation with Heather earlier in the day had made some things clear.

She’d made a mistake, one that she somehow needed to make peace with.

But she was home now, and with war looming on the horizon, she needed to focus on what had to be done to protect this stronghold. Many of the women currently spent their afternoons fletching arrows, and Aila would join them the following day. Lady Gavina had increased the number of guards keeping watch on the walls, and upped the frequency of patrols south of the fortress. Despite the word of Comyn, the consensus was that Longshanks would likely seek vengeance for De Keith’s act. It was better to be safe than sorry. While Aila had helped her mistress dress for supper, Gavina informed her that Wallace intended to stay on