get that?” he asked, reaching for the other half of her bread.
“The kitchen. Didn’t you eat breakfast?”
“No.”
Fiona snatched the piece of bread from Louie and handed it to Bannon.
“Thanks.” He stuffed it into his mouth. Mmmm….
Louie frowned at Fiona, then Bannon.
He chewed and asked with his mouth full, “Who is Laird Ewan?”
“Ciaran’s father.” When Fiona said father, it sounded more like faither.
“Where is Ciaran?” Bannon asked and glanced back up at Hamish, wracking his brain for things to bribe the man with. He did not want Ciaran to know he’d run out of the hall like a nick-ninny.
Fiona shrugged. “He is hiding from the elders.”
Ciaran hiding? Bannon would have thought the man never hid from anything. “Elders?”
“Aye, the council. The laird answers tae them.”
“Oh, I see.” Actually he didn’t—on Regelence a lord only answered to his king—but he didn’t care, because he wasn’t going to be here long enough to learn clan hierarchy. “Do you know where he’s hiding?”
Fiona shook her head. “Nae, but I’d check the lists or Agatha’s cottage.” She glanced at Louie, then back to Bannon, and bit her bottom lip. “The council wasnae happy about him bringing ye both ’ere, but they said ye can stay, and they dinna find out about the black square.”
Bannon’s brows pulled together. He opened his mouth to ask what Fiona was talking about, but Louie beat him to it.
“Black square?” Louie moved to stand next to him.
“Aye. Ciaran found it where ye vessel crashed. It was really more of a rectangle and only one side was black; the other was blue with sparkles. I couldna see it well in the stables last night, but Agatha told me about the sparkles this morning. All I saw last night was a smooth gray slate about like this….” She held up her hands about nine inches apart, then turned them and moved them closer to about six inches.
He and Louie looked at each other as realization dawned.
“Bloody hell. He has a com-pad,” Bannon growled.
CHAPTER SIX
“Ruggedly handsome men are not to be trusted.”
—Timothy on relationships.
“Would you slow down?”
Bannon shook his head. “I’m on a mission.” They’d already been through the lists, and while there were several men practicing with swords, Ciaran was not one of them. So now his destination was Agatha’s cottage, which, according to Fiona, was “outside the main gate and tae the left, right before the woods.”
“Well, can you be on a mission at a slightly slower pace, please,” Louie panted as she jogged to catch up with him.
Frowning, Bannon slowed his pace slightly, but only because he wasn’t exactly certain where he was going, and his knee, though better, still ached a little. Fiona’s directions were vague. Glancing over his shoulder at Hamish, who was following them at a distance, he asked, “Is this the right way?”
Hamish nodded. “Aye.”
With a crisp nod, Bannon turned back around and continued his quick trek. At least having a guard was good for something.
Groaning, Louie turned back over her shoulder. “Thank you, Hamish.” Then to Bannon she hissed quietly, “You don’t have to be so rude.”
“Rude? I was not rude. I was….” Fine, maybe he was a little rude, but why did he have a guard and Louie didn’t? She’d even had breakfast. He wanted some breakfast. “Thank you, Hamish.”
There was a soft chuckle several paces back. “Ye are welcome, lad. Take a left.”
Bannon raised a hand to let the man know he’d heard him, and turned left after crossing the wood drawbridge and under the portcullis. They passed people coming in with carts and baskets slung over their shoulders. Oddly there was no moat under the drawbridge, which was probably a good thing. Because how terrible would that smell be, then?
Now that they were outside the gates, Bannon took a cautious sniff. Surprisingly the scent was nice, crisp, and green like any spring morning back home. And there was a lot of green grass and shrubs. As he turned left, he saw the tops of trees. It was rather beautiful and picturesque. Like a fairy-tale castle, if the fairy tale had men in kilts rather than knights in shining armor.
“I wish you would calm down.” Louie jogged to catch up again.
Bannon hadn’t even realized she’d fallen behind. “I’m calm.”
She arched a brow at him.
“I’m calmer than you are.”
“You are, in fact, not. I’m only winded from trying to keep up with you, not miffed. What has you in such a snit anyway? Why does Ciaran having a com-pad have your nose all out