“You should have just planted him a facer instead of threatening him.”
Bannon chuckled and relaxed into his seat. Taking her hand, he leaned sideways, jostling into her shoulder without looking away from the porthole. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He could get a better view of those clouds, and Prissy and the other men were getting off the shuttle. Too bad he hadn’t had time to grab a sketchscreen. Oh well. If Lieutenant Taylor was to be believed, they wouldn’t be long, and Bannon had an excellent memory. He rarely drew while studying his subject.
He was settling in to watch the planet approach, when Captain Kindros’s voice came over the intercom into the shuttle.
“Shuttle One, we have triumphed over our attackers.”
Yup, not long at all. Bannon smiled and finally took a deep breath to settle himself.
“But the Lady Elizabeth and her crew are under attack, and we have been called to the Hansark system to provide assistance. Please make yourselves at home on Skye, and we will return to retrieve you as soon as possible.”
Bloody hell! Bannon resisted the urge to bang his head on the seat in front of him. The Hansark system was one of the systems involved in the Aquarius War. Dust and imploding planets! It could take weeks for the Lady Anna to return!
§ § § §
Planet Skye
A cliff ridge was not the most comfortable place to lie. Yawning, Ciaran stretched his neck to the side, then rested his forehead on the ground in front of him for a moment. He had a crick in his neck, his shoulders ached, and he was pretty sure there was a rock under his left hip bone, but he couldn’t seem to tear his attention away from the spectacle below him. Caught between awe and apprehension, he lifted his spyglass again and stared down at the construction site.
He had helped build many cottages, and he’d even seen the new tower at Ellenwine, the Campbell keep, being erected when he’d been fostered with Patrick and the Campbells, but this was like nothing he’d ever imagined. He’d been here since a little after noon when he’d spotted the huge hole, easily the size of Lochwood Castle. Men had been placing metal rods in it to form a grid. It was approaching twilight, and now the men below were pouring some sort of mortar into the hole—though it wasn’t like any mortar he’d ever seen. This mortar was poured from huge metal barrels. The men were bringing the barrels in by horse-drawn wagons. The thick gray cement was poured into the hole as one after another the men brought barrels forward and tipped them off the ends of the carts. There were still more carts coming this way from the direction of the MacLean stronghold, Dris Abbey, all full of the metal barrels. It was mind-boggling. At this rate they’d have a whole building in a day or two. After three years, Ellenwine still wasn’t complete.
“This is verra disturbing. Do ye think this is why the attacks have stopped?” Angus whispered from beside him with dread clear in his voice. Reaching over, he plucked the spyglass right out of Ciaran’s hand.
On Angus’s other side, Greer stayed quiet and watchful, but then Greer never said much. He was the strong silent type. He came in real handy in a fight, but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
Up until a month and a half ago, they’d dealt with monthly battles from men in flying ships. It had started the night his father was killed and continued. Ciaran had lost many good men to their unknown enemy. They all had. The attacks were not exclusive. All the surrounding clans had been subjected to ambush. It had become such a problem that they now had nightly patrols.
Frowning at his captain, Ciaran turned back to the scene before him. “I dinna ken. It could be.” He knew he should be grateful—God knew they’d lost enough men—but he’d only felt a sense of dread. “I guess we will wait tae see what Patrick says.” They had yet to identify who was responsible for the attacks, the men always dressed in nondescript clothing and rode in unmarked ships.
Ciaran glanced up at the sky, trying to discern the time. Where was he? Ram had left to go get Patrick hours ago. Twilight was upon them, and a storm was brewing. A gust of wind buffeted them from the front, and the air was charged. The breeze was cold despite