not agree? I expect ’twas a shock, but I think when you truly consider it, ’tis good news.”
She nodded. “I’ll speak to him after you return and I get some rest. But please go free your mother from that cruel bastard.”
He touched her cheek. “He slapped you again.”
It was a statement, not a question, so she just nodded. ’Tis probably good I don’t come with you because I would enjoy seeing him killed.” She gave him a quick kiss, and he grabbed a hunk of bread and an ale before he headed back out the door.
Back in the stables, he moved down to a stall at the end, choosing the dark horse there. “Also a descendant of Grandsire’s horse Midnight.”
Hearing a sound behind him, he turned and was surprised to see his wife again. “Are you sure I cannot come along and help?” she asked, kneading her fingers together in her tunic.
He wrapped his arms around her and said, “Please stay. I cannot worry about both of you, the two most important women in my life. I wish to know you, at least, are safe and hale.” He prepared the horse for the journey and led him out, Branwen following him. Once outside in a quiet area, he turned to Branwen and pulled her to him, his hands at her waist. His lips captured hers in a kiss that was meant to be gentle, but it was anything but, his need for her overpowering. He hated that they’d had so few opportunities to be alone together, that this worry about his mother had always stood between them. He devoured her mouth as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
The truth was he couldn’t. He cupped her face and stopped, pulling back just enough to whisper to her. “I want you so badly, need you so much, but I must go. I apologize that our marriage has been wrought with so much tension and confusion. We will get past this, I promise. And I’ll make slow love to you until you scream my name.”
She gave a light giggle. “While I do look forward to that moment, I wish for you to do what you must. Do not feel bad about what has happened. None of this has been in your control. Or mine. We have the rest of our lives that we get to spend together, and I look forward to it. Do not despair. Find your mother and bring her home. She’s a lovely woman.”
He kissed her again, then stepped away, leading his horse out through the gates before he mounted and waved goodbye to her.
“Godspeed, husband.”
He thought he saw tears in her eyes, but he didn’t wish to see them, so he turned away to do what he needed to do.
He needed to focus on finding his mother. He mounted and passed his grandsire addressing Magnus and many of the Grant warriors. The number gathering for the journey was larger than he’d expected, but he knew his grandfather would do anything for his mother. She was his firstborn daughter, after all.
His cousins sat at the front of the group, the three more than anxious to leave. Alasdair called to him first. “You leaving Branwen behind? We can always use another archer.”
“She’s proven her talent,” Els said. “But she can stay back. Joya is too exhausted to come, so she’s staying here with Emmalin. I suspect Chrissa will want to join us. She hit two men in the skirmish.”
Alick ran a hand through his hair. “You can all watch over Chrissa. I know Branwen has the skill, and if the prisoner were anyone other than my mother, I would bring her. I just can’t be distracted. I can’t explain it, but there’s going to be something different about this battle.”
“I have the same feeling,” Dyna said. “I feel unsettled, and I don’t know what it means. I’d ask Grandsire but he has enough on his mind, too.”
As if on cue, Grandsire came forward with Da and Uncle Jamie, making the motion for them to move on.
And behind him came Chrissa, wearing a huge smile.
It was time to end this.
***
Branwen joined Emmalin and Joya by the curtain wall, waving to the warriors as they rode away. Ailith was in Joya’s arms and wee John stood next to the gate, his sword over his head.
“Get da Engwish, Papa,” he shouted. “Get da Engwish, Seanair. I a strong wawwior.” He swung his sword repeatedly, spitting off to the side whenever he said the