cousins carry is a sight to see.”
“I wish I could see it again from a different vantage point. It never lasts for long,” she muttered. Then she shook her head. “I still can’t believe that I failed Grandsire.”
“How is it that you failed him?” He stood in front of her and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek, her gaze locked on his.
“I was the one who knew he was in trouble. Do you not recall we were the ones who left Bruce’s camp first? I should have been able to catch Busby. Stop the bastard from taking him.” She massaged her forehead, sick with worry. Why hadn’t she anticipated that Busby would ride off with him? “He’s still out there with that sheriff.”
“Do you not recall that Loki stopped you?”
She hadn’t thought of that, but Derric was right. “True, but I still failed him. I—”
Dyna stopped, her eyes wide. They weren’t alone. Turning around, she heard another sound. She held a finger to her lips to tell Derric to stay quiet.
No one from the clan would be out here, they were too far outside the gates. She grabbed her bow and started to stalk away from the burn.
“Diamond?” Derric whispered, but she waved him back.
Then she saw him.
A gray-haired man ran away from them, climbing onto his horse’s back and heading in the opposite direction. Dyna ran back and leaped on her beast. “Sorry, Mid-Four,” she said, “but we have someone to chase after.”
“Who?” Derric shouted as he jumped on his horse to follow.
She yelled back to him over her shoulder. “My guess is that we’ve found my sister’s stalker.”
She pushed her horse and, to her surprise, caught up with the vagrant quickly. A few moments later, Derric appeared on the man’s other side.
He was an old man with long gray hair and a gray beard, something that she hadn’t expected at all. He had a decent mount so she guessed he wasn’t a reiver.
So who the hell was he?
The man looked from Dyna to Derric and wisely slowed his horse, coming to a stop between the two.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Dyna shouted.
The man was breathing too hard to answer. He didn’t speak quickly enough for her so Dyna reached over for the reins of his horse and said, “Fine. We’ll see what the Grant lairds think of you. And you better hope you’re not the man who’s been watching us.”
The man’s shoulders slumped, but he still didn’t say a word.
“What’s your name?”
He didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead.
“Answer me, fool,” Dyna commanded.
“I’ll not answer anyone until I see your laird and the mistress.”
“What do you want with the laird?” If she had her way, she’d slap the man until he spit out everything he knew.
The man stared straight ahead, and Derric said, “You best answer her or you’re about to feel the point of my sword, old man.”
Never looking at them, he muttered, “I’m on Grant land. One of the lairds is Connor Grant and his wife is Sela and they have a daughter named Claray. I came to see Sela. They know me.”
Dyna gasped. Claray hadn’t been imagining the man, after all. She’d always hoped her sister would be able to forget about the spiders one day. That she would find a man to marry so she could have bairns of her own. But the memories raged in her mind, tormenting her at unexpected times.
“You’ve been spying on my family!” she said. “I’ll pin you to a tree by your bollocks for hurting my sister.”
He offered neither a denial nor a retort, and Dyna felt a sudden gush of elation. Claray wasn’t as sick as she’d feared, and she’d actually caught her sister’s tormentor. When she made it to the gates, she said to the guards, “Open up. I have Claray’s stalker.”
Her prisoner said nothing, allowing her to lead the man into the keep. They rode past the stables, across the famous Grant courtyard, through the bailey, and came to a stop directly in front of the steps. Her sire appeared in front of her, Alasdair and Els behind him. “What the hell, daughter? Who is this man?”
“This is the man Claray saw watching her. I caught him on the edge of our land, and he says he knows you and Mama.”
Connor Grant stared at the man. “Your name?”
“I’d like to see your mistress first. Then I’ll give you my name.”
“Papa, don’t listen to him. Bring Claray out, see if