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worthy of a warrior like Brenna’s babe?

As if feeling his stare, Kára met his gaze. Pieces of hair had worked their way out of her braid to frame her flushed face with her pale blond locks. They all must look exhausted from the night of adventure and danger. But the grin on her face, when she looked up from Brenna holding her newborn bairn, lit the darkness under her eyes. Kára Flett was beautiful, and something tightened in Joshua’s chest, something like a cord being tied into a taut knot. Or a noose, depending on how one looked at it.

She met him at the doorway, pulling him into the main room. Even with the heat from the fire, the main room was not nearly as stuffy as the bedchamber. Kára dropped his hand. “Thank you for getting Hilda and for holding Brenna up there.”

“We were fortunate your healer was easy to locate, and we could escape on horseback without too much trouble.” Was John Dishington dead or merely knocked out? Would Robert know instantly, from having learned that Joshua was in his palace, that he was responsible?

“Without too much trouble,” she murmured. Was she worried Robert would retaliate today? She frowned, her gaze moving from his eyes to his lips. Turning, she yanked a rag off a shelf and rubbed hard there and on his cheek. “Jean’s lip rouge.” And continued down his neck as if she wished to scrape his skin off along with the red stain.

Joshua caught her hand to stop it. “I did not initiate—”

“Not on a mission, I know. You have more honor than that,” she said and tipped her chin up. “But it still looks ugly on you.”

He agreed. If he were to wear red, he’d prefer blood of a victorious battle to the smear of red lip rouge of a deceptive tryst.

She lowered her hand but didn’t move away. “I should go back to help. It is tradition that we guard the babe for a few days and nights, taking turns rocking the cradle while Brenna sleeps.”

He frowned. “Who would steal it?” The thought that someone might come during the night to take a bairn made Joshua’s muscles clench. He would cleave anyone trying to take the wee lad who had blinked up at him and held his thumb tightly.

“The same fae folk or trolls who would have harmed him while Brenna was pregnant. We will have the christening in another day to help protect the babe, too, especially since Calder brought the minister.” She smiled. “And we will have a wedding feast along with the blide-maet.” She shook her head. “There is much to do and with Lord Robert possibly attacking after we took Hilda…”

Joshua could not stop himself. He pulled her to him with a hand around her back, sliding it along the gentle arc above her hips. “I will stay to make sure no one harms Brenna or her son.”

Hope spread across Kára’s face, and he realized what he had said. He cleared his throat. “I will stay through Samhain and show your warriors how to protect themselves if attacked.”

The hope faded as she stared up into his eyes. She gave a little nod, lowering her gaze to his chest. “Not if attacked. When attacked,” she said softly and tipped her head back again to meet his eyes. “Because it is coming. Retaliation is something of which Lord Robert is quite fond.”

She shut her eyes then. “I need to go back to Brenna,” she said, and he slowly released her. Without looking at him again, Kára turned and strode back into the bedchamber.

He almost went after her, pulling her to him and not letting go until she understood what he had seen before. Did she know what could be worse than them hiding under the earth or leaving their home? Truly know? The wailing of those remaining as they fell over their slaughtered loved ones?

In South Ronaldsay no one but John Dishington talked about who had won and who had lost. Even if the numbers tallied in Joshua’s favor, they had all lost. Aye, he had won, but Joshua had truly learned what it meant to lose that day and night that saw not only men die, but lads as well. He shook his head. “I will not lead them to death.”

Chapter Ten

“Treat your men as you would your own

beloved sons. And they will follow

you into the deepest valley.”

Sun Tzu – The Art of War

Joshua walked out into the dawning light, the black of the night sky turning into a deep blue. A figure pushed off the side of the hill next to another partially hidden door.

“Joshua,” Pastor John said. “The bairn and mother?”

“Are well.”

“Praise the good Lord,” he murmured. “You did a mighty fine job helping. I have seen a few horse births, but that down in there… It was much more…well, everything.” He inhaled as if to fortify himself against a memory that would haunt him. “Life is a messy business.”

Joshua stretched his arms overhead, trying to rid himself of some stiffness. “Did Cain send ye to Orkney to see what mischief I was making?”

Pastor John grinned. “He said as much, but I think he worries about you.”

“Ye can tell him I am whole and sound and will return soon.” He crossed his arms. “How goes life at Girnigoe? Has Cain kept control of Varrich Castle and the MacKay Clan? Are the Sutherlands still our allies with young Jamie and his regent in control of Dunrobin Castle?”

Pastor John nodded. “There is peace, the first I have ever seen there. The Sutherlands are practicing with Sinclair warriors with your youngest brother, Bàs, leading the training sessions. Gideon has plans to move into Varrich Castle to keep the MacKay Clan in line. So far, the MacKays seem to be happy the wicked steward and foolish young chief are no more. Oh, and Lady Ella is with child.”

Joshua dropped his arms, a smile relaxing his face.

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