The Ghost by Greyson, Maeve (best motivational books to read .txt) 📕
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Her gaze shifted to the ominous column of gray growing ever wider the higher it billowed. “Aye, we should. I would feel easier knowing ye’re not riding alone into whatever lies past that ridge.”
That settled it. He locked eyes with Keigan. “Keep at my side and ride hard, ye ken?”
The child gave a quick nod, then turned his horse back toward the keep.
It took them half the time to cross the glen as it had before. “Sound the alarm,” Magnus shouted to the guards manning the barbican. It might be rash, but he didn’t care. The horns would bring Alexander running, so they could be on their way.
“Ye will be safe and return to me,” Brenna ordered as she grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him over for another kiss. “Swear it!”
“I swear I shall do my damnedest, my fierce love.” He kissed her hard, just as Alexander charged out of the inner bailey, already armed and astride his horse.
“Who attacks?” he shouted as he spared a glance at Brenna and Keigan hurrying their mounts inside the protection of the skirting walls.
“We have yet to discover that.” Magnus motioned him forward. “With any luck, no one.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Ye will see.” Magnus turned his mount toward the glen and spurred him into a hard gallop.
They thundered toward the smoke, now visible as soon as they reached the other side of the village of Ruadh.
Halting just before they topped the last rise, they studied the landscape, noting every sound and swaying blade of grass.
“None of our people live this close to Fort William,” Alexander mused, resettling himself in the saddle.
“All I know in this area are the shelters for the herders.” Magnus unsheathed his sword. His steel at the ready always made him feel better. He urged his horse onward. Enough wondering. Time to find out.
It was as they thought. The trio of shelters, as well as a wagon left from the last time the herders had passed through, crackled and roared with raging flames.
Magnus sheathed his sword and drew his pistol instead. Alexander did the same. Too much of the three structures still stood upright. Whoever had started the fire couldn’t be that far away. With a nod toward a pine-tarred torch hissing and popping in the sedge, Magnus circled the carnage, more to study the surroundings than to look at the blaze. He had already seen enough to know the thing had been set. This was no act of stray lightning.
“Who would do this and why?” Alexander cast a murderous glare toward Fort William.
They both suspected the same culprit. The new garrison commander. A hater of Scots and, from what they had heard about the man, stupid enough to believe that such an act would trigger Clan MacCoinnich into reacting rashly. Idiot Sassenach. When a Scot sought revenge, he took his sweet time, savored it, and planned well, so it became a fine story to tell his bairns on a long winter’s night.
“The better question is, what shall we do about it?” Magnus said.
“Precautions,” was Alexander’s only reply as he turned his horse back in the direction of the keep while still holding his pistol at the ready. His one word spoke volumes.
Magnus understood completely. He had fought at Alexander’s side long enough to know they would not ignore this attack. “And what shall we tell the people?”
“The truth as we know it.” Alexander urged his mount forward. “This side of the glen is no longer safe and should be avoided until I decide otherwise.”
“Ye know they dinna call me the ghost just because of my pale skin and hair?” Magnus shoved his pistol back in his belt. Instinct told him they were now safe since they had ridden to the center of the glen, and the village was in full view. The coward who had set the fire wouldn’t dare risk an attack this close. “Perhaps, a few night wanderings are in order. Maybe even a visit inside Fort William itself,” he said, rubbing his chin as he plotted. “I’ve been there before. ’Twould be easy enough to slip in, listen for a while, and then slip back out.”
With a squinting glance back at the smoke, Alexander shook his head as his mount slowed. “I’m none too sure about that plan.” He sidled a glance toward Magnus. “If I get ye killed afore Catriona’s had the chance to see ye wed and expecting another bairn, there’ll be hell to pay for certain. Besides—I want them to think we Scots are a bit slow. Nothing cripples an enemy more than when he underestimates his prey.”
While Magnus agreed, he still felt it wouldn’t hurt to gather as much information as he could. Chances were since there was nothing else on that stretch of the border to burn, there would be no further trouble. At least not from that direction. But it never hurt to watch things for a day or so. “No one will know I’m about. I’ve done such a thing a thousand times and never been caught. Ye ken that well enough.” As they rode through the barbican, he thumped a fist to his chest. “And I swear to do nothing that endangers yer arse when it comes to yer wife, aye?”
“Ye best not,” Alexander warned. “Because mine willna be the only arse at risk.”
While Magnus looked forward to revisiting his old days of sneaking about to gather information, what Alexander hinted at was sobering. If Brenna got wind of what he was about to do, she would not like it, and that could be—unpleasant.
Chapter Ten
Every child in the keep crowded the corner of the large open rooftop of the tower. Well, almost every child, as near
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