the world and we had ceased to breed. My father was the first child born to them in forty years and he had but one child with an Outsider. We were slowly dying, like some mythical creatures.”
“We are what ye are calling Outsiders, arenae we?” asked Brona, getting the distinct feeling that with at least some of his clan that was a grave insult.
“Aye, and up until our laird made that decision we had as little to do with ye as possible,” Heming said. “My mother’s clan has its own secrets. They are descended from a druid shape-shifter, a woman who could become a cat. If ye met her and her clan ye wouldnae finds that so hard to believe e’en though they dinnae change anymore. Those qualities havenae all been bred out. We now think that there will always be a bit of both in a Callan and MacNachton child, and that all of what makes us MacNachtons willnae e’er disappear completely.”
“And do ye really live forever?”
“Nay, but we do live a verra, verra long time. We are nay sure just how long for too many of our Elders eventually grow weary of life and make an end to it. The laird’s father courted death at every turning after his Outsider mate died and it finally embraced him. We can be killed, as ye have seen, for I was verra close to that fate. I had lost too much blood and ’tis near impossible for a MacNachton to recover from that. Unlike Outsiders, though, we can count the ways we can be killed. The grave loss of blood, as weel as beheading, fire, and the sun.”
“Ye cannae go out into the day?” Fergus asked.
Heming could see that Fergus was thinking of demons again. “A Pureblood cannae. We Halflings are nay so troubled as they are, or most of us arenae. I cannae go out in the full of the day when the sun is at its strongest, shining brightly. ’Tis as if it sucks all the life right out of me. Long enough beneath its light and a MacNachton will die, the more pure of blood they are, the faster it happens. We dinnae ken why God made us so, but it isnae such a bad thing. What we are not are creatures who take souls or devour bairns or any of that. Aye, in the olden times we werenae so verra weel behaved but it was a brutal time for all, aye? All I can do is swear that we dinnae take souls and we dinnae treat all who live about Cambrun as cattle for the slaughter.” He shrugged. “We are different. That is all.”
“As Mistress Brona is different,” said Fergus.
Brona tensed and stared at Fergus. “What do ye mean?”
“That gift that ye have with animals. ’Tis as if ye speak to them and them to ye. As Old Annie is different, aye? She can see things the rest of us cannae, such as what will happen.”
Deciding the safest thing to do was to simply not argue with that and change the subject, Brona turned to Colin and asked, “So ye think we can get out of Rosscurrach tonight?”
“Aye,” replied Colin. “The laird has left the keep verra lightly guarded, the fool. And, I promise ye, now that the laird’s gone, the guard upon the walls willnae be so vigilant.”
“Then we go tonight. Do ye take your family away from here?”
“Nay. We have seen our mother and she says they are all safe enough. Fergus and I will go with ye, mistress. Ye shouldnae travel alone.”
“I shall go with ye as weel,” said Peter. “Exactly where do ye mean to go?”
“Weel, I had thought to go to my aunt’s,” Brona said quietly, a little alarmed that she had not yet made a clear plan for what to do once she left Rosscurrach.
It was foolish not to have a clear plan for her own escape, but Brona knew that was not completely her fault. She had lived a very secluded life. Her parents had kept her close out of fear of losing their only surviving child and Hervey simply had no interest in taking her anywhere. Brona now wondered if that was because her cousin had always planned to have her marry Angus. The result of all that seclusion meant she had very few people she could turn to for help and she also had very little idea of how to travel to them.
“Weel, ye cannae do that now as they have gone searching for ye there. So, where else can ye go?”
Brona frantically searched her mind for an answer but she could not find one. She could not even think of a clever lie that would soothe their obvious concern for her. All four men stared at her, waiting for an answer that would not come. It did not surprise her when they all slowly began to scowl at her.
“Ye dinnae have another plan, do ye, Brona,” said Heming.
She sighed, seeing no hope in making him believe some lie even if she could think of one. “Nay, I fear not. If naught else, I simply dinnae ken verra many people outside of Rosscurrach. I am sure I can find some place to hide, however.”
“Ye will come to Cambrun with me.”
“Och, nay, I couldnae do that.”
“Afraid ye will become a meal, are ye?”
“Nay, of course not. ’Tis just that ye and your clan have enough trouble to deal with. Ye dinnae need to have to worry about me as weel. And I might weel bring Hervey kicking at your door.”
“Let him. ’Twill save me the trouble of hunting him down. Ye will come to Cambrun.”
She opened her mouth to argue with him and quickly closed it again. There really was no argument to be made. She could go with him or she could wander about the countryside trying to find some place safe to hide until Hervey was no longer murderously angry at her and Angus had left Rosscurrach or died so that he was no longer a threat. She did not think the men frowning at her right now would see the latter as a very sound plan. The tone of command in Heming’s voice, however, made her feel compelled to disagree and she knew she was scowling at him.
“Mayhap we best give ye two a minute or so to discuss this,” murmured Colin. “We will just take the dog for a wee walk. Come along, Thor,” he said to the dog as Peter and Fergus stepped out of the room. As he started to follow them, Thor at his side, Colin looked down to see the cat walking at his other side. “Weel, I see that we will be taking Havoc for a walk as weel.”
Brona had to smile as she watched her pets march off with Colin. Then Heming grasped her by the hand, sat down on his pallet, and pulled her down beside him. She felt the hint of a blush touch her cheeks and was not sure why. They had been sharing the chamber for five days so a moment or two alone should not make her feel so uncertain.
“Ye dinnae have anyone ye can go to, do ye, lass?” Heming asked quietly.
She sighed, hating to admit the sad truth. “Nay, save for my aunt, and I cannae go there now, can I? Aye, I have a few other kin, though we arenae close, but I cannae be sure how to get to their homes. I fear I have been kept verra secluded, verra sheltered. First by my parents and then by the fact that Hervey seems to prefer it if I stay out of sight most of the time.”
Although Heming wanted to keep her at his side, he knew it was only fair to discuss any other choices she might have. Not doing so was the kind of subterfuge that could come back round and bite him in the end. He would give her what few choices she had and then try to talk her out of taking any except coming to Cambrun with him.
“Mayhap the easiest thing ye could do is stay right here until ye are certain your cousin is no longer so angry.”
“I dinnae think there is much chance of avoiding punishment for what I have done if I stay near Hervey. He may nay remain so furious he would wish to kill
