manâs eyes, for looking at the scars was both impolite and unsettling. âSheâs tied me up and forced noxious potions down my throat.â
âMmm. Cured you, though, didnât she?â
Duncan grunted.
âSometimes itâs handy having a witch about the place,â the girl said airily.
Damn, was she truly a witch? âIâve already thanked her for nursing me through the fever. But I really have to leave.â
âHeâs an orphan, Fergie, with no place to go.â
Duncan noted she called her formidable uncle by his first name, an honor Cousin Niall had denied his unwanted burden. âMy cousin is expecting me.â Another lie heâd have to confess. For a man who seldom sinned, he was amassing a large debt.
âHis cousin resents him,â Kara said.
Duncan started. âHow do you know that?â
âI just do.â
âWell.â Fergie rubbed a gnarled hand over the scar on his forehead. âIâll admit another fighting man would be welcome.â
âI wonât fight for you,â Duncan insisted.
âHe will.â Kara touched her uncleâs hand. âHeâs the one,â she murmured. âThe one I saw in the Beltane fires.â
âReally?â Fergieâs eyes widened, raking Duncan from head to bare feet and back. âAre you sure, lass?â
Kara nodded. âHe was wearing the metal shirt and carrying the long dirk.â She pointed to the sword in the corner.
âSee here,â Duncan shouted. âI donât know who you think I am, butââ
âYouâre the one the gods have sent to save us,â Kara said.
Blasphemy. âThe hell I am.â Duncan jerked on the ropes. âYou people are all mad.â He tugged again, barely feeling the hemp cut into his flesh. âMad. Let me go or Iâllââ
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âAre you sure about this, lass?â Fergie asked again.
âHave my visions ever been wrong?â
Visions. Holy Mother, have mercy. Duncanâs heart was pounding so loudly he could scarcely hear. âFilthy pagans.â
âHe doesnât seem to like us much,â Fergie mused. âHard to imagine him helping us.â
âHe will.â
âI wonât.â Duncan seethed with rage and frustration.
âLeave it to me, Fergie.â Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his scarred cheek. âWas the hunting successful?â
âAye. We took two roebuck. Dod and the others are skinning them in the courtyard. t should see they donât make a hash of it, but if you need me to stay...â
âNay. Iâll fetch his supper, then weâll discuss things.â She gave her uncle a dazzling smile. âMen are always more reasonable on a full stomach.â
âWell...â Fergie scowled thoughtfully at Duncan, then shrugged. âYouâve never failed us yet.â He chucked her under the chin, then sauntered out.
Kara turned that brilliant smile on Duncan. âThereâs fresh rabbit stew and boiled onions for supper. Iâll fetch you some.â
âI wonât stay...even if you ply me with roasted peacocks and almond paste.â
âI do not know what those things are, but you will stay.â
âYou cannot make me stay,â Duncan snarled.
âIâll wager I can,â said the little witch with a toss of her fiery curls. She walked from the room proud as a queen, her skirts swishing in time to the sway of her hips.
Despite his rage, the sight made an impression on the least discerning organ in Duncanâs body. Cursing it, and females in general, he went to work on the ropes. Imprisonment had been Cousin Niallâs favorite form of punishment, and Duncan had learned to rework knots at an early age.
Â
He was determined heâd not be here when the witch returned.
Â
Had she made a mistake? Was he not really the one?
Kara tapped a finger against her mouth.
He had not