looked as large in her vision, nor as angry. In her vision, heâd smiled and laughed and looked on her with approval, not revulsion. But the clothes of silver metal and the long dirk were right. And the face...there was no way she could have mistaken it. Duncan had the rough-hewn features of a warrior and the eyes of a lonely child. Those troubled eyes called out to the healer in her. The rest of him, his big, muscular body, his ruggedly handsome face, awakened strong feelings of a different sort. Womanly feelings.
Sheâd never been drawn to a man before. Oh, sheâd laughed and bantered with the men of the clan, and fluttered her lashes in fair imitation of her friend Brighde. But sheâd never cared what any man thought of her.
Till now. She minded terribly that Duncan hated her.
Why did he? Sheâd risked her life to save his, nursed him through two days and nights, yet he sneered at her. Called her pagan and witch as though she were cursed.
Was he truly the one?
Kara stared at the leaping fire in the kitchen hearth. But no vision came.
âHere you are, then. Thereâs more if he can eat it,â added Black Rolly. He held out a tray set with a bowl of savory stew, brown bread and a cup of ale. The tray looked tiny in his big, warriorâs hands. Heâd smashed his leg the same night Fergie had nearly lost his eye. Sheâd stitched them both up, not daring to hope theyâd live. But they were strong and adaptable. With his fighting days over, Rolly had taking up something he liked. Cooking.
âIt smells wonderful, but donât be surprised if he canât finish it all. Heâs still recovering.â In his present state of rage, he might refuse to eat at all. She had to do something to change that. How were they to win against the MacGorys if their appointed savior refused to play his part?
She took the tray, then hesitated. In his youth, Rolly had left Edin to ride in Border raids against the English. Heâd even been to King Williamâs court in Edinburgh and knew much of the outside world. âRolly, do you know what a Cru...Crusader is?â
âAye.â He leaned his bad hip against the worktable. âTheyâre knights whoâve sworn to free Jerusalem from the grip of the Infidels.â
âAre they bad people, these Infidels?â
âWorse than the MacGorys. They dinna believe in God.â
âOh.â
âAnd they cut out the hearts of those who do.â
Kara gasped. âThey must be fierce, indeed. He was wounded fighting them.â
âDuncan?â
Kara nodded. âHeâs a strange man, full of pride and anger. For all heâs weak as a new colt, he hates having us do for him. I fear I had to tie him up to keep him from injuring himself, which only made things worse. He thinks we are pagans.â
âSome Crusaders have deep religious convictions.â Rolly told her briefly about the training a knight went through, and the vow he made before God when he was knighted. âThey pledge to protect the weak and vanquish the oppressors.â
âThat is good, we are being oppressed by the MacGorys. And we did save his life.â Kara repeated that as she trudged up the narrow stairs. If the one thing didnât convince him to help, mayhap the other would.
She reached the second floor and found all was dark and shadowy. The torch at the near end of the corridor had burned out again. Poor Dod, Edinâs steward, was growing forgetful. When sheâd finished with Duncan, sheâd set one of Dodâs grandsons to replenishing the torches. Covertly, so Dodâs pride wasnât hurt.
She nudged the door open with her hip, took a deep breath and pasted on a smile. âWell, here we are....â
She stopped and gaped at the empty bed.
The savior of Edin Valley had slipped his bounds and fed.
Chapter Three
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F rom his hiding place under the bed, Duncan listened with grim