Hannah nodded to Imus as she passed by him. It seemed impossible to believe that Imus would betray Slain. He had stood with axe in hand at any sign of trouble, ready to defend Slain and the clan. And what of Blair? Hannah could not comprehend the woman betraying her clan. Or did she know anything about what Imus was doing? If she looked at it another way, could it possibly be that Imus was making it appear that he betrayed Slain, but that he actually was gathering information for Slain?

She shook her head, not knowing what to believe. Imus had no reason to betray Slain or did he? Did he feel Slain could not defend the clan and so he sought out help from someone who he believed could? And what of Helice? Did she protect Slain or did she blame him for her daughter’s death?

Hannah simply did not know enough to reach a conclusion, though her husband would probably remind her to trust him. But did he know what was going on here? Her father had always said that Slain MacKewan was not only a skilled warrior but a wise one.

Do you trust me?

She did trust him, but did she trust those around him? Slain certainly seemed to trust Helice, and Imus seemed a friend. She hurried her footsteps, wanting to see what she could learn from Blair.

Some of the villagers acknowledged her with a bob of the head while others turned their heads away.

“Some believe you while others think you came here to trap our chief. Which is it?”

Hannah turned to see Blair standing there with her arms crossed over her ample chest and a slight scowl marring her brow. “I came here with no such intentions of hurting the clan or Slain. I only wanted a safe place to hide from my step-brother. I never imagined falling in love with the Chief of the Clan MacKewan and now I cannot imagine life without him.”

Blair’s scowl turned to a smile. “That was all I needed to hear confirmed, since you can see the love in your eyes for him and you have the courage it takes to be his wife. They needed reminding of how you saved Potsman from the savage and how you calmed the savage. You are good for him and they will learn that in time.” Blair hooked arms with her. “Come and have a brew with me.”

Hannah followed along with her, eager to speak with Blair, but careful how she went about it. “Have you and Imus always been part of the Clan MacKewan?”

“Born and raised,” Blair said with pride.

“Then Imus knows Slain well.”

“They have been friends since they were bairns. They have shared good times and bad together, including the loss of Slain’s parents. They had treated Imus like a son, he having lost his parents to a fever when he was young. His grandmother was there for him, but it was Slain’s parents who saw to raising him.”

“They do not seem to spend much time together,” Hannah said, thinking how she had never seen them exchange more than a few words.

“It might seem that way, but their friendship is strong, built even stronger over the years.”

Hannah was glad to know that, it made her less suspicious of Imus.

“They both love their clan and would do anything to keep it safe.”

Upon hearing that, her suspicion sparked once again. Would Imus think Slain incapable of keeping the clan safe and have turned to someone who he thought could provide the clan with protection? Or was his friendship with Slain too strong to ever betray him?

“Your step-brother truly sold you?” Blair asked once they were inside her cottage sharing a brew.

Hannah was relieved to share the truth with Blair. It had been a heavy burden to carry and she was glad to be free of it.

Blair shook her head after hearing all Hannah had to say. “Nial is an evil one and, in the end, Slain will make sure he gets what he deserves.”

“I do not want blood shed because of me.” Hannah was quick to say.

“It is not only because of you Slain will see Nial dead. His hatred is already strong for the man. It is vengeance Slain seeks for his parents and the clan, and the clan will celebrate the day it comes to pass.”

Hannah leaned forward at the table, her hands cupped around a tankard. Curious and concerned, she asked, “What did my step-brother do?”

Blair shook her head slowly, sadness filling her eyes. “Remember when I told you about a young warrior who talked Slain’s father into emptying his coffers to help aid in battles that would benefit the Clan MacKewan?”

A rash of anxious tingles raced over Hannah as she nodded, fearing what Blair would say.

“It was Nial. He lied and robbed William and the clan of all the coin and treasures Slain had earned fighting alongside Warrick. All of us believe that it was what turned Slain’s mum, Leala, ill and brought on her death. William was not the same after his wife died and no one was surprised when he died shortly after her. Nial robbed Slain of everything.” Blair wiped a lingering tear from the corner of her one eye.

Hannah remained silent, at a loss of what to say.

“Slain will see Nial suffer for what he did and he will deserve every moment of pain.”

Hannah took lingering steps back to the keep, thinking over what Blair had told her. She wondered if her father knew what Nial had done and if he had condoned such deception? She hoped the heavy gray skies covered her shame for it weighed heavily upon her for her step-brother’s misdeeds.

The keep was quiet upon her return, Imus and his men having finished for the day thanks to the dark clouds that promised imminent rain. Hannah draped her cloak over the bench near the fireplace glad for the fire’s warmth since a chill ran through her.

“Where have you been?”

Hannah jumped and turned at Helice’s scolding tone. “I went to the village.”

“You are supposed to rest and have the comfrey poultice applied to your bruise,” Helice continued to scold. “Slain has enough to worry about without worrying about you. You should pay your husband’s situation more heed and do as he directs. And you need to eat more, since he worries you do not eat enough.”

Hannah stared at the woman, for the first time looking through her prickly nature, as Neata suggested, and seeing the woman differently. Helice cared for Slain and Hannah believed the ornery woman cared for her as well. In a way, Helice reminded her of her mum, abrupt and to the point, no nonsense about anything. Funny that she had not noticed that before now and her heart softened toward the woman.

She voiced one of her thoughts. “You care for Slain.”

“His is a good man,” Helice said as if it was explanation itself.

Hannah realized then that Slain had done something that had made him a hero in the woman’s mind. “What did Slain do for you, Helice, that you care for him as you would a son?”

Helice’s chin went up. “He made a wish of mine come true. Now you will go upstairs to your bedchamber and rest while I prepare the comfrey poultice for your bruise.”

“Could I get a chamomile brew and some bread and cheese along with that? I find myself hungry.”

“Good, then you will finally eat as you should,” Helice said and turned, walking out of the Great Hall, though calling back as she did, “afterwards you will remain in bed and rest.”

Hannah had to smile. The cantankerous woman was looking after her in her own way, and it felt almost as good as when her mum would order her about and look after her when she was ill. Something she had missed greatly.

She stretched out on the bed, wondering over the wish her husband had fulfilled for Helice. It had to have had something to do with her daughter. She wished she could find out more, but both Helice and Slain were tight-lipped about it. Perhaps time would change that.

Hannah laid still as Helice applied the poultice, noticing what a tender hand she had and how focused she remained on the task.

“I will bring drink and food shortly. In the meantime, you will lie still and let the poultice help you,” Helice ordered.

“I could use a brief rest,” Hannah said, a small yawn proving the need for one.

The day wore on with Helice tending Hannah, which the woman seemed to enjoy doing. She fussed over her, encouraged her to eat, though it did not take much since Hannah found herself hungry.

It was evening, twilight barely noticeable with the dark sky bringing promise of a rainstorm when Hannah asked Helice, “Has there been any word from Slain?”

“Not yet, but he will be home some time tonight,” Helice assured her.

“How can you be so sure?”

“It is obvious he does not want to be away from you,” Helice said, tucking the blanket around Hannah’s waist where she sat in bed. Where Helice had insisted she stay and rest most of the day. “And it is good you were finally honest with him, though you delayed it far too long. You should have trusted him.”

“I was frightened,” Hannah admitted.

“Slain will protect you. He will always protect you. Now rest,” Helice ordered for the umpteenth time that day.

Surprisingly, her jaw and lip were far less painful than they had been and the rest had proven helpful as well, her arm causing her no discomfit and the few aches she suffered had disappeared.

“Thank you for looking after me, Helice,” Hannah said and the woman stopped before reaching the door.

Helice turned. “It is my duty to look after you, but it is also an honor. You are a courageous woman with an understanding heart, keep strong hold of both, for you will need them. And never forget how much Slain loves you.”

Why did Hannah feel as if the woman was warning her about something?

Secrets.

There were still secrets to discover about Slain and this keep, but what would they matter? She loved him and nothing would stop her from loving him.

Hannah closed her eyes, wishing her husband was there beside her and she was wrapped in his arms. She had slept a full night with him only once, but it had been enough to know that she never wanted to sleep without him again.

The strength of his arms, the warmth of his body, his gentle breath against her face, she sighed at the remembrance and soon after fell asleep.

A clap of thunder woke her and she sat up, her heart beating madly and her eyes searching the room. The fire looked as if fresh logs had been added to it so she could not tell how long she had slept, and the door sat ajar.

Someone had been in the room.

Had Slain returned home?

She pushed the covers off her, swinging her legs off the bed and standing. She took light steps across the room to the door and cautiously peeked around it. A faint light flickered from the wall sconce, otherwise the narrow area was empty. She was about to turn around and return to bed when her eye caught something.

The door to the east wing sat ajar.

It was always locked. Why was it open now? Who was in there? Or what was in there that Slain did not want anyone to see?

She told herself to go back to bed and leave the east wing alone with its secrets. That, however, was something difficult, near impossible, for her to do. She quietly hurried across the wood floor to the door and slowly peeked her head around it.

Her breath caught at what she saw… a gigantic bat, its wings spread wide, eyes glowing red, flying straight at her.

She turned to run and ran right into the edge of the door with such force that she feared she would lose consciousness. Though not from the knock to her head, but from the sudden arm that coiled around her waist and the black wing that all but smothered her.

Though lightheaded, instinct had her fighting. She tore at the wing that cocooned her as she struggled to free herself. She gasped as she felt herself lifted as if the creature was taking flight and she fought harder.

“Stop!”

The creature’s voice was muffled near her ear, but she paid him no mind. She would not stop fighting. She would not let him take her away from Slain.

“Stop!”

She would never surrender. Never.