Ewan and Gabriel returned to Castle Cathan at dusk the next day. The entire way home, Ewan had thought about what he would say. How to break the news to his sister. He knew she’d be waiting. Hopeful. Fearful. Sadly, her hopes were about to be destroyed, her worst fears confirmed.
Sure enough, they’d hardly had time to steer their horses through the castle gates before Morag flew across the courtyard to greet them, her step faltering as she drew near.
“Where is he? Did you find him?” Chest heaving, she looked past them as if expecting to see Ruaidri. When Duncan closed the gates, she turned to Ewan, her eyes wide, her expression full of expectation and fear.
“We found his horse, Morag,” Ewan said, dismounting. “Dead on the rocks below the path.”
“Goliath?” She hugged herself and let out a soft cry. “What about Ruaidri?”
“I found only this.” Ewan held out the brooch. “And his cloak. You’re shivering, lass. Come on inside, where it’s warm.”
As if in a trance, Morag took the brooch and examined it, stumbling as she fell into step beside Ewan. He bit back a sigh and tucked her free hand into his arm.
Duncan also fell into step beside them. “Ewan?” he murmured, the unspoken part of his question quite clear. Ewan shook his head in answer and the man let out a soft groan and crossed himself. “God have mercy,” he said, his voice faltering. “God have mercy.”
Others had already begun to gather on the steps, their expressions bleak, their voices silent. They stepped aside as Ewan and Morag entered.
“You may give them the news, Duncan,” Ewan said. “Tell them I’ll speak to them in a wee while. For now, I need some time alone with my sister.”
He shepherded Morag into Ruaidri’s private chamber, where she tugged her hand free of his arm. “Where’s Ruaidri, Ewan?” She trembled visibly as she clutched the silver cloak pin to her breast.
At that moment, from somewhere outside, came the distant howl of a wolf. Wondering if he’d imagined the beast’s ominous timing, Ewan cast a glance at shuttered window. The sound of a second howl brushed a chill across his nape.
“I told you, wee lass,” he said. “We found his horse, dead in a gully. Fallen from the mountain path.”
Her lip quivered. “Aye, I heard that. But where’s our brother?”
Ewan knew she sought a different answer to that given earlier, that her mind refused to accept the terrible truth.
“I found no trace of him other than his cloak.” Ewan gestured to Morag’s clenched fist. “And that silver pin.”
“Then—” A flicker of hope flared in her eyes as she looked past him, her sight obviously turned inward. “Then he might still be alive. Injured. Waiting for us to find him.”
“Morag—”
“Waiting for us to find him and bring him home.” Her gaze met Ewan’s again. “You have to go back, Ewan. You have to find him.”
Christ help me. “There’s no chance of him being found alive, lass. Not after this long.”
Her chest heaved. “But how can you say that? You cannae be certain.”
“Aye, I can. Harsh weather aside, Ruaidri’s cloak was drenched in blood. And…” He released a sigh. “Wolves have been at the horse. Some of its bones have been scattered. From what I saw, I suspect the same fate befell our brother.”
Morag hiccupped on a sob and shook her head. “But… you cannae just leave him out there all alone! Please, Ewan.”
Ewan groaned and cupped her cheek, catching a tear with his thumb. “His remains could be anywhere, Morag, but his soul is in God’s care now. He’ll never be alone again.”
“Are…” She swallowed. “Are you certain he no longer lives?”
“I’m certain, wee lass. I’d no’ be here if I thought there was any chance he’d still be alive. I’d be out there, looking for him.”
“Aye, of… of course you would.” She drew a shaky breath and looked down at the brooch, still cradled in her palm. “Then I pray he didnae suffer too much.”
“I have prayed for the same.”
Still regarding the brooch, she fell silent for a few moments, though Ewan could almost hear the whispers of unspoken thoughts in her head.
“I told you so,” she said at last, meeting Ewan’s gaze once more. “Before he even left, I had a bad feeling. I pleaded with him not to go, but he wouldnae listen. He promised me… he promised me he’d be back soon.”
“And I’m sure he meant it. But something obviously went wrong.”
“’Tis all my fault.”
“Dinnae say that.”
“But it is.” Her face crumpled. “Oh, Ewan, I cannae bear it. I’ll miss him so much.”
Ewan sighed and took her in his arms, rocking her gently as she wept.
As will I. Nay, as have I. And now it’s too late to change that, may God forgive me.
Sniffling, she peered up at him. “Do you think Alastair MacAulay had anything to do with this?”
“I saw no proof of it.”
“’Tis not what I asked.”
He grimaced. “To say I dinnae have suspicions would be a lie, but I’m no’ sure they’re justified. I dinnae like the man much, which is likely clouding my judgement.”
“Well, guilty or no’, there’ll be no alliance ’tween our clans now.”
“’Tis not what Alastair said. He reckons the agreement should still stand.”
“I dinnae see how.” She shuddered. “Please dinnae make me marry the man, Ewan. I cannae even imagine—”
“I’ll not let that happen, wee lass, have no fear. You need never worry about Alastair MacAulay. He and his hound are away back to Dunraven, and I doubt we’ll be seeing either of them again for a good while. Right now, we have more important things to think about. We need to honour and mourn our brother, for one.”
“I still cannae grasp that he’s gone.” Morag’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she regarded the silver pin once more. “I thank God for sending you back to us, Ewan. I dread to think what would have become of us otherwise.”
Ewan bit back a sigh. It did seem as though his return home had been orchestrated, somehow. And something told him the challenges he faced had only just begun.