"What d'ye expect from them, courtly manners?" "They've been hardened by their pasts," Cailean told him, turning back to the road. "Men who kick children oot of their way?"Ĭailean glanced over his shoulder at the brothers, who had arrived at Lyon's Ridge a fortnight ago to join Lord Murdoch's band of mercenaries, the Black Riders. "These are the men ye chose over yer kin?" He shook his head at him. Patrick moved his horse closer to Cailean's. "They'd be disappointed by yours, Erik," said Erik's brother, Dougal, riding at his left.
"The waifs will likely rob us the moment we remove our purses." "What?" He chuckled again when Patrick glowered at him. "I think the boy shite his breeches," Erik MacCormack laughed from his saddle behind them, then kicked another lad out of his way. "It might do ye some good to have the cockles of yer heart warmed."Ĭailean didn't acknowledge his cousin's good-natured suggestion but kept his eyes on the icy road before them. "Ye should take the bath," Patrick MacGregor said, catching up. It didn't matter what the circumstances were. Cailean didn't look back at the child and he didn't seek forgiveness for not caring. The boy swallowed and jumped out of the way of the three riders following him. "A warm bath then, mayhap, to shed ye of the dust of travelin'?"Ĭailean Grant looked down from his horse and cast a scathing glance at the lad about to reach for his reins.
0 kommentar(er)
