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Lia focused on the man sprawled on the ground in the place where she had been sitting. His head was covered in blood and his clothing was ripped to shreds.
    “Nay!” the man cried, holding up his hands, also scraped and bloody. “Mercy! I beg of ye!”
    For an instant, Lia was certain Robert meant to kill the man. “Wait!”
    But Robert only grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. “What mean ye, attackin’ the lassie like that?”
    “I didna attack her,” the man blubbered. “I only sought her help.”
    “Her help?” Connell asked, his dagger still in hand, his other arm stretched backward, keeping her behind him.
    “All ken ye bring a healer. I beg of ye, I was attacked!”
    “Attacked?” Robert asked in confusion.
    “The Demon Laird! He stalks the trails at night attackin’ those who canna find haven after dark.”
    “The what?” Robert asked, his face paling.
    “The Demon Laird! He attacked me. I ran, tryin’ tae reach safety, but he found me on the trail. I saw yer campfire. I beg yer help.”
    Connell cursed softly and returned his dagger.
    “Lassie?”
    “I will help him.” She pointed to a log, bidding her heart to stop pounding so hard. She had work to do. “Sit and I will check your wounds.”
    Robert nearly tossed him in the direction of the log.
    “Robert,” Connell said.
    “Aye,” he replied . Before Connell could say anything more, Robert again vanished into the trees.
    “ Pray forgive me,” the man said as Lia crouched to examine him. “I live in the village not far from the castle. The tales of the Demon Laird stalking the land at night have grown mightily. I didna believe them, but I was caught outside at sunset... I… I believe them now.”
    “How do ye ken it was the Demon Laird and not a common cutthroat?” Connell asked.
    “His hounds.”
    Connell’s face lost color and he stared at the man in disbelief. “Hounds?”
    “The Demon Laird’s hounds tracked me as I tried tae get back tae the village.”
    Robert abruptly reappeared from the forest. “I saw blood on some rocks. Ye fell?”
    “Aye,” the man said nodding vigorously. “The Demon Laird’s bloody he llhounds chased me. I fell down a slope in a rocky ravine. I saw yer campfire and ran tae ye. Fortunately, the hounds didna pursue.”
    Lia finished examining him and rose. The wounds only supported part of the man’s tall tale. She stepped to her medicants and packs, withdrawing clean bandages. Connell and Robert stepped with her.
    “I found where he fell,” Robert said tightly. “And spotted the tracks of dogs.”
    “Dogs or wolves?” Connell asked.
    “Dogs, most likely feral. By the look of the track, they werena large enough tae be wolves.”
    “ Shadows probably spooked him,” Lia said. “His wounds were most likely caused from falling on the rocks, not by any attack.”
    Connell breathed a sigh of relief. “It worries me the tales the common folk have devised in our absence.”
    “Aye,” Robert said. “The MacGrigor was once loved by all . That they could turn on him so quickly is troublesome indeed.”
    “Look at it this way,” Lia murmured , “at least you know your laird is still alive.”
    ****
    The voices were silent now, but Ronan’s heart still slammed against his ribs. He couldn’t remember anything of the attack except that he had a sense he had struggled to breathe and had nearly choked. His throat hurt. But he was grateful for the silence. He blinked open his eyes, struggling to pull his blurred vision together. He was on the floor again, but this time he knew it was the floor of his own solar.
    His vision partially focused on his hand outstretched before him. He had to get up and get himself back into bed. His body ached against the hard wood. But as he told his body to move, it refused.
    His heart pounded harder and fear snaked through him. Nay, no reason tae panic. His blackouts as a child had been similar. He had always struggled to get his body to obey him afterward.