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the left of her, but was free of human habitation.
“Come, we must get you inside at once,” she said, turning to
Callum.
    “Bmm...mmm,” Callum replied.
    With a sigh and a shake of her head, she
placed her arm around the waist of her near-unconscious patient
and, with no small amount of effort, managed to get him to his feet
and into the tower chamber. His eyes remained closed and his head
canted to the left the entire time she walked him to the pallet in
the far corner. “Will the guard return soon so he can get you to
the keep? For I dare not go further inside these walls. I want no
other mortal to see me—and, I beg you, tell no one of our meeting,
else my father will surely have you vexed with mischief the
remainder of your days.”
    “Nay...sext,” Callum answered, tho’ ‘twas all
he could do to get the words past his dry throat.
    “Sext! But that is not for at least two more
hours!” Branwenn felt his forehead. Godamercy, ‘twas still so
hot—but his brow was dry as a bone now. Not good. She could not
leave him here with no one to help him. She just couldn’t.
    An idea came to her. Grabbing a stool and an
unlit candle holder from atop a small table, she hurried to stand
near the opening of the secret entrance and threw them with
maniacal force onto the ground. Satisfied with the loud clatter
she’d made, she then began to cry out in as low and manly a timbre
as she could manage. In the next instant, the sound of pounding
feet on the stone stairs outside the doorway to the tower, as well
as the sound of men’s raised voices, filled the room. With one last
quick look at Callum, she fled through the opening and hastily
closed it behind her. When she was safely on the other side of the
oaken door, she breathed a sigh of relief. Surprisingly, she could
still hear what was going on inside, so she stood and listened as
the men hustled to get Callum to the keep and made plans to find a
physician in all haste. When all became quiet once more, she turned
to make her way back to her own dwelling but stopped short.
Hellfire and damnation! She had no lit taper. Blood of Christ and
Mary and God, too! She was going to have to go back inside that
chamber and get the torch. She giggled then. Well—wasn’t that just
the type of mischief mortals expected of the wee folk? And ‘twas
awfully still and quiet inside that chamber now—no doubt, the guard
on duty would not return until his scheduled time. With a shrug,
she turned back to the door and opened it wide. Hmmm, mayhap she
would find a few other items she could use while she was about it.
And she did have the key—as well as the combination—to the secret
entry...hmmm.
    * * *

CHAPTER 2
     
    “‘Twas my impetuous young nephew who did the
deed, I tell you! I knew naught of it until well past the time your
stepson left my holding last eve!” Laird Gordon avowed heatedly,
his brow damp with sweat and his cheeks the color of new-picked
berries. “I and my men immediately went in search of Callum as soon
as we learned of my nephew’s son’s treachery.”
    Laird MacGregor’s eyes narrowed into angry
slits. “That well may be—”
    A knock came on the door just then and
directly behind the sound, the door swung wide and the keep’s
steward propelled himself forward. “Laird,”—his eyes flitted
nervously to Laird Gordon and then settled back on his liege—“your
stepson lives—”
    “Praise be!” Both laird’s exclaimed at
once.
    “Where is he?” Laird MacGregor asked.
    “We’ve taken him to his bedchamber, Laird.” A
short pause followed. “He is not well. He’s a fever and is barely
conscious. ‘Tis clear as well that he took a tumble from his steed,
for his ankle and shoulder are mightily swollen and bruised.”
    “I must go to him immediately—have my wife
and her mother been informed of the blessed tidings?”
    “Nay, not as yet, Laird. But the solar is my
next destination.”
    Laird MacGregor turned to his unwelcome guest
and said,