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or boasted when she had claimed knowledge of healing. Then Ewan recalled her question about the necessity of moving Simon.
    “The men who attacked us were Grays,” he said as she completed her stitching and began to cover Simon’s wounds with a salve. “Some fled. They could gather more men and return within but a few hours. Now that they ken we are here, I think that it exactly what they will do.”
    “So, this wasnae a planned attack?” She tied off the bandage she had wrapped around the wound on Simon’s arm and, with Gregor’s help, began to wrap a bandage around the youth’s stomach.
    “Nay, I think they just stumbled upon us. I am certain they will be eager to try again, however.”
    “Then we move on. Can Simon be taken upon a pallet without costing us too much time?”
    “Aye, I planned to do that. Tis why I feel we will need half a day to reach Scarglas.”
    Fiona nodded as she stood up. “Make the bed of it as soft as ye can with blankets and tie him to it. Twill lessen the roughness of the journey.” She picked up her bag. “I will see if there are any other injuries that need tending.”
    “A few wee ones. We were lucky. We lost no one. We had warning enough to beready for them.”
    Ewan watched her move toward his men even as he ordered two men to make a pallet for Simon. She was suffering over what she had done. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. Although someone had trained her how to fight, and trained her well, Ewan felt sure she had never had to kill a man before.
    He sighed, feeling both regret and anger. She now had blood on her hands because of his family. His father had ensured that they were surrounded by enemies, too many of whom would like to rid the world of anyone who claimed Scarglas as his home. Ewan could not recall when, if ever, he had been able to spend a day, even an hour, without watching for an attack. It was wrong to drag her into the midst of all that trouble, yet he had no choice. He could not leave her wandering about such a dangerous land on her own, nor could he deny his clan the chance to gain some much-needed ransom for her. The best he could do was work hard to make certain her stay in this benighted land was not a long one.
    Which was not going to be easy if she continued to refuse to tell them who she was and where she was from, he thought as he helped prepare the pallet for Simon. Ewan considered threatening her, frightening her into telling him what he needed to know, then quickly shrugged aside that idea. Not only did he doubt he would do so effectively since he could not actually carry out any of his threats, but he doubted it would work. Instinct told him that threats and intimidation would either be disbelieved by Fiona or would simply make her even more determined to tell him nothing.
    Once prepared to leave, Ewan found himself with yet another problem. It should have been a simple one to solve, but his own contadictory emotions made it difficult. Fiona had to ride with someone, but he found he was reluctant to have her share a saddle with any of his men. Inwardly cursing, he set her on his saddle and mounted behind her. Having her so close was undoubtedly going to make the ride to Scarglas a long and uncomfortable one. Unfortunately, he suspected watching her ride along in another man’s arms would be even worse.
    After only an hour of feeling her slender body so close to his, catching her sweet scent each time he breathed, Ewan knew he needed to distance or distract himself. “Is today the first time ye have been in a battle?”
    “Aye,” Fiona replied, fighting the urge to nestle back against him. “I have been in a few wee fights, e’en wounded a mon or two, but I have ne’er killed a mon.” She shivered as the image of the man’s empty, staring eyes filled her mind.
    “He was about to take Simon’s head from his shoulders.”
    “I ken it.” Feeling chilled and her back aching from the struggle to keep a distance between