Page 35 of The Seer

“It does.” A deep frown creased her forehead. “I must speak to them first thing and ensure we divide our tasks. I will not be left out.”

“Take off yer clothes and stay,” Alasdair lifted the bedding inviting her.

“I cannot,” Dallis stubbornly replied. “I should go.”

He lowered the bedding to his hips. “Are ye sure?”

When her gaze traveled slowly down his body, it was as if she touched his skin.

“Oh, very well. Ye do not play fair. Promise to wake me at first light.”

Chapter 12

Although Guiles felt that things were not quite right, he preferred to be wrong than for one of his hunting dogs to be in harm’s way. He guided his horse alongside the forest edge and whistled for his dog.

A guard had insisted the hound had hobbled into the woods holding one of its legs up. It didn’t seem right. His overly indulged dogs would never run away but to him when hurt.

Once again he whistled and heard no reply, no whine or scrambling...nothing. Annoyed because there was much to do and if this were some sort of jest, he’d personally whip the idiot who thought it a good time for a prank.

Finally, he dismounted and looked over his shoulder toward the keep. His men practiced, the sounds of swords clashing distinct. Atop the wall others patrolled, their keen eyes scanning the surroundings. He waited until one looked in his direction and he lifted a hand in greeting. If this turned out to be some sort of ambush, the guard would notice his absence.

The guard returned the greeting, now remaining in place watching him.

Guiles dropped his horse’s reins and walked forward.

An unmistakable swishing sound was followed by a sharp pain. Stumbling backward, Guiles reached up to where it hurt.

At realizing an arrow was impaled in the chest, he stumbled backward.

He opened his mouth to gasp for breath just as a second one hit, this one just below his right shoulder. He dropped to the ground and rolled sideways breaking the arrows, barely feeling it. Rather the temporary pain than death, Guiles thought, as he dropped to his stomach, to push them through.

Sharp pains invaded so horrible, his vision blurred. Guiles did his best to stay coherent and drag himself under foliage and hide.

Whether a third arrow struck him or just a sharp pain from the two currently impaled in his body, Guiles was not sure. He shook his head and crawled toward low growing bushes, but a fog crept along the edges of his vision until he could no longer see.

Guiles fell back just as darkness fell.

* * *

Laird Sinclair looked up when Alasdair burst into the study.

“Yer son...”

The laird didn’t need to hear another word. He rushed to Alasdair widened eyes boring into his. “Did something happen to Guiles?”

“He’s been injured.”

How to tell the man he’d had a vision and didn’t know where Guiles was?

As they reached the great room, four guardsmen raced in, and surrounded the laird.

One of them spoke. “We cannot allow ye outside. They bring Guiles now.”

The laird looked from the men to Alasdair. “What happened?”

“Arrows,” the same guard replied.

Another nodded. “We were up on the wall saw him fall. Whoever it was had to be near. Niven along with another ten men gave chase.”