The Raven's Moon by Susan King Page A

reivers. And he took up wi' Alec Scott."
    "If Alec were my brother, I would defend him until I knew the truth," she said.
    "No doubt. But if Alec favors spying these days, he'll pay the price for it someday. He will be caught." He leaned a hand to the wall just over her head.
    She stared up at him, touching her teeth to her lower lip fretfully. "Will you or won't you take me as a pledge for Iain?" she asked. "I am the Lincraig rider Simon hunts."
    He breathed out, stirring the dark, silky tendrils near her forehead. "If I decide to take down the Lincraig rider, lass," he murmured, "I will do so when I please. On the highway or on the moor. Or in your own house."
    She watched him like a fledgling bird might watch a hawk. "And then?"
    He lowered his forehead to nearly touch hers. "And then we shall see," he whispered, "what we will do."
    "You could still take me as a pledge," she offered.
    Rowan smiled and drew back a little. "Rare stubbornness," he said. "And rare loyalty. But filled with a foolish notion."
    She lifted her chin. "Take me pledge now, or I will ride again. I have not found the warrant yet."
    "Stubborn," he murmured. "You may get yourself killed. And I am not the only one who will come after you, if you spoil travelers again on that road."
    "Spare me, then, and take me for a pledge now."
    "I do not make bargains with daft Highland lassies."
    She swore in Gaelic, breathy but vicious, and whirled to yank at the door latch. Rowan placed his hand over hers.
    "Leaving? Then you leave with me," he said. "I am done with my wee rest." He pulled the door wide, grabbed her arm, and walked out of the cell with her into the close, dark corridor.
    "Let go!" She pushed at him, but he kept an iron grip on her arm. "You gave me your word!"
    "I said I would not harm you. But I never promised to stay here." He drew her, struggling, up the stone steps. "It seems you did not intend to ransom me, so I'm free to go."
    "I would not take a penny for you!" she yelled.
    "I had value enough when I rode past you on the Lincraig road," he remarked, pulling her up another step.
    "I wanted your papers! Ow! Where do you take me?"
    "To your horse," he said. "I think you should go home."
    "And where are you going?"
    "Home," he answered mildly.
    "Let go!" She wrenched free of his hold. Losing her balance on the step, she tilted, and Rowan caught her deftly around the waist.
    "Listen, wild lassie," he growled, "I will not harm you. Trust me for that. But I am leaving and so are you."
    He let go of her then. Taking the risers in pairs, he reached the top of the staircase and emerged into the cool air.
    "Wait!"
    He heard her scurrying up the steps behind him, but he was already crossing the courtyard with long strides over the old, broken stones. Just inside the crumbling outer wall, a black horse was tethered to a stone.
    "You will not steal my horse!" Mairi called out.
    "I do not steal horses," Rowan muttered. He walked past the animal and through the gateless opening.
    His rapid stride brought him quickly out into the middle of the moor. The day was bright enough to make him squint, but the cold wind cut through his thin shirt and mud seeped through his knitted hose. He had no boots still, but could ignore any discomfort now that he was unconfined and outside. He walked on, ducking against the wind.
    Behind him, he heard a horse, but did not turn.
    "Where are you going?" Mairi called.
    "Go home, Mairi," he said, and walked ahead.
    "You do not have your boots!"
    "Then give them back," he answered over his shoulder.
    She drew the horse alongside of him. "We will be clear that I did not steal your things," she said firmly. "I only took them to dry them by the fire. You things were dripping wet."
    "Then make certain they are dry, for I will soon come get them from you," he said, marching on through the muck.
    Something soft and warm descended over his head. He snatched at it. She had thrown him her plaid, still warm from her body. He began to toss it