The Ghost Greyson, Maeve (reading an ebook .txt) 📖

“Remember what I said?” With a superior air, she smiled at Evander. “The young ones think the older ones are gods. Ye and I are merely the parents who more often than not tell them what they dinna wish to hear and make them do their chores.”

His heart warmed at the fellowship in her tone. Her forgiveness meant a great deal to him. At the end of his life, when they weighed and measured all he had done, he wanted Brenna and Keigan to be on the good side of the scales.

“Lady of the Wood! We have come for ye!”

Magnus stepped between Brenna and the threatening shout. The owner of the harsh words hadn’t stepped into view, but from the rustling of the bushes and the pounding steps, whoever it was didn’t travel alone. “Keigan and Brenna into the hut. Evander, hurry! Fetch our swords. I canna tell how many, but it’s more than one.”

Relief flooded through him when Brenna grabbed up the child and ran as he had bid. Then his heart fell when she reappeared at his side with her bow and quiver of arrows.

“I meant for ye to stay inside the hut,” he said in a low tone as a trio of men shoved through the bushes.

“Keigan is armed, as well. He’s a damn fine shot from the notch in the shutter.” She nocked an arrow, then stepped forward with a fiery glare fixed on the angry visitors. “I am the Lady of the Wood. Speak yer piece.”

“We are the sons of Alfric and Morag,” announced the largest of the three. “They are dead.”

“Both lived a great many years,” Brenna countered without lowering her weapon. “Be thankful they reached the end of their life’s path together.”

“They are dead by yer hand,” the brother to the left growled.

“We know our mother came here to fetch more of the herbs that always eased our father’s breathing,” the man to the right explained. “This morning, we found them dead, in the bed with the pipe ye gave them and barely a sprinkling of the herbs left between them.”

“I warned Morag that too much of the smoke would make her a widow,” Brenna said. “She and Alfric chose their end, not I.”

“They had years left with us!” the brother in the middle snarled. “Years! Instead, they are gone. Dead by yer poison.”

“Yer grief blinds ye to yer parents’ wishes,” Magnus interrupted, taking another step forward, so he was closest to the men and not Brenna. “They feared loneliness. One left behind without the other. Surely, ye can see they wished to walk through the veil together.”

“They had us!” the brother to the left retorted. “Neither wouldha been alone as long as one of us lived. Now, we have no one to cook for us or tend the goats. Who will mend our clothes? They knew we needed them and wouldha never left them without a roof over their heads or a warm hearth in the winter.”

“It isna the same,” Magnus tried to explain, deciding the three selfish brothers despised the idea of fending for themselves more than they grieved the loss of their parents. “No son, no matter how beloved, can take the place of a wife or a husband. Leave here and mourn for yer dead. Know that ye have our condolences.”

“And just who are ye who dares to speak for the Lady of the Wood?” asked the largest man. His glare shifted to Brenna, and he spit. “Heartless murderess that she is.”

“I am the protector of the Lady of the Wood,” Magnus said, barely holding himself back at such disrespect.

“Protector,” the brother repeated. “Husband? We always thought her alone. Just her and the fae child some have seen charming the animals of the wood.”

If acting as her husband would guarantee Brenna’s safety, then so be it. “War called me away, but now I have returned to my wife and son.” He sliced the air with his sword, daring them to come closer. “Leave now. Go and bury yer kin. Honor them as ye should.”

“I’ll have ye know we’ve gone to the council about the poisons yer wife hands out,” the brother on the right said, his tone calm but menacing. “This isna over.”

“Ye will pay!” threatened the large one with a raised fist as they turned to leave. “We mean to see to it!” The woods closed in around them as they headed back toward the village.

“We must leave here as quick as ye can pack yer things,” Magnus ordered, striding down the path several steps to ensure the men had departed for certain. “Keigan can ride with Evander, and ye can ride with me.” When Brenna didn’t respond, he turned to see why.

Arrow still nocked, she had lowered the bow and rested it against her skirts. She stared at the path, but Magnus could tell she didn’t see a thing other than what had just happened. He recognized the fear and uncertainty storming in her eyes. Panic held her prisoner.

“Brenna,” he said gently. “We will get ye from here safe. I swear it. Ye and Keigan both. But we must hurry before they return.”

“But I…this is our home. We worked so verra hard to build it.”

“I know, lass.” The despair in her voice broke his heart, but there was nothing that could be done for it. “The two of ye made a fine life here, but it appears it is time to change—like the seasons. Ye know nothing ever stays the same.”

“I had hoped we were done with running,” she said as she turned and moved slowly across the clearing. “I am so weary of running.”

Silently, he motioned for Evander to ready the horses, then moved to walk beside her. “Ye are nay running alone this time. I’ll keep ye safe. I swear it.”

“Auntie?” Keigan stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and troubled. “We have to leave our house?”

“I fear so, my dear one.” She stopped and