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

as Brenna could tell. She counted eleven tousled heads, a colorful assortment of inky black, coppery red, and golden blonde. The only wean not present was Gretna’s three-year-old daughter, Malina Kirsteen. She was napping in the nursery. Her lively playmate, Catriona’s three-year-old Maisie Leanna, bounced on her mother’s hip, begging to get closer to Magnus and Keigan.

“Nay, I said,” Catriona scolded. “I fear ye’ll fall since Willa said she already caught ye crawling into the crenels to see the glen. Now, be still, or ye will go to yer cot, and there ye will stay and miss yer supper.”

Maisie quieted, but her pouting informed everyone that she wasn’t happy that her twelve-year-old sister had betrayed her.

Brenna wasn’t all that pleased with Keigan’s position on the roof’s edge. Thankfully, the tall merlons rising from the stone battlement reached well above his head. As long as Magnus kept the lad from doing as Maisie had done, climbing into the spaces between them, she’d hold her tongue. Especially since they appeared to be enjoying themselves.

“Hold out yer arm,” Magnus instructed, adjusting the straps on the heavy leather glove he’d had made for Keigan. The long thick cuff extended up over the boy’s shoulder, protecting it and the rest of his small arm from the falcon’s sharp talons. “Now whistle sharply like I taught ye. Merlin’s waiting.”

Pressing two fingers of his gloveless hand to his lips, the lad attempted a loud whistle but only succeeded in a soft shushing shower of spittle.

Brenna bit her lip to keep from laughing. Poor Keigan. One of his front teeth had come out last night and impaired his ability to summon the bird. Magnus ducked his head, struggling to contain his amusement as well.

“Can I just call him by name?” the boy asked after drying his chin on his sleeve.

Magnus peered up into the sky, his narrowed eyes locked on the dark speck soaring above them. His head tilted as he watched the bird. “Try it. He knows ye well enough by now and seems to favor ye.”

The falcon did favor Keigan. It had taken to roosting in the rafters of the lad’s room. Brenna had caught Keigan hurrying to scrub droppings off the floors on more than one occasion. She’d not scolded him or forbidden the winged beastie from his quarters. As long as the lad cleaned up after the thing, she would allow it.

This day was a special one. It was the first time Magnus had given Keigan full control over his feathered companion. The lad stood taller and lifted his gloved hand. “Merlin!” he shouted. “Come ta me!”

An answering cry split the air. The tiny speck grew in size as the falcon’s rapid dive brought him downward. With another piercing screech, it lit on Keigan’s arm, then sidestepped its way up to the lad’s shoulder.

“Well done!” Magnus praised, looking over at Brenna to ensure she had witnessed Keigan’s victory.

It made her smile. She couldn’t tell who was prouder, Magnus or Keigan.

The other children clapped and cheered. Gretna’s sons had often worked with Merlin, even looked after him whenever Magnus feared his travels might be too hazardous for the bird. But the rest of the wee ones at the keep gave the falcon a wide berth. Too many had seen the ease with which the feathery hunter tore into its prey and ate it. Talons sharp as steel and beak as deadly as a dagger, most at the keep admired Merlin from a distance.

“Red comin’ this way!” shouted Rory, Gretna’s second son, as he pointed at the horizon.

“Aye, just there. Across the glen,” confirmed Ramsay, Mercy’s eldest. “Headed toward Ruadh. Reckon we should tell the guards to sound the horns and warn the villagers?”

No sooner had the lad spoken, then the alarm horns blared long and loud, echoing down the mountainside and into the town below.

“Inside!” Magnus ordered. “Everyone goes with Brenna and Catriona. Now!”

Heart in her throat, Brenna helped Catriona herd the young ones into the keep and deliver them to their respective quarters. All but Evander. Unfortunately, at fifteen, the lad was old enough to take up a sword if need be. Brenna prayed it wouldn’t come to that because if worst came to worst, Rory, Finn, and William, even at the tender ages of fourteen, thirteen, and twelve, might be called to bear arms, too.

Times such as these made her despise the cold cruelty life sometimes served. With the kindness and support of all she had met here at Tor Ruadh, she had settled into a peaceful routine. Found her place. Discovered that contentment did, in fact, exist and waited for her to claim it. She resented anything that threatened to steal it away.

“Auntie, Merlin and I can help,” Keigan argued as she ushered him into their chambers.

“I know ye’re a fine fighter, my brave one. Ye protected me with both bow and stones many a time.” She smoothed back his hair and pecked a kiss to his forehead. “But here at the keep, the guards protect us first. We have to help them by doing as they ask.” Accompanying him to his room, she pointed at the wooden chest at the foot of his bed. “What say we check yer stones and see if any need their edges honed, ’case we should need them?”

“I guess we can,” he grudgingly agreed. He stepped closer to the bed and held out his arm. “Ye can either sit here and watch or go high, Merlin. Whichever ye wish.”

With a twitch of his feathery head, the bird blinked its dark brown eyes, then flapped its way up to the rafters.

Noise in the sitting room made Brenna snatch up a stone and rise from where she crouched beside the chest. “Stay here,” she ordered in a tone she knew the lad would never challenge. They had been through enough during Keigan’s brief life for the child to know when circumstances demanded complete obedience.

As soon as she stepped out of the room and spotted Magnus and a maidservant