The seeker was well enough to be moved up to the castle the following day. He sent one of Anghus’s own men to fetch him, an act that caused the MacRuraich’s face to redden in anger. Nonetheless he went, changing first into his kilt and plaid to subtly remind the seeker who he was.
The seeker sat at his ease in one of the carved chairs in Castle Rurach’s great hall, a goblet of wine in one hand, his feet in furred slippers stretched to the roaring log fire. His shoulder was heavily bandaged, his arm resting in a sling. He made no attempt to rise to his feet or bow as he should have, instead waving Anghus nonchalantly to a chair. The prionnsa ground his teeth together and sat down.
‘Glad indeed I was to wake up and find myself in the castle,’ the seeker said, failing to address Anghus by his ti