Thirty-Three
The evening meal was a quiet affair. Both Andrews, along with Monty and Donnan, joined Brodie, Laurel, Dominic and Colina at the high table. The somber mood of looming battle spread through the clan. Brodie decided he wouldn’t explain the situation until he discussed strategy with Laurel and the men. Annoyance nipped at him when Dominic excused himself along with Colina, claiming she wasn’t feeling well, and he needed to tend to his wife. He’d always thought his brother doting on his wife was nice, and he better understood it now that he married Laurel. But Colina looked no different from she always did: pale and snooty. His brother missing the strategy meeting rankled. Brodie predicted the MacFarlane men would balk at Laurel’s presence while Monty and Donnan would cross their arms and grin. He wasn’t wrong.
“Campbell, I ken you’re newly married, but can you let the lass go for a moment?” Andrew Mòr grumbled. Brodie glanced at Monty and Donnan. The men’s arms were crossed, their expressions smug.
“Nay, I can’t. Both because I don’t want to, and because I ken my wife is a strategist. She’s likely to win the war for us.” Brodie rolled out a map of Kilchurn Castle and the surrounding area of Glenorchy. Laurel leaned forward and studied, finding the marks that represented the nearby keeps. She shifted her focus to Ben Lui, and the distance they’d traveled that day. She struggled to remember what she’d learned of where the Lamonts and MacDougalls intended to meet. She spotted the dam and where the MacArthurs and MacGregors likely camped. It surprised her how close their northern enemies dared come.
Laurel’s mind ticked over, envisioning men on both sides moving from various directions. She pictured how the groups might move dependent on their enemy. She thought of at least five scenarios before anyone spoke. She listened attentively to Andrew Mòr when he was the first to make a suggestion.
“Rally your branches here. Send them across the Orchy to take on the MacArthurs and the MacGregors. We remain with you to fight what’s left of the Lamont and MacDougall bastards who dare show their faces.” Andrew nodded, pleased with his suggestion, sounding as though their battle plan was complete. Laurel looked at Brodie, who watched her. She said nothing, nor made any gesture, but her mouth thinned.
“How shall we place our men?” Brodie asked, looking at Monty. Laurel’s brother jutted his chin at her.
“Ask Laurel. She already kens.”
“Bah. Women are like weans. They’re best seen and not heard,” Andrew Mòr sniped.
“Father,” Andrew Óg dared enter the conversation. It was clear he hadn’t returned to his father’s good graces. “Lady Lau—Lady Campbell earned her reputation at court because of her intelligence. People heard the barbs and sarcasm and thought her haughty or just mean-spirited. But a few of us realized they came easily to her and cut so deeply because she’s more observant and astute than most. If Ross says you should consider her suggestions, then we should.” Andrew shot another apologetic glance at Laurel. This time she believed it was genuine.
“Very well. The lass speaks,” Andrew Mòr grumbled.
“I prefer Lady Campbell, but I’ll accept Lady Laurel. I haven’t been a lass in a decade,” Laurel corrected. While people called women “lass” until their last days, she would demand the respect due to her. She didn’t want the MacFarlane to think she played games. She looked around Brodie’s solar before she collected a handful of quills, the inkwell, and a block of wax. She returned to the table and examined the map once more. She placed the inkwell where the mark for Ben Lui laid. She angled the quills over the other castles, and the wax was Kilchurn. “The Lamonts will follow the same route as we did. They’re likely less than an hour’s ride from here already. Since they cannot rendezvous with the MacDougalls like they planned, both clans will send scouts either to relay messages or to agree to a new stepping off point.”
Laurel pointed to the inkwell. She made a triangle with her forefinger and middle finger upright against the tabletop. She spread the fingers of her other hand at the point she figured the MacDougalls would make camp. They were probably closer than originally planned, since they were unsure whether the Lamonts were still in the war. She walked her two fingers from the inkwell toward Kilchurn Castle. Her other hand slid toward Kilchurn at the same time.
“If they’re smart, the Lamonts will wait until they see the MacDougalls regardless of what time they arrive. I would estimate they will meet here.” Laurel nodded to where both hands rested. She lifted them and looked at the men, surprised to see even the MacFarlanes watched and listened. “The other keeps are well-positioned for Kilchurn’s defenses. I assume that was the plan all along. But rather than using their proximity to summon them directly to Kilchurn, they move east from their homes. The MacDougalls will move past them undetected because they will assume one of two things. All the branches already rallied here, or that there wasn’t time to rally them at all. Either way, they won’t expect them along their route. Innes Chonnel stands the furthest south.”
Laurel used the fingers of her left hand this time to represent the MacDougalls. She slid the quill furthest from her slowly toward her traveling fingers. She inched it along until it lay parallel to her fingers. As she moved her left hand forward, she slid the second quill directly toward them.
“This is Inishail, correct?” Laurel looked up at Brodie, who leaned over the map with rapt attention, his weight resting on his fists. He nodded. “When they reach this point, they’ll be east of Fraoch Eileen. If these three forces merge into a wall that blocks the MacDougalls and Lamonts’ retreat, they can press them to the river just south of the dam. If the Lord and the saints see it fit, the MacArthurs and MacGregors are already in the drink, or they’ll launch their attack when they see the MacDougalls and Lamonts approach. The men here at Kilchurn join ranks with the Campbells to squeeze the MacDougalls and Lamonts into the river. If they attempt to stand their ground in hopes the other two clans will cross and join them, it will still leave them on their own. Block any path for them to escape. They wind up in the water, drowned or floating into the bay and at our doorsteps.”
Laurel stood upright and looked at each man. All five of them continued to stare at the map. Slowly, one by one, they nodded their head. Laurel knew they were picturing for themselves the strategy she envisioned. She wouldn’t rush them. When they finally all looked at her, she crossed her arms.
“There is one last thing you must consider.” Laurel looked at Brodie, then Monty, and finally Andrew Mòr, the leaders of the three clans and the men who would bear the fall out. And she was certain it would happen. “As Brodie said before, this is no longer a feud. This is a war. This plan doesn’t leave room to allow them to retreat. Its intention is to kill as many as we can.”
Laurel looked Brodie in the eye. She drew in a breath before she continued, knowing she trod a fine line.
“Our clan has wronged the MacGregors since the Bruce granted you most of Glenorchy. They have nearly no land left. Their clan shrinks each year. Depending on the force they send, this could destroy them. We must all prepare for this to be named a massacre. They may attack our home—” Laurel looked at Brodie once again, then to Monty and the Andrews. “—and your allies, but there will be no confusion aboot who the victors are. Are you prepared to be painted the villain for generations? Are you ready for people to say you led a massacre over a woman—two women?”
The somber group grew more sober as the men mulled over Laurel’s predictions. Each man standing around the table knew two things: Laurel’s strategy was the best, and she was right that they would shoulder the blame for what would be a massacre. Brodie looked at the MacFarlane first.
“Mòr, you’ve been our ally for a long time. We’ve fought together many times, but this isn’t your fight for any other reason than our alliance. Are you willing to place your clan in jeopardy of King Robert’s ire?”
“I am,” the MacFarlane answered. “If they have the bollocks to take on the Campbells and think they stand a chance, then they will not think twice to overrun us. It ends before it starts.”
“Ross?” Brodie asked.
“This cements our alliance.”
“An alliance your father, the laird, hasn’t confirmed,” Brodie pointed out.
“If my father wasn’t prepared to form a new alliance, he wouldn’t have sent me to court to see my sister married. He knew it would be to someone. He couldn’t ask for a better choice.”
Brodie looked at Laurel and asked, “Are you prepared to weather this storm? I don’t doubt that you’re right. However, this may be more than the king can overlook.”
“There will be consequences, but the king is no fool. He knew what he encouraged when he sanctioned our marriage. Besides the Gordons, there are no other powerful clans in the Highlands who aren’t linked to us by marriage. He won’t stand against you. He knows the Sutherlands and Sinclairs’ loyalty is unwavering. But he also knows he won’t live forever. He’ll think aboot what he leaves behind for Prince David. Does he want the Highlands fractured again? Does he want his son to inherit a country where the most powerful clans turn their backs once he’s dead? Nay. It’s not the Bruce I worry aboot. It’s everyone else. The Campbells have a long list of allies and just as long a list of rivals. Are you prepared to lose some of your allies and antagonize every rival?”
“We didn’t become what we are by luck or happenstance,” Brodie pointed out. He locked eyes with Laurel. “These four clans threaten our people, our home, our way of life. If I show any mercy, they will believe they can continue. This ends here and now. Whether people like it or not, the Campbells are Glenorchy, Glencoe, and Lorne. This is our land to defend. I am the mon tasked to lead. This isn’t just aboot men attacking my wife. This is aboot my clan’s future, one I intend to solidify as the most dominant clan for generations to come. What think you, Laurel?”
