“You will have those things. But in return, I expect to leave with my men.”
Ronan snorted. “You will not. They will be returned once you meet my demands. Refusal will not only ensure I kill them, it guarantees that I will come for you too. I will reciprocate your cousin’s hospitality by throwing you in the oubliette. Once you’ve languished there for a while, I will kill you as well.” Ronan raised his chalice but didn’t take a drink. He canted his head as he looked speculatively at Landry, knowing he made the younger man uncomfortable. “Perhaps I will throw you down there this eve and send a messenger back to Dunvegan with my demands. When they’re met, then I’ll consider releasing you.”
“You would violate the pledge of your hospitality?”
“I never pledged to be hospitable, Landry. You did not come here seeking shelter. You came to negotiate a truce. Unfortunately, you are not the one with the upper hand. I am. If you don’t accept my terms, then the negotiations are through, but you are still on my land.” Ronan shrugged and took a long sip of his wine. He watched Landry over the rim of his chalice. He observed Landry mull over his options and knew when the man made his decision.
“All but the horses. Your wife murdered my cousin. Call their value aweregildfor his life.”
“You may claim your lineage is from the Norse, but I do not. I am descended from the first kings of Scotland and the kings of Ireland. I don’t believe in aweregildany more than I do your Fairy Flag. Be glad you’re not begging for that back.”
“Be glad your wife still has her head,” Landry snapped. Every MacKinnon man at the table rose and reached for their sword or a dirk. The MacLeods at the lower tables reached for their knives. Abigail sat forward and locked eyes with Landry.
“You are not speaking in your best interests, Landry, nor those of your clan. If you were smart, not only would you agree to each of my husband’s terms—graciously, I might add—you would also seek his council on how to lead. You have no one left alive in your clan who has ever served as a laird. Your council is either weak or foolish, mayhap both, since they supported Cormag. Laird MacKinnon came to his position even younger than you. You sit at our table because he hasn’t killed you, and he’s considering allowing your men to live. A wise mon would spend more time listening and learning than speaking.”
Ronan sat down when Abigail began talking. His men followed his lead, and the MacLeods went back to their meals. Without much thought, his hand rested where Abigail’s neck met her shoulder, and his thumb grazed the skin of her nape. He was intrigued by what Abigail would say, and he thought her observation to be astute. He wondered if Landry would see the wisdom. When the young laird nodded, it pleased Ronan to see Abigail had gotten through to him.
“Laird MacKinnon, I will accept your terms. All of them, without condition. Lady MacKinnon is correct that there is no one with experience as Laird MacLeod left at Dunvegan. My cousins and I filled four out of nine seats on the clan council. Not only are three now vacant, but my cousins also forced the council to follow them, since we nearly outnumbered them. Mayhap we could speak in private after the meal.”
Ronan nodded, curious about what Landry wished to discuss behind closed doors. He invited Abigail to join him and Clyde when they retired to his solar with Landry, but she declined. The man made her uneasy, and she wished to escape his company as soon as she could. Ronan watched from the bottom of the stairs as Abigail made her way to their chamber before he ushered Clyde and Landry into his solar. Two guards stood outside the door once the two lairds and the tánaiste were behind the closed door.
“MacKinnon, you and Lady MacKinnon made points I cannot ignore. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t want to ruin my clan,” Landry confessed. “I ken I made an arse of myself with my bravado, but I thought I needed to make a good show.”
“I once told King Robert that the greatest lesson my mother taught me was that children should be seen and not heard, and that’s a motto men can live by as well.”
“Sounds similar to what your lady wife said.”
“It is. She knows my nature. Come to the point of why you wished to speak in private. It’s been a long day, and I prefer Lady MacKinnon’s company to yours.”
“The MacLeods and the MacKinnons will not thrive if we spend our resources feuding. We each have enough contention with the other clans on this isle without furthering our disagreements. I would rather be a leader like you than Cormag.” Landry frowned but didn’t look away when his gaze met Ronan’s. “I don’t ken how to be laird. I didn’t even ken how to be a tánaiste. Now I must lead my clan. Not only do I agree to your terms, but I would also offer a pledge to cease all hostility toward your clan in exchange for you—for your—your tutelage.” Landry blurted the last two words as if they left a sour taste on his tongue.
“You wish for me to teach you how to be a laird? You’re a wee auld to foster, Landry.”
“If you’re going to be a smug bastard aboot it, then never mind.”
“Take your pot off the boil,” Ronan waved Landry toward a chair with a grin. “You don’t have the luxury of remaining here while I teach you the duties of a laird. But I am willing to answer your questions this eve and in the future. If you’re in doubt of how to handle a situation, send a missive, and I will do what I can to advise you. I suggest you consider every mon in your clan and decide who you trust and who would offer you sound advice. They should be your clan council, not just men who have held their position since before you were born. Your clan is aboot to make serious changes if you want to maintain a truce with me. Your council likely needs to change. Don’t do this in haste, but neither should you dally.”
“I assume King Robert’s summoned you, like he has me.”
“Aye. And I assume you’re dreading appearing before him.”
“That and managing my way around court. I would rather I arrive kenning we are at peace than having King Robert intervene.”
“I would prefer that too. That is why you sat at my table and are sipping my whisky now.” Ronan stretched his legs out before the fire. He glanced at Clyde, who stood unobtrusively near the door. Neither man trusted Landry, but they would give him the benefit of the doubt until he proved as untrustworthy as his relatives.
“I—” Landry gazed into his whisky mug as he swirled the contents. Ronan waited even though he could guess what Landry wanted to say. When the MacLeod looked up at Ronan, he smiled tightly. “This is one of those times where you’re being seen but not heard, isn’t it?” Ronan nodded. “You’ll wait for me to speak, rather than offer up more than you should.”
Ronan nodded again. “You’re learning already.”
“When we’re at court—” Landry’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t want you to think that I’m weak and a pushover. You will severely underestimate me if you do.”
“Settle. You needn’t puff up like an indignant pigeon. When we’re at court, you’re hoping to observe how I interact with the men there,” Ronan supplied.
“Aye.”
“If you can remember to be seen and not heard, then I won’t object. The moment you chime in and make my life difficult is the moment you find yourself out on your ear. If you do aught to jeopardize my clan or me, I will destroy you. So think twice if you intend to manipulate me. I will ken before you even start, and I will be merciless.”
“That’s fair. Thank you.” Landry extended his arm to Ronan, who grasped his forearm. “I bid you goodnight, Laird.”
