Alexrodehard,Dougaland Callum trailing behind him. Brodie and his family had traveled just past the boundary of Glen Arrin, ignoring everything Alex had said the other night. Damn the man for giving up so soon.
He pushed his gelding hard, bringing the animal up in front of Brodie, forcing the family to stop. “I won’t let you turn your back on us, Brodie. We’re your clan. Your family.”
Brodie’s wife sent her husband a troubled gaze, her arms tightening around their young son. “It’s not safe to live here any more, is it?”
“Can their horses travel through walls?” Alex countered. “Can they burn down the stone?” He could see the flicker of uncertainty on Brodie’s face and continued. “If we had rebuilt Glen Arrin in wood, aye. We’d be vulnerable. But we’ve made a strong start.”
“We’re taking him away from the fighting.” Brodie’s hand went to rest upon his son’s shoulder. “He’ll be safe.”
“Aye, he will. Here, with his family and friends.” Alex led his horse close enough that he could reach out to Brodie. “Turn back and look at Glen Arrin, Brodie.”
His kinsman did and, for a time, neither spoke. He wanted his friend to see the vast walls stretching around Glen Arrin, like a shield. “It’s already changed from the place our fathers built. And when we’re gone, it will still be standing, for our children.”
He regarded Brodie and saw the indecision on his face. “What legacy do you want to leave? The memory of a father who fought and won his freedom? Or a man who abandoned his clan, out of fear?”
FinianMacLachorstaredatthe fortress of Glen Arrin. Though the main structure was destroyed, there were two rows of outer walls being constructed from stone. The men were already working, and the smoke of outdoor fires blended in the cold air. The winter chill cut through his body, but he felt nothing at all.
His sister had begged him not to war with the MacKinlochs. “You can’t be Harkirk’s executioner,” she’d said. “Don’t invoke the wrath of another clan.”
Especially a clan they’d been friends with. Tavin MacKinloch had been like an older brother to him, when they were fostered together. Tavin had shown Finian how to fish in the lochs, how to hunt and how to charm women into getting what he wanted.
The memory brought an ache of regret. Tavin had been a good man. And though their clans had grown apart with their new chief Donnell, they hadn’t raided one another. It was a respectful distance, one he was about to break.
The chainmail armor he wore was heavy, the icy links frigid against his skin. One hostage was all he needed. Someone close to the chief, perhaps their youngest brother. Or a wife. If he took a captive, the brothers would follow. They would hunt down his prisoner and then he would have all of them. His men could capture the MacKinlochs and take their heads to Harkirk.
Finian closed his eyes, the revulsion rising within him. This was Iliana, his daughter. The girl he adored, his only child. Already he could imagine the horrors Harkirk had brought against her and his blood raged at the thought. But when he’d tried to raise a group of men against the English baron a sennight ago, the soldiers had cut them down. Finian had been the only survivor.
Harkirk’s message was clear—Rise up against me and suffer the consequences.
The MacLachor people now numbered fewer than fifteen. And the only way to save his daughter was to carry out the devil’s work himself.
Moving closer, he dropped near to the ground, keeping hidden. Finian watched the women and children, searching for the right victim. Regardless of his personal morals, this unholy task had to be done.
And when his gaze fell upon his chosen prisoner, he knew that Alex MacKinloch and his brothers would not hesitate to fight for her. The only question was how to infiltrate the fortress. It would take time.
Time he didn’t have.
Alexrestedhishandupon the top edge of the gate house, staring into the distance. The twilight clouds were starting to lift, the mist drifting over the green hills. Brodie and his family had returned to Glen Arrin and it had brought a ripple of change among the people. Although the doubts were still there, he saw them eyeing the fortress in a new way.
He held fast to the hope that they would stand together. Though he believed they could emerge from this crisis stronger than ever, the people had to have faith.
From the valley, he spied a small group of horses. It was Bram and Nairna, returning with Laren. And as they drew closer, he saw a buoyant air of satisfaction in their bearing. Nairna was riding with Bram, while her horse held several bundles of what looked like supplies.
Laren looked uneasy, her gaze lowered to her hands. At the sight of her return, some of his tension eased, knowing that they were safe.
He’d spent most of last night, thinking about her and regretting what he’d said. But damn it all, why couldn’t she trust in him? Why had she felt the need to hide herself and her glasswork, as though he would punish her for them?
After the traveling party grew closer, Alex descended the stairs of the gate house to greet them. He closed off his troubled thoughts and waited as his wife approached. Laren’s face revealed her own uncertainty as she dismounted, while Nairna had a broad smile upon her face. Bram’s wife was nearly ready to explode with her news, but she grabbed Laren’s hand and pushed her forward. “Tell him!”
Alex looked into Laren’s blue eyes and she admitted at last, “We sold the glass. Nairna negotiated one hundred and twenty-five pieces of silver from the monks.”
“Can you believe it?” Nairna gushed. “The abbot had never seen work like hers before.” Without giving either of them a chance to speak, she lifted up the sack of coins and added, “We stopped to buy more food and supplies for the clan along the way home.”
Nairna’s excitement should have been infectious, but he was more concerned about Laren’s expression. She didn’t look as happy as she should.
Alex went to help unload the bundles and Laren joined him, her gaze downcast. He walked alongside her, slowing his pace until Nairna and Bram had continued on with the coins. When they were alone, he stopped. “Something’s troubling you.”
He waited for her to speak, and Laren lifted her gaze to his. Her expression held worry instead of joy. “I’m glad I was able to help the clan,” she said at last. “I was hoping we could sell the glass.”
