Murtagh gestured widely. "A free Scotland for me people—me own clan and beyond. Restoration of the true king. And one more small thing, one small request, which is all I'd ask from ye for such generosity."
"Speak it."
Murtagh placed his hand on Sorcha's shoulder. The girl flinched back, but otherwise did not react. "A husband," he said, "for me sweet daughter, the jewel of me heart. And, of course, when the time comes, she will rule at yer side as queen."
Time froze, and it felt like the floor had fallen out from beneath Maeve. The true gravity of the situation hit her like the crumbling walls of a destroyed castle. McKenzie suspected that Cailean would win this war—and if and when they did, he wanted to not only be on the winning side, but be on the top.
It was not an unreasonable request; Maeve knew that from a political standpoint, the offer was more than generous. A pretty young wife who could bear an ostensibly single king many children, in exchange for the power they needed to succeed. It was more than a fair suggestion for the chieftain to make, which somehow just made it feel worse.
Cailean's eyes widened, and his gaze flicked to Maeve as though he could not help himself. Murtagh, paying such close attention, did not miss the look, and Maeve did not enjoy the sly smile that formed on his lips in response.
"Dinnae fear. As I said, nae man can be blamed for havin' a few favorite bed warmers." He chortled, squeezing his daughter's shoulder. "Me lass doesnae expect a man who never strays—she just wishes tae serve and love ye and this country as best she can."
Maeve felt sick. Not only was the offer one which Caileanmustconsider—and, indeed, she could see him hesitating—but the way that Murtagh was speaking of his daughter reminded her horribly of years ago when she herself was sold off to her first marriage with Malcolm Darach. She knew that Cailean would never treat a woman in such a way, but it still made her feel dizzy to witness, and fear leaped in her heart as she realized now might be the time she lost her future with him.
But Cailean shook his head. "Forgive me, but nay. Yer daughter is lovely as a flower, but I cannae be her husband. I am already betrothed."
Relief flooded Sorcha's face, but a dark cloud fell over Murtagh's.
"Betrothed?" he boomed. Then he took a breath, barely concealing a sudden torrent of rage as he went on. "Well, whoever the lass is, set her aside. Ye are a king. Ye must have a woman fit tae be a queen, and me daughter?—"
"Yer daughter is a gem amongst women, it's true," Cailean interrupted smoothly. "But I will not shame me betrothed by settin' her aside, nor betray me own heart by considerin' it. I wish tae bring a Scotland united by love and hope. Tae wed outside of me bonds, tae take Sorcha as a prize, would be betrayin' everythin' me and my people have already worked for."
"And so ye expect me support for nothin'?" Murtagh's voice was dangerous now. "Ye expect blind loyalty with naught in exchange?"
"Of course not," Cailean replied. Behind him, both Darren and Fergus had their hands resting on the hilts of their swords,and Maeve was ready to draw her own knife. "Allow me tae make ye a counter-offer. I can suggest a husband for Sorcha, one who would be worthy of her and of yer allyship."
Cailean looked over his shoulder towards them all, and his eyes connected with Darren's. Maeve watched the unspoken conversation between them, and saw Darren's slight nod. With a swift grateful smile, Cailean turned back to Murtagh.
"And who," Murtagh asked in that same threatening tone, "Would ye suggest?"
Cailean beckoned for Darren to step forward. "This is Darren Bruce. He is the heir tae the Bruce Clan, and me right-hand man. And until such time comes when I am wed and then bear a son, he is alsomeheir—the heir tae the entire kingdom, once we have reclaimed it together."
"What?" Darren hissed in an undertone that only Maeve, Fergus, and Cailean could hear. "Ye're jokin'."
"He's nae jokin'," Maeve murmured quietly. "Think of it: the people need a king with a male heir, and until Cailean is wed, there's nae even a queen tae fall back upon."
Darren took a breath, then nodded. His loyalty shone through as, though it was clear he had many more questions, he simply stood at Cailean's side and nodded. "I would be more than happy tae offer me hand tae yer lovely lass," he said.
The whole room seemed to hold its breath.
Then Murtagh laughed, long and loud and cold, no humor in it whatsoever. "Ye offer me somelad!" he declared. "Ye call him yer heir, yet ye already told me ye're betrothed. How long dae ye think till yer woman bears ye a boy and young Bruce's claim means nothin'?"
"There's nae guarantee of that," Cailean argued. "And beyond that, he will still be the leader of the Bruce clan. They have already reclaimed their homeland, and once we have won, theywill be amongst the most powerful clans in Scotland. Do ye not wish yer daughter tae have such a powerful husband?"
"I wish me daughter tae bequeen!" Murtagh declared furiously. He balled his hands into fists. "I dinnae want yer leftovers, McNair. Yewillwed me Sorcha, or there will be nae alliance between us. This is yer final warnin'."
Cailean took a step back, his hand drifting to brush Maeve's arm as a gesture of solidarity and love, his friends at his side. "I have made me counter-offer. I have nothin' else tae give ye, Murtagh."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop all of a sudden, icy cold and dangerous. Murtagh spoke again in a voice that was eerily calm now, devoid of the anger and heat from moments before, and infinitely more deadly.
"Ye're makin' a mistake, lad," he said coldly. "Without me support, without the support of me allies, yer ambitions are little more than the dreams of a foolish boy who should have died long ago. Ye should have burned when yer brothers and sisters did. Perhaps then ye wouldnae be here, bringin' shame on yer name."
Anger flushed through Cailean's face. "I will take me leave," he said stiffly. "I see we have nothin' more tae talk about here."
Murtagh's voice was like the blackest of ice on the coldest winter day. "Ye're right. We have nothin' more tae talk about."
Before anyone could react, the guards who had lined the walls suddenly surged forward, surrounding Cailean and the others where they stood.
