“Ailis is Colin’s heir, and that is more important than her cursed maidenhead,” snapped Duncan, cuffing his eldest son offside the head. “We are after her land, her dowry, and the alliance with the MacFarlanes, not her twice-cursed chastity. I dinna care who has bedded the wretched lass so long as ye are the one she weds.”
“I care!” yelled Donald, his pockmarked face turning a choleric hue. “The MacDubhs will pay dearly.” He tightly gripped the hilt of his sword.
“Ailis’s lost maidenhead is the least of our concerns,” Malcolm drawled, a quick glance assuring him that Colin’s men-at-arms remained out of hearing range. “The MacDubhs now hold the weapon we had planned to use against them, to break them. Bastards or nay, those children could be the only heirs Rathmor has. Barra MacDubh courts no woman save for Dame Ale, and Alexander has become so embittered that he trusts no woman and will take none to wife. He takes care not to seed any woman he uses. He doesna wish to give them the means to drag him before a priest. The children were a strong weapon whilst ye held it, but I think ye will never get it back now. MacDubh will expect ye to try and will be ready for ye. Rathmor is a nearly impregnable keep. Have ye any plan at all? Did ye never think that such as this could happen?”
“Aye, we did,” Duncan grumbled. “However, whatever we decide to do will take time, something we dinna have at this season of the year.” Duncan scowled and scratched his beard-stubbled chin. “Come the spring, the bairns will be back in our hands. The question we need to answer is—do we leave Ailis unransomed until we grab the bairns? I canna stomach giving the MacDubhs all they could demand in return for such a valuable captive. Colin willna be too pleased to part with the large ransom the MacDubhs could ask for the heir of Leargan.”
“Nay, Colin holds tightly to his purse,” William agreed, a brief look of confidence firming his round face.
Duncan nodded after looking at his youngest son in some surprise for his insight. “This must all be given some careful thought if we are to gain as much as we can out of this.”
“When the ransom is asked, willna Colinhaveto pay?” asked William. “If he deserts his own blood, he will never be trusted again by anyone who might hear about it.”
“Willie”—Duncan spoke with an exaggerated patience—“Colin MacFarlane is little trusted by anyone even now.”
“I think the question of ransom must remain unanswered for now,” Malcolm said. “I feel certain that Ailis will try and hide her identity. She isna stupid. It may be some time ere MacDubh kens that he holds someone who is worth ransoming.”
“I hope ye are right, Malcolm,” Duncan said, his voice heavy with doubt. “We need time to work out our plans.”
“Aye,” agreed Malcolm, “and right now time could prove to be our worst enemy.”
