“One of the Leary clan,” Aiden commented.
“On the castle grounds?” Harris asked incredulously.
“Aye. I daenae ken where the weak spot is, but we must find it,” Fergus ordered.
“We want guards posted at the edges of the woods. He came through the forest, got close enough to injure the Laird,” Aiden said firmly.
Harris, usually against any kind of violence, sighed heavily.
“If we must. Protectin’ the castle and the Laird must take priority.”
“I thought the Leary clan was wiped out,” Finlay said, his voice trembling with age, not fear.
“I thought so, too,” Fergus said flatly. “But I suppose I must have missed a few. Perhaps he was the last one.”
“Doubtful,” Finlay mused.
“Then we’ll post guards along the forest and also at the back gate. We cannae allow them to get that close again,” Harris said, surprising Fergus.
He’d expected him to put up more of a fight about the guards, but Harris was determined to protect the castle.
“I’ll order the guards tonight,” Fergus suggested. He wanted to pick the men himself, pick out the brightest and strongest of them to protect the castle and those who dwelled there.
“Aye,” Finlay said. “I agree. But what will we do if we do catch one of the Leary clan? Should they be killed on sight?”
Fergus shook his head. “Nay. I want to ken who’s headin’ the clan since I ken it cannae be Leary. I want them captured and thrown in the dungeon. I’ll make the guards aware of that.”
Finlay nodded. “Then it’s settled.”
The rest of the meeting was indeed everything that bored Fergus to tears—the state of their vegetables and livestock, how much gold they had stored, what taxes they would take from the clan.
Fergus managed to get through it without falling asleep although it was a near thing.
He exited the council room immediately after Finlay called the meeting over, striding to the quarters where his trained soldiers lived.
Fergus let out a shout, and then his men lined up, knowing the drill. They lined up straight, shoulder to shoulder, some of them with bags under their eyes but not a single complaint among them.
“I need yer help, lads,” Fergus started, and the soldiers stared at him, waiting for instruction. “One of the Leary clan got onto the castle grounds today through the forest. I’m stationing twenty of you around the castle, at the edge of the woods, to intercept them.”
“Aye,” the yelled in unison, and Fergus felt his chest swell with pride. He’d trained them well.
Fergus picked out each man himself, exhaustion settling over him like a shroud. He fought it off, knowing that he needed to finish this.
“Should they be killed, Me Laird?” Gordon Duffy, one of Fergus’ strongest men, asked.
“Nay,” Fergus answered quickly. “They’re just to be captured. I want them interrogated. I want to do it myself.”
Gordon nodded.
Fergus sent the twenty men off with another twenty to relieve them in a few hours. They would be constantly vigilant, so they needed to work in shifts.
He knew that all that was left was to wait, but he couldn’t help being impatient. He wanted to stalk through the woods, find the remnants of the Leary clan, and wipe them all out.
They’d taken everything from him.
But he couldn’t. He knew that he needed to let his men do their jobs.
And they would do it well. He knew it.
