“Ye have trouble with clan McGowan,” MacLean went on, slowly rounding the end of his table to approach Lord Hamilton. “So do we. There is a silver caravan on the morrow; we were tae raid it together. Led by the Laird’s brither, Kyle McGowan, who killed me brither, and who I will have vengeance on.”
“No!” Laila shouted, and Lord Hamilton snapped his attention back to her. He saw that she knew her mistake immediately, and he felt his rage bubbling up like a pot of boiling stew that would only grow hotter and hotter.
“Kyle McGowan,” Lord Hamilton growled, studying Laila closely, seeing the blush in her cheeks. “Who is this man to you, my bride to be? Hm?” She kept her eyes downcast, her shoulders rigid. “Answer me!” Lord Hamilton bellowed, sweeping aside a row of mugs, sending them clattering across the table and down onto the floor.
“I think ye already know,” MacLean said, taking another step closer. “The MacGowan’s stole me land. They killed me brither, and they tried tae steal yer bride. I ask ye tae honor our agreement, tae raid the caravan together. With that silver, we can hire men and buy weapons and take back our haem, and ye, ye can kill the runt that killed me brither, the run that soiled yer bride.”
“Is this true, wench?” Lord Hamilton said, inching closer to Laila, heaving his bloated, decaying leg behind him with each step. “Speak!”
“You are a pig of a man,” she said finally, lifting her eyes to his. “I will not bow down to you. I came here willingly, to spare my family and to spare the McGowans. But now I see you are nothing but a devil in disguise, a vengeful beast with no intent to honor the terms of my surrender. Shame on you! Shame—”
Lord Hamilton struck her hard, sending her spiraling out of her seat and thumping hard against the ground. Then he pointed to her and spun his head around, shouting, “Bind her! Do it now!”
He noticed Walter shrinking up against the wall, his face squirming under the sudden tense pressure of the room. Lord Hamilton made a mental note to punish him later. The cur had no courage, no will to follow orders.
“I said bind her!” Lord Hamilton shrieked, and two sellswords hustled over, taking lengths of rope and tying Laila’s hands behind her back. She seemed stunned from the blow, and her head lulled about in a daze as the men went about tying her tightly. When she was bound, the men set her against the wall, and her head flopped forward.
Lord Hamilton waddled over, and with great effort, sank onto the bench across from her. He leaned forward and grabbed hold of her chin, a bruise already appearing on her cheek from his blow. He shook her head about until her eyes flickered open, and she stared straight ahead at him with intense hatred.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he hissed at her, his spittle flickering out onto her face. “You think you’re so brave. A rebel! Ha!” he jerked her head around a bit as he spoke. “I will break your will, you little rebel. I will kill your little McGowans. Nobody in this world can challenge me! Nobody! Do you hear me?”
Laila grinned up at him and spat directly into his face. Wretching, Lord Hamilton threw her head backward into the wall and gave a little grunt as her head fell downwards again.
“Keep her close,” Lord Hamilton snarled. “I will deal with her more later.”
“So, we are agreed?” MacLean asked, stepping closer. “We will attack the caravan?”
“We are agreed,” Lord Hamilton said, glancing down at Laila once more before turning his attention to the Scotsman. “Nobody in this world can challenge me. You have done well, Scotsman, to seek out my aide rather than my wrath. When you take back your home, I am sure we can do business. How did you know about her and this Kyle McGowan?”
“We spotted them in the market together, and I saw how they were at the feast,” Simon interjected. “They weren’t fooling anybody. It is telling in its own right that she surrendered to us to save him.”
“Aye,” Lord Hamilton said. Then he snapped his attention to Walter and yelled, “bring me ale! Now!” Then he turned back to Simon and continued, “The audacity of that wench. This McGowan, he has crossed me, and I will not stand for it. Where will you strike this caravan?”
“Nearby,” MacLean said. “On the road tae Stirling.”
“How many men will they have?”
“Not enough,” Simon interjected. “Perhaps fifty at the most. We are twice their number and have heavy horse.”
“Good,” Lord Hamilton sneered, glancing once more at Laila, her head lulling against her shoulder. Perhaps he had struck her a bit too hard. On the other hand, she had to learn. “I will kill this Kyle myself,” then he turned to MacLean and said, “but you may have the head.”
“And the silver,” MacLean said.
“Yes, yes,” Lord Hamilton scoffed, “and the silver.”
“Then it is all settled,” Simon said, raising his mug. “To victory.”
“Victory!” MacLean said, joining the toast.
“Vengeance, my friends,” Lord Hamilton snickered, taking the mug that was offered him. “To vengeance.”
“Aye,” MacLean said, his smile turning wicked. “Tae vengeance.”
They toasted and drank, and Lord Hamilton had more food and drink brought to him as he propped up his leg and kept a weary eye on the unconscious Laila. How strange this whole journey had become. When he left London to collect her, he had no idea it would bring him all the way into Scotland, preparing to raid a caravan and put a clan in their proper place. It was a bit bewildering, but the more conflict arose, the more he enjoyed it.
It had been far too long since he had flexed his financial muscles and pulled the strings, and he was beginning to actually enjoy himself. Perhaps when this was done, he would deal with the Willby’s. One of them should die, at least, perhaps two. Perhaps three, and then Laila would inherit their lands, and in turn, it would become his. Now, that was a thought he could get accustomed to.
Lord Hamilton smiled as he pushed aside his platter and held out his mug to be filled once more. Things were shaping up just fine. These Scots would prove useful, but as soon as the silver was theirs, he would kill them all and take the silver for his trouble. It was the least he was owed for this trek, and the sum could even pay for the sellswords, making that business expense nullified.
It was a fine plan, and that was what Lord Hamilton was best at—making plans—and it felt so good to be making them once again. This was how he had risen to power. This was how he would maintain it. And he enjoyed every dripping ounce of it. It was good to be Lord Hamilton, and Lord Hamilton knew it.
