CHAPTER ONE
1703, The Council chamber, Castle Galbraith, Scottish Highlands
Oh, Lord, preserve us! Let it nae be true! This cannae be happenin’!
Crouched in her hiding place in an alcove behind a wall tapestry, Isla Galbraith pressed her knuckles to her lips to stifle her horrified gasp as the dreadful news currently under discussion in the Council chamber sank in.
She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but amid the alarming rumors that had been flying around Castle Galbraith for the last few weeks, and her growing fear for her brother Gregory’s life, she had felt compelled to take radical action. Accordingly, ahead of the meeting, she had stolen into the empty chamber and hidden away. But now, as the discussion progressed, she was beginning to regret it.
“This is the final chapter in this bloody war, and if we are tae survive as a clan, we cannae fail tae defeat Ballentine’s forces. The scouts say his army is camped less than a day’s ride from the castle, in Waverly Forest. He could launch his attack on us at any moment. We must get everyone inside the walls immediately and take urgent action to prepare for the upcoming battle,” Isla’s brother, the Laird of Clan Galbraith, declared decisively.
“Aye, I’ll give the orders as soon as we’re done here,” said a voice Isla recognized as belonging to Kelvin Moore. Kelvin and his cousin Domhnall Hastie were Gregory’s closest friends, in addition to being his war captains and military advisors. “From what the scouts say, Ballentine has about a hundred men with him, all mounted,” he added.
“If that’s right, then we can match those numbers.” That was Domnhall speaking. “There’s good cause tae be hopeful of defeatin’ an attack, even if it comes down tae open battle. But there’s another possibility we havetae tae consider.”
In her hidey hole, Isla waited, holding her breath to hear what that was.
“He could very well have concealed a bigger force elsewhere close by,” Domnhall explained.
A bigger force hidden somewhere, ready tae overwhelm us?
The very idea turned Isla’s blood to ice.
“Aye, that’s what I’d dae if I could,” Gregory said. “But how likely is it that he has more men? He’s already lost many fighters in this war, just like the rest of us. His resources are dwindlin’. ’Tis obvious that’s the reason he’s decided tae stake everythin’ on an all-out attack and put an end tae it once and fer all.”
“Likely so, but ’tis a desperate gamble. He could lose everythin’,” Kelvin observed.
“Maybe we should use the element of surprise and attack the camp first,” Domnhall suggested.
“That’s one possibility, aye, but I think we need more reliable information about his numbers before we dae that,” Gregory countered.
“Well, as it is, he has us more or less pinned down. How long can we last if he decides his best option is tae starve us out?” That was Domnhall again.
“Pardon me, m’laird, but it sounds as though we’re in sore need of Laird Allen tae send us reinforcements as soon as possible,” Isla heard one of the other councilmen say nervously, voicing her very own thought.
“Aye, and I’ve already sent a messenger tae inform him of what’s happenin’. I’ve nay doubt we can expect help from him very soon. But until then, whatever happens, we must handle it ourselves,” Gregory replied, his voice deep and unwavering.
Isla prayed silently that Laird Calumn Allen, the man on whose side they were fighting on in the war—the war he had started by conquering part of Ballentine’s territory—would indeed send an army to help them defeat the enemy at their gates.
“Would it nae be wiser tae come tae some agreement with Ballentine, m’laird? It would save many lives,” Isla heard the clan secretary, the elderly Malcolm Ogilvy, suggest.
Aye, quite right, Malcolm,Isla thought to herself, heartily agreeing with the old advisor’s sentiment.
“Ye mean we should surrender?” Gregory replied, his tone derisive. “I think ye’re goin’ barmy in yer old age, Malcolm. Ye should ken better. We Galbraiths would rather die before we dae that.”
The small hope that had flickered to life in Isla’s breast died at his words.
“Maybe I am goin’ soft in the head,” Malcom conceded, quickly adding, “but this is nae our war, ’tis Laird Allan’s. And yet here we are, with Ballentine heading tae our walls, and any of us here, along with our families, likely tae lose our lives in an attack or starve in a siege andthenbe killed.”
“We chose tae ally with Laird Allan in this fight,” Gregory responded in a tone that brooked no argument. “There was always a chance it would come tae this. We cannae go back on our word now. What would that say about us? I’d rather perish than have folks say we Galbraiths are cowards and turncoats.”
Ach, Greogory, ’tis just that sort of stubborn pride that could get us all killed,Isla raged silently, her hand over her mouth to stop the protest that threated to burst from her lips and reveal her presence.
“Kelvin, Domnhall, here are me orders. Start gettin’ the villagers safe inside the walls immediately. I want this place locked down as tight as a drum,” Gregory instructed his right-hand men. “And make sure any scouts who come in with news of Ballentine’s movements to report straight tae me. When ye’ve done that, come and join me in me study tae plan our defensive strategy.”
“Aye, m’laird,” his war captains chorused in their deep voices.
“And Connor,” Gregory told his private secretary, “send someone tae find Lady Isla and tell her tae put the plans in motion tae prepare fer an attack. She should arrange fer anyone who cannae fight tae dae their bit tae help. Tell her I’ll speak tae her later.”
