A ripple of shame passed through the room.
“I willnae ferget that,” Baird continued, feeling overwhelmed by grief. “And neither should any of ye. Our strength has never come from numbers, nor lands, nor coin. It comes from loyalty, from kenning that the man beside ye will stand firm even when the wind howls and the ground shifts.”
He straightened, wondering if he had any more traitors in his midst. His eyes traversed the distance of the entire chamber.
“Filib broke that bond. Betrayal of that kind is death by our law, and by the laws of every clan worth its name. And make nay mistake, hewillanswerferit.But we must be clever as well as just. Justice without wisdom is only vengeance. And vengeance without thought tears a clan apart.”
Several men lowered their gazes, chastened.
“So, hear me well,” Baird said, while his voice was ringing through the chamber. “We honor Malcolm not by spilling more blood than needed, but by protecting the people he would have bled fer. We will show fairness. We will show strength. And when the time comes, Filib will face the fate he earned with his own hand.”
He let the silence settle, and his words sink in.
“Stand loyal,” Baird finished quietly. “Stand fair. Stand taegether. It’s what Malcolm would have wanted. And it’s the only way we win what’s coming.”
“Aye, me laird,” came the chorus of voices.
They filed out one by one, leaving Baird alone with the echo of their footsteps and the heavy shadow of unspoken truths. For a moment, he let himself sag back into his chair, pressing a hand to his brow.
He had spared Filib today. But it was not mercy… it was war.
“So that’s how it ended,” Kenny said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the edge of Baird’s desk. “Filib lives, fer now. The Council was split, but they’ll stand behind the laird’s decision.”
Davina stood near the hearth, listening with a thoughtful crease between her brows. She had insisted on hearing everything that transpired, and Baird hadn’t stopped her. She deserved to know.
Baird exhaled slowly. “The law says treason deserves death. But killing him now would stir up more trouble with his clan than we can afford.”
Davina nodded, stepping a little closer. “Ye made the right choice.”
He lifted his gaze to hers, surprised by how steady and certain her voice sounded.
She continued softly. “Filib will face justice. But ye showed restraint. Ye chose what was wisest fer the clan, even though…” Her voice gentled further. “Even though I ken it didnae come easy.”
It hadn’t. Every muscle in his body had fought him. Every memory of Malcolm had screamed for blood. And there she stood, seeing him in a way few ever had.
“Aye,” he admitted quietly. “It didnae come easy.”
Davina’s eyes softened. “That is how ye ken that it was the right choice.”
Kenny cleared his throat, offering a small, tactful interruption. “She’s right, ye ken. Malcolm was a good man, but he’d have chosen caution over starting a needless feud.”
“Ye’re both right,” Baird nodded. Then, he turned to Davina. “I appreciate yer words.”
A faint blush warmed her cheeks. “I only spoke what I felt.”
Before he could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the study door.
“Enter,” Baird called, glancing up from the maps spread across his desk.
A young messenger stepped inside, with his cheeks flushed from running. He held out a folded letter sealed with Fletcher wax. “From Clan Fletcher, me laird.”
Baird nodded. “Leave us.”
The boy bowed and slipped out. Baird stood with the letter, as if he had no idea what to do with it.
“Well,” Davina murmured, “open it. Please.”
Her voice brought him back to the present moment. Baird broke the seal, and the parchment crackled softly in rebellion. His eyes went over the words, soaking them up.
