The priest cleared his throat. “Captain Mathe spoke with me.”
“Aye. And I will tell ye the same thing I told him and the council. I have no desire to…”
“Yer soul is in jeopardy, milord. I am aware of yer many sins—murder—blasphemy, fornication—even greed.”
Alex chuckled at the last one. “Every Highlander is guilty of greed, Priest. Even the Pope is guilty of greed.”
Father Michael wobbled a bit, quickly seating himself on the bench. “Ye’d accuse the Holy Father of such a vice?”
“I’d accuse any man of wanting silver and gold, lands, and power. Tis inherent in every man born.”
“Christ wasborn.”
“Doona try to trap me by using my own words against me, Father Michael. Speak yer piece, then leave me to contemplate my own future.”
“The clan needs ye. The church…”
“Needs the annual donation my sire and brother generously sent to Rome?” Alex reached inside his tunic, pulling out a small leather pouch. “I willna deny ye what funds ye’ve honestly earned, Father. I’ll deny no man his living. Will ye?” He offered the priest the money.
Reluctantly, Father Michael accepted the pouch, placing it on the space between them. “Nay. God commanded every good man to toil.”
Alex scrubbed his face. “Tis good to know the Lord willna deny me a living either.”
“Alexander. I’ve known ye since ye were a bairn. Ye were a God-fearing lad, curious and of strong moral character. If yer sire ordered ye to do something, without hesitation ye’d do it. I remember the boy who sat quietly upon his bench, listening contentedly to the liturgy, asking for guidance if ye dinna understand something. What happened to that lad?”
He stared at the priest. “I grew up.”
“Will ye listen to reason, Alex? Remember the story about the man who built his home on sand?”
“Aye. Ye couldna pick a better illustration, Father. My homeisbuilt on sand, and I intend to travel there within a sennight.” Through with the priest, Alex stood. “I’ve chosen Jamie as the next laird.”
Father Michael nodded in appreciation. “He’s capable.”
“Aye.”
“But his proclivity for women…”
“Will be over the moment he weds Keely Oliphant.”
“What?”
“A goodly match, I think. It will finally achieve what my sire long wished for, a true alliance between the MacKays and the Oliphants. United, we will have access to more soldiers and coin to defend ourselves against the Sutherlands.”
“Ye’d speak of such things when yer only brother has been freshly entombed within these sacred walls.”
“Life goes on, Father, does it not? John died for the very reason I wish to hurry my cousin’s nuptials with the lass. I will make sure the clan is secure and well-funded before I sail for Constantinople. And in the future, rest assured I will continue to send coin to maintain this place. I willna leave my kinsmen hungry and vulnerable.”
“Though I believe ye, time and distance have a way of making a man forget his responsibilities.” The priest arched a brow.
Alex chose to say nothing as he left the kirk. Now he could add the priest to his list of disobedient servants. When his sire had been laird, fear kept his subordinates in line. The problem here now was none of these people really knew Alex or what he was capable of, even though he’d killed a man yesterday in defense of Keely.
*
He wandered insidethe great hall, ignoring the invitations to have a drink in appreciation of his brother. Food and ale were plentiful today, for the MacKays dinna just mourn a lost laird, they celebrated their accomplishments with a feast and music, even dancing once everyone was drunk enough.
Alex wanted nothing to do with it. Just as he’d told the priest, his clan needed to see that life would go on without Laird John, and now, without him. He sought refuge in the solar, happy to keep company with Petro. More intelligent than any man he’d ever met, the Italian had a peculiar way of calming Alex’s inner storms.
“I am truly sorry for your loss.” The scholar looked up from a manuscript.
