The laird’s expression grew hard. “When I know I can trust ye, Laird Wallace.”
Well, that wasn’t going to be in Ian’s lifetime apparently. “Trust is a strong word,” he said slowly, trying to find the right things to say. The laird wasn’t making it easy on him nor was he truly listening to Ian. “Trust is something that is built over time,with actions.” This was something that Ian had learned from his own da.
“Trust,” the laird echoed, a smirk on his face. “Do ye really think that mah clan that has suffered so much will be able tae ever have that deep trust for a Wallace?”
“They won’t if ye keep on talking aboot it like this,” Ian snapped back, his ire starting to come through in his words. “If ye aren’t willing tae meet mah halfway on this, then this ceasefire will only fade out over time.” Ian leaned forward. “But if ye do, we can change the future for both of our clans. We can ensure that yer grandchildren and mine know a life without war, without bloodshed. Ye and I will go down in history as clans that found a way tae exist amongst one another.”
The laird looked at him for a moment before roaring with laughter, his entire body shaking from the motion. “Ye have good words in ye Ian Wallace, far better than yer da ever bellowed on the battlefield.”
Ian tried not to take offense to his words or lash out at the laird for that remark. His da was a fine warrior and he had no need for any sort of words whenever he was swinging his sword. “He had no need for words.”
“Mah laird,” Iris finally spoke up, a harsh edge to her words. “Perhaps we can move past the bloodshed and what is best for the clans for the future.”
Laird MacGregor sat back in his chair, flanked by two of his warriors and many advisors that were eyeing the two Scots with some trepidation. “Aye, perhaps we can Iris.”
Ian relaxed his stance as well, dropping his arms from his chest. “Wot is it that ye want from the Wallace clan?” he asked lightly.
“The question is,” the laird stated. “Wot do ye want Ian Wallace?”
The two lairds continued to go around in circles with their words, Ian trying to appease the laird but not give him anything that he wasn’t willing to sacrifice for this peace and Laird MacGregor attempting to push Ian to give up what felt like everything that the Wallace clan was.
Finally, Iris called for a respite and Ian stalked out into the hallway, away from the crowd. “Ian!” Iris called out, hurrying to his side. “Donna give up. Ye are doing well.”
“I am not getting through tae him,” Ian forced out, thrusting a hand through his hair. “I am a laird Iris! He’s treating mah like I’m some young Scot who hasna had the taste of blood on mah sword!”
She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. “But yer not,” she reminded him. “He’s an old fool stuck in the ways of the old. Ye canna expect him tae forgive all yer sins in a few hours but ye have tae show him that ye aren’t going away.” Her expression softened. “Da would have been proud of ye and the words ye are spouting Ian.”
Ian swallowed, realizing his sister was right. It would be far too easy for him to give up, to tell the laird that he was ceasing his talks and go back to the way things were. If he did so, then his family would be torn apart, Iris and James potentially in danger under the laird’s roof. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
He was doing this for his family. “Alright,” he finally said, giving her a tight smile. I willna give up, not yet.”
“I knew ye wouldna,” she grinned, releasing his arm. “I believe in ye Ian.”
His sister walked off and Ian conjured up in his mind another lass who said she believed in him. He couldn’t let Ida down.
He couldn’t let any of them down.
Straightening his shoulders, Ian shook off any lingering doubt that he couldn’t go against Laird MacGregor and convince him to see reason. He was a laird just like the old man was andthough he didn’t have much experience in being one, it didn’t mean that Ian wasn’t looking for what was best for both clans.
He just had to get the laird to see it.
7
“Nay. I am not changing the borders of mah land.”
Ian glared at the laird before him, feeling the start of his head hurting growing steadily by the moment. For hours they had been engrossed in a heated discussion on what each clan should give up for the sake of peace and none of it seemed feasible to agree to. The laird had started out with livestock that Ian had declined, and now they were up to Ian giving part of his land, the very land that the battles had raged on, for the MacGregor clan to do as they wished. “Perhaps, we should start tae discuss where yer borders are.”
“I’m not giving up mah land,” the laird shot back, his eyes glittering with rage. “Tis been in my family for generations.”
“Then ye can understand why I refuse tae do so as well,” Ian replied evenly.
Laird MacGregor placed both of his hands flat on the table and stood, his advisors with him. “Then we have nothing else tae discuss, Wallace. Yer clan refuses tae give anything for the blood they have shed over the generations!”
“The lot deserved it,” Dalziel muttered, who had been quiet up until that moment.
“Wot?”
Ian swore under his breath as the laird’s face turned red with anger. “Ye think that mah clan deserved their deaths?”
