“I was only tae give you the summons and then leave at once. He expects you and your men at the fortress by midday tomorrow. Robert the Bruce is—”
“Amassing his forces in Argyll, aye, for a potential attack. We saw proof of it this morning.”
“Not potential, Laird! His men conducted a night raid three days past on forces garrisoned in a village not far from the fortress, slaughtering many, but a half dozen of the bastards were captured. Earl Seoras wants you tae attend their execution, which he believes will deter any further attack. That, and calling forth every baron under his command tae rally around him—”
“So it has begun.”
“Laird?”
Gabriel had spoken under his breath, and it wasn’t eminent warfare he had meant—but Seoras asserting at last his intent to claim the throne of Scotland.
With the help of Gabriel and his clansmen, of course, and other barons like him, all of them sworn to protect Seoras from Robert the Bruce. His expression grim, he held out the parchment to Allan.
“Take it. You’ve told me what I need tae know.”
“No, Laird, there’s more. Earl Seoras has commanded that your family attend—your brother’s children and your wife, Lady MacLachlan. Along with the execution, he plans a feast tae celebrate your marriage—”
“By God, what madness is this?”
His roar echoing around the bailey, Gabriel felt a steely hand staying his arm as he took a step to grab Allan by the throat.
“Gabriel, have a care.”
Finlay’s whispered warning near his ear, Gabriel glanced in fury at his cousin, who stared grimly back at him.
“He rides back this day tae report your every word…every action.”
With that, Finlay released him and stepped back, but not so far that he couldn’t again grab Gabriel, who felt as if he’d been doused with icy water.
A stark realization settling over him that Seoras would do anything to ensure that he supported his ruthless ambition…even if it meant holding his nieces and Magdalene as hostage under the guise of being guests.
No, he wouldn’t stand for it! Not the bairns at least. If it was just Magdalene, he would have a much greater chance of protecting her if the need arose…
“My nieces willna attend—and you can tell Earl Seoras as much. One has recently been ill and I fear the other may have caught the pestilence. I doubt your lord would want sickness at the fortress.”
“Is that the children there?” Allan nodded toward Keira and Rhona, who still huddled close to Magdalene. “They look well enough tae me—”
“Do you begrudge them a few moments in the warming sunlight? Maggie, take the girls into the garden!”
Gabriel held his breath at Magdalene’s look of confusion, but thankfully Keira took her hand to lead her toward a corner of the bailey where Malcolm had created a private garden for his wife. More precious coin spent when all else had deteriorated around him—but at that moment, Gabriel didn’t fault his brother.
“You see? One bairn only four and the other just turned six—far too young even without the recent illness for such a perilous journey with enemies all around. If they were yours, would you subject them tae such a risk?”
“Well, I…” Allan faltered, though in the next moment he straightened his shoulders. “It’s Earl Seoras’s decree, I only conveyed it tae you. Do what you will, Laird. Now I’ll be off—”
“Aye, and take care, Allan MacDougall, that you dinna find yourself struck by sneezing and coughing along the way.”
Now the young man blanched as he looked around everyone assembled as if they might carry the same pestilence. He couldn’t climb into the saddle fast enough.
With a terse nod at Gabriel, he veered his horse around and headed for the castle gates, not sparing a single glance behind him.
“Arrogant whelp.”
“Yet the earl’s own messenger,” Finlay said gruffly, shaking his head. “If you defy his command, Gabriel, he’ll judge that your loyalty is suspect—”
“Mayhap it is,” Gabriel cut him off, voicing for the first time what he had kept hidden in his heart. He wasn’t surprised that his captains and the other men around him didn’t appear taken aback, yet he’d taken a treasonous step forward that might affect them all. “I canna say what this journey may bring—”
“I follow where you lead, Laird MacLachlan.”
