Hugh halted a yard in front of him and stood with his legs apart in a wide stance. For a long moment, they took each other’s measure. Hugh was a big, square-faced man who bore a strong resemblance to Connor’s father and Ragnall. As the youngest of his father’s six sons, he couldn’t be much over thirty, though his years at sea made him look older.
When Connor’s father was made chieftain, Hugh took up pirating. Judging from the colorful stories told about him, Hugh was successful at his trade. Some believed he could call up a sea mist at will, because of the way his boats disappeared after an attack. Others said Hugh had a large stash of gold hidden on the Isle of Uist—and that he fed captured children to the sea dragon that guarded it.
“I heard the two of ye were back,” Hugh said, resting his hand on the hilt of the long dirk in his belt. “Ye should have come to the castle to pay your respects.”
“If the men who used to work our land still did,” Ian said, “perhaps I could have spared the time for a wee visit.”
“The rest of ye stand back,” Hugh said, and lifted his hand. “I need a private word with the prodigal sons here.”
He waited to speak until the others backed away a few paces.
“I was merely encouraging your da to pledge his loyalty,” Hugh said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “But now that you’re here, I’ll accept your pledge in his place.”
Anger pulsed through Ian; his hand itched to reach for the claymore strapped to his back. One good swing and he could rid the clan of this vermin.
Ian made no effort to keep his voice down. “While my father lives, I’ll no be making decisions for him.”Ye slimy bastard.
“I hear he’s lost his mind, as well as his leg,” Hugh said. “It’s your duty to step up and take his place as head of your family.”
“As all the men here know,” Ian said in a loud voice, as he swept his arm out to encompass the men gathered around them in the churchyard, “my father fought in many battles with the Lord of the Isles to protect our clan. He merits the respect of his son and his clan.”
The men responded with nods and grunts of approval.
“I will not take my father’s place nor give his pledge,” Ian said, glaring at Hugh.
“And where does your father stand, Alexander Bàn MacDonald?” Hugh asked.
“If ye have to ask, my guess is he hasn’t given ye his support,” Alex said with a smile that suggested he knew very well his father wouldn’t favor Hugh. “Ye don’t suppose he has reservations about your ability to lead, do ye?”
The vein in Hugh’s neck pulsed as he flicked his gaze between Alex and Ian.
“In the end, he’ll bend his knee with all the rest of ye,” Hugh snapped. “Ye can tell Connor the same when ye see him.”
Ian turned to speak to the men behind him, leaving Alex to cover his back.
“As the son of Payton, a nephew to our dead chieftain, and a man of this clan,” Ian shouted, “I call for a gathering of the clan to choose our next chieftain, as is our custom.”
When Ian turned back, Hugh looked as if he would have liked to plant his claymore in his chest, but another round of approving grunts had him thinking better of it.
“That’s a fine idea,” Hugh said through his teeth. “We can all go into the hall of the castle and do it right now.”
Hugh’s men, a rough lot from his pirating days, raised their fists and shouted their agreement. For a moment, Ian feared he had lost control of the crowd, but it was soon evident from the silence of the other men that they did not agree with Hugh’s suggestion.
“Every man is entitled to a voice in the selection of our chieftain,” Tait called out. “Word must be sent to every member of the clan, with a date certain.”
There was a loud murmur of agreement.
Hugh could read the crowd as well as Ian. “We’ll confirm my place as chieftain at the Samhain gathering,” he said. “I’ll send word out that I expect every man to come to the castle and make his pledge.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. At least they wouldn’t have to fight their way into Dunscaith, since Hugh had agreed to a formal gathering to select a chieftain.
“Now, let’s see those babes christened.” Hugh signaled to his men, and the crowd parted for them as they headed for the church door.
“You’ve got ballocks,” Ian said to Alex, as they waited for the other men to go inside the church. “ Do ye suppose my father has reservations about your ability to lead? ”
“Me? I was just trying to make Hugh’s eyes bulge as much as you did.”
They shared a dry laugh, then started for the church.
