“Samhain is less than three weeks away,” Alex said, worry tugging at his voice.
“It might be easier to take the castle by force,” Ian said, “than to persuade so many hard-headed MacDonalds of anything in so short a time.”
“Pity Hugh’s mother didn’t drown him at birth,” Alex said.
“Aye, ’tis a damn shame.”
The priest, who had a warrior’s build to go with his manner, stood at the doorway, making every man leave his weapons outside. “Now lads, ye can put your claymores in this pile and your dirks in that one. They’ll be no weapons in my church.”
“Did ye make Hugh Dubh and his men leave theirs?” Ian asked when it was his turn.
“I did,” the priest said. “And ye will leave yours as well.”
“You’re a brave man,” Ian said in a low voice. “If you’re a good one, too, then ye know that Hugh is the devil’s tool.”
The priest’s dark eyes flashed, and he gave Ian a slight nod.
“Ye can be sure that Hugh and his men kept a few dirks hidden from ye,” Ian said. “I mean no disrespect, but that means my cousin and I must keep ours as well.”
“Keep them well hidden,” the priest said in a low voice.
Ian leaned close to speak in the priest’s ear. “When the time comes, we’ll need every good man, including you, Father.”
“God will reward the righteous,” the priest said. “Now ye are holding up God’s work, so get inside.”
One look from Ian, and the boys who were sitting in the back pew got up to find other seats. He and Alex needed to sit closest to the door—and the piles of weapons outside. After they sat down, Ian searched the crowded church for Sìleas. It didn’t take long to find her near the front. Hair as bright as hers stood out, even among this many redheads.
“Who is that beside her?” he hissed at Alex.
“Beside who?”
“Ach, ye know damned well I meant Sìleas.”
Alex didn’t try to hide his smile. “I believe that’s your neighbor, Gòrdan.” After a pause, he added, “Gòrdan is a fine man. I’d wager the lasses find him handsome as well.”
Ian stewed as a dozen squalling babes were sprinkled and prayed over.
“By the saints, how many babes were born this year?” he complained.
“I’d say the men had a verra good winter,” Alex said.
Ian and Alex were the first ones out the door after the last babe was baptized. The drops of holy water didn’t have time to dry on the babe’s wee head before they had their weapons in their hands.
“ ’Tis good to have her again,” Alex said, kissing the blade of his claymore.
He and Alex stood side by side with their blades unsheathed as Hugh and his entourage filed out of the church.
Hugh stopped in front of them. “Mark my words, unless you’re dead by Samhain,” he hissed in a low voice, “you’ll be on your knees before me at the gathering.”
“One of us will be dead before that happens,” Ian said.
Ian met the gaze of each man as they came out of the church and passed him. He recognized most of them. Every man understood that the return of the Highlanders from France had shifted the balance of power here on Skye. Each man would have to choose sides.
When the last of Hugh’s men was on the bridge to the castle, Ian caught sight of Ilysa, Duncan’s sister. She was such a slight thing, it was hard to believe she and Duncan came from the same mother. In a shapeless gown and with her hair covered in a drab kerchief like a grandmother, Ilysa blended in with the married women. He only noticed her when she looked up and gave him a razor-sharp glance. Then she tilted her head, signaling she wanted to talk with him.
When he approached the group of women, they crowded around him asking about his travels. It took him some time to ease Ilysa away.
“I am sorry to hear you lost your husband at Flodden,” he said once they were out of the hearing of the others.
