Lachlan kept his eyes sharp and his hand on his dirk as he and his father approached the house in which Hugh had set up camp.
“I don’t like coming back here, Father,” Lachlan said in a low voice. “We shouldn’t be putting our trust in a viper like Hugh.”
“He’s useful,” his father said and repeated the old adage, “My enemy’s enemy is my friend.”
The filthy, foul-smelling men who sat on rocks and logs in front of the house continued their games of dice and bones as Lachlan and his father walked past. It made Lachlan feel unclean to be known by such men.
“We must avenge the wrong committed against our family,” his father said under his breath, “for the sake of our honor.”
“Honor?” Lachlan hissed. “What honor is there in consorting with the likes of these?”
“Never forget that you have a sacred duty to avenge your mother,” his father said, his face hard. “Nothing but blood will satisfy it.”
Sometimes Lachlan resented that his father had passed this duty to him because he had not succeeded in taking vengeance himself. When the former chieftain took Lachlan’s mother into his bed, he banned Lachlan’s father from the castle as a precaution. His father could never get near him. In those days, the MacDonalds were strong and the chieftain always well protected.
“We’ll wait outside,” Lachlan said when the man guarding the door stepped aside to let them in. “Tell Hugh we’re here.”
It went against Lachlan’s instincts to be in an enclosed space with an unpredictable man he did not trust. Outside, they had a better chance of escape if things took an unexpected turn.
“Haven’t seen ye for a long while,” Hugh said in a surly voice when he appeared a few moments later.
“We’re here now,” Lachlan’s father said.
“I hear Connor has gone to the gathering at Mingary Castle,” Hugh said.
Lachlan grunted in the affirmative since Hugh already knew it. He had not given Hugh any information since he had made his oath to Connor. Although he had been careful to word it as a pledge of loyalty to the clan, and not to Connor personally, the difference between the two seemed a finer line all the time.
“’Twas no thanks to you that I learned my nephew went to Mingary,” Hugh said, glaring at Lachlan. “You’ve brought me nothing.”
Lachlan ignored him. Although Connor’s departure would be common knowledge by now, Hugh always seemed to be aware of Connor’s movements. Hugh must have someone else in the castle who fed him information, and Lachlan wondered who.
“My son is a warrior, not a gossip or a lad who runs errands for ye,” his father said. “I trained him from the time he could swing a wooden sword, and now he’s the best warrior in all of Trotternish. That is the reason ye want him.”
“If your son is so damned good,” Hugh said, “why hasn’t he killed Connor yet?”
Lachlan was tempted to show Hugh just how good he was with a sword.
“It doesn’t have to be Lachlan who kills him—I just want him dead,” his father said. “Whether it’s you or Lachlan, it must be done in such a way that no one discovers my son’s role in it. I don’t want him killed for taking the chieftain’s life.”
If it can be helped, Lachlan added in his head. He was not certain his father valued his life above vengeance. But that was the way in the Highlands.
“So tell us,” his father said, “do ye have a new plan to kill Connor MacDonald or not?”
CHAPTER 20
Why are ye taking Ilysa back to Trotternish?” Moira asked, her eyes blazing.
“Because my household is in chaos without her,” Connor said.
“How can ye be so inconsiderate?” Moira asked.
“Calm down,” Connor said. “I’ve no idea why you’re upset.”
“Men!” Moira said, raising her hands and looking to the heavens. “I finally persuade Ilysa to get out of those ugly gowns and headdresses, and she has men following her around—half a dozen of them serious about wedding her, I might add—and my brother the chieftain decides to bury her at Trotternish Castle and ruin her chances.”
“Ruin her chances for what?” Connor asked.
“For happiness!” Moira said. “That lass is so devoted to ye that she’ll sacrifice everything for ye—anyone can see that.”
