15
A PLEA OF WAR AND PEACE
“Woah. Uncle Loch, ye did nae tell me that the McKenzies hadthismuch land.”
Aila couldn’t help but agree with Arran. They had made it to the McKenzie border just before tea time, and Aila found herself wondering if this part of the Highlands always looked so beautiful. Mountains rose high, casting tall shadows on the snow-covered ground below. The sun bounced off the white earth and reflected back across the scattered houses, the village center, and into Aila’s eyes. There were no signs of death or destruction here, a stark contrast to the Kincaid land.
“Is that the castle over there?” Aila asked, pointing to the stony building in the distance.
It had to be two or even three times the size of anything else she could see. With lush forests surrounding the building, it looked like something out of a children’s storybook—ideal and inviting yet strong and impenetrable at the same time.
“Aye. It will still be another hour or so before we make it there, but we should be in time for tea.”
Arran’s eyes, darkened by lack of sleep and the toll the journey had taken on his young body, were wide. It was clearthat his exhaustion and soreness had been forgotten at the sight of the McKenzie Castle.
“I have never seen a building so large! How many rooms do ye think they have? How many windows? Do ye think they have a large army? How many soldiers would they need to keep the castle safe? Maybe they will let us train with their men! Do ye think ye could ask them, Uncle Loch?”
Aila and Lachlan chuckled at the never-ending stream of questions that flowed from the boy the entire ride to the castle. He wanted to know everything from how old the castle was to what they ate for breakfast every morning. It wasn’t until they were approaching the looming metal gates that his questions slowed to a stop.
“Umm,” he said, tilting his head all the way back to see to the top of the gate. “How are we going to get in?”
“We are going to storm the gates,” Lachlan answered, his face completely serious. “Are ye ready? Did ye bring yer sword?”
Arran whipped around to look at his uncle, shocked that he would suggest such a thing. It took a split second for Lachlan’s face to break into a wide, mischievous grin.
“I am just messing with ye, laddie. They will come down to us. Dinnae fash. We are nae intruders here.”
Arran, visibly relieved, sagged in the seat, prompting Aila to lean over and whisper, “We will get him back for that one.”
That was all it took for Arran’s face to light up once more. Aila winked and then righted herself in her saddle, shifting nervously at the prospect of meeting the rulers of such a powerful clan.
“State yer business, sir.”
It was a curt greeting from the bearded guard standing behind the metal gate. With several more positioned atop the castle walls, bows loosely loaded with an arrow, Aila wondered just how accurate Lachlan’s explanation of their situation was.They may not be invaders or enemies of the McKenzie clan, but they certainly were not welcomed guests if this was any sign.
“I have urgent news for Laird McKenzie.”
The guard looked them all up and down with a grunt and a look in his eye that made Aila sure he wasn’t going to let them in. Lachlan spoke again before the man could order them away.
“Please. My wife and son and I have traveled a great distance to share this news with yer Laird. They are weary and in need of rest. I swear to ye, we mean nay harm and are here as friends.”
Convinced by Lachlan’s story, the guard gave a simple nod and motioned with his hand to open a door off to the side of the gate. One by one, the small family passed through on their horses, only to be greeted by a group of a dozen armed men on the other side of it.
“Lachlan,” Aila breathed nervously.
He reached across them and put a hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. With a warm smile, he managed to appease some of her worries.
“There is nothing to worry about. I would do the verra same thing they are doing, if we had the men to spare.”
“And a gate,” Arran added.
The boy had spoken earnestly, but it was said so dryly that Lachlan laughed and Aila chuckled.
“Aye, Arran. A gate first, then the men to guard it. I will make a list.”
Surrounded by McKenzie guards, the trio were escorted through the courtyard and towards the castle door. Tall, blazing fires burned in torches and outdoor fire pits every few feet, keeping the men outside warm. The stones had been swept clear of any snow that had fallen, giving them a clear path forward. Aila was taken in by the beauty of it all, though the courtyard paled in comparison to the castle itself.
Dismounting, they were walked inside, through the curved wooden door that had to be twice the size of Lachlan in both height and width. Candles were lit everywhere, as if someone was convinced that enough light could vanish the cold of the harsh Highland winters. Every wall they passed was adorned with a beautiful woven tapestry or a display of swords that must have been a hundred years old already. There were paintings in gilded frames and hallways carved out from the stone walls with dark wooden beams.
