Laird McGregor hesitated. That pause made James’ stomach twist in knots. The last time the baron had made demands like this, James had lost his sister. He doubted this could be any better.
“… Taryn’s head, delivered to him on a platter.”
“Ye cannae! Nay! I will nae let ye!”
James was shouting, moving through the crowd towards the Laird, before he knew the words were coming out of his mouth and not just ringing in his head. For a brief moment, the Laird looked down on him with sad, tired eyes that showed little interest in finding another solution.
He doubted that the Laird had even been able to hear the rest of James’ refusal, as the rest of the room lit up in panic. Voices rose and echoed throughout the tall ceilings overhead, bouncing back down to the stone floor. Each one making a different point, contracting their neighbor.
“This has gone too far.”
“Give the lass over to him. Let him do with her as he pleases.”
“We never should have given into his demands in the first place.”
“Och, we have nae missed her for the last three years. I dinnae see the problem.”
“She is just a lass! This is nae all her fault. We should have fought against the Baron years ago.”
“Aye. It is because of the first treaty we tried to make with him that we are in this problem. She should never have been promised to him in the first place.”
“Nay use talkin’ of the past. That will nae solve this now.”
“We should fight.”
“Ye and what army? We are too weak to fight.”
“Why send hundreds of men off to die when only one life will bring us peace?”
The vein in James’ jaw throbbed from the strain of clenching his teeth so hard. His fingernails created little crescent shaped divots in his palms as he fought for control of his temper. He knew that if his mother were there to bear witness to how rude James had been to the Laird, she would have cuffed him on theears. He didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, Laird McGregor was no longer a man worth the effort to respect.
James inched closer to the Laird’s high seat, only stopping once he could see the lines in the Laird’s face. A few steps away, Jonah watched the chaos, his sharp eyes marking every face for and against his own daughter’s execution. It made no sense to James how Jonah could stand there as if they were discussing the menu for a feast and not Taryn’s life. James’ own blood was boiling at the thought of hers being spilled.
“What are ye going to do?” James asked in a pointed whisper, glaring at the Laird first and then at Jonah. “How can ye be sure that the Baron will nae change his mind again, as he has so often done already? Only, yer only heir will be dead and there will be nay one else for ye to pin the blame on. So tell me, tell us all, what will ye do?”
He hadn’t noticed it over the thunderous beating of his heart in his chest, but James’ address to the Laird had caught the attention of nearly everyone standing close enough to hear. Others further away still bickered and debated between themselves, but James didn’t care what they had to say, he only wanted the word of the man in charge.
“I-I,” Laird McGregor blinked, shifting his eyes away from James and towards the floor.
“Ye have already given that man one lass. How are ye going to bring Laura home? Or have ye forgotten about her too? Is she just going to be another casualty in this war ye refuse to fight in?”
“That is quite enough,” Jonah tried to cut in.
But James wasn’t finished. And seeing as he was one of the few armed men in the room, he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from having his voice heard. He had stood by silently for far too long. He wasn’t going to do so for another second.
“Are ye truly so desperate, so weak and willing as to hand over the head of yer heir, yer own kin, simply to make a vile man chuckle? As that is all he will do. It will only show him that there is nay limit to the power he has over ye. And then he will make another demand and another, until ye hand us all over. What a legacy ye will leave; the coward Laird who handed over a lass because he was too afraid to fight back.”
Those paltry stammerings were the only answer the man tried to give.
James spun and stormed out of the Great Hall, more than content to leave the rest of the clan members behind while they tried to argue their way into a better solution. He refused to waste another second, not when he already knew what he needed to do.
There was no one left in the corridors to stop him as he nearly sprinted his way back to Taryn’s cell. Everyone else was either in the Great Hall or rushing to spread the news throughout the rest of the clan. Fury drove him into the cold, dank cells without a single thought as to what he would do next, he only knew what he had to do now.
“James,” Taryn called out, welcoming but surprised he was back already. “What are ye doing here? I thought ye were?—”
“I am getting ye out of here. Get up. Let’s go.”
James fumbled with the keys, his ire making him unsettled. Taryn stood and moved towards him, confusion written all over her face. He had no doubt that she could see the anger brewing on his own, but he didn’t dare take the time to explain it. When the lock on the cell door finally clicked, he reached for Taryn’s arm, only for her to step back, just out of his grasp.
