“Campbell would sooner burn the entirety of the Murray Clan to the ground than see me take over as Laird. He would do anything to stop that from happening. A single village rising against him will do nothing to spark a fight. Campbell would be all too happy to see the entire village starve if that is what he thought it would take for me to break.”
“Surely nae. There are women and children in that village. There are bairns. Campbell would nae go so far as to kill them all needlessly.”
“He has done so before. What is to stop him from doing it a second or third or fourth time?”
They both grew silent at the darkness of Seamus' point. He hated knowing the veracity of what he was saying, but it had to be said all the same.
“Ye're right that Campbell will nae forgive the fact that I have cost him his kin, his leg, and a second fortress. But ye are wrong to think that any of that would cause him to act impulsively. He does nae care about the village or the villagers, but I do. He kens that and will use it against me. By barricading the village andstirring up a riot, we are only handing Campbell the ammunition he needs. We will weaken ourselves, nae him.”
Flora stepped in closer, forcing him to tilt his head back so he could look into her eyes. The gray orbs swirled around like Highland storm clouds, changing so unpredictably that you never knew which way the winds would blow. He braced himself to hear her disappointment, for her to call him weak and foolish. He certainly felt that way about himself. But as she opened her mouth to speak, those clouds shifted into something unerringly loving and steadfast, something he found he could anchor himself in.
“I cannae pretend to understand the dilemma ye are facing. I dinnae ken Campbell, I have nae witnessed his atrocities first hand. It is yer skin that bears his mark, yer mind that carries his scars. There is nay one in this clan who feels the agony of what Campbell has done more than ye. These are yer people,” she gestured to the window behind him and the view beyond. “Ye feel a responsibility towards them that nay one else can.”
His shoulders nearly buckled under the weight of her words. It was the first time he had ever heard anyone put words to his situation so well.
“It is because of this that nay one can make this decision for ye. Ye have listened to the thoughts and opinions of those around ye, as any good leader would do. Ye have weighed the risks and calculated the rewards for each plan proposed. And nay matter what Finn might say, the choice is ultimately yers. Ye are leading us forward, so ye must be sure of our direction.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against her belly. Her hands moved to wrap around his head, enveloping him in a comfort he so desperately sought. After being strong for so many for so long, never letting them see him waver, quelling their doubts while ignoring his own, he needed a moment to feel it all.
“My love, look at me,” she ordered gently.
Picking his head up after another moment, he took in a deep breath and found her eyes once more. They again had shifted, this time they were hard and strong like the steel of a blade, unbending.
“It is nay small thing that each of the men we journeyed here with pledged themselves to ye. That was nae simply a formality or a tradition to uphold. Those men gave ye their swords because they trust that ye will lead us where we need to go. They have seen what ye stand for and how ye fight, and chose to align themselves with ye. They trust ye. I trust ye. So now, ye must trust yerself. Make the decision that ye ken is right. And then ken that yer people are behind ye, willing to fight for that, nay matter the cost.”
Just as his mother had done all those years ago, tucked in a small library, Flora's words sparked something in him that made him want to be better. She challenged his doubts, his insecurities. Not just challenged them, vanquished them with her words, her touch, and her love. Her belief in him made him want to believe in himself. It made him want to stand up tall and march into battle with his head held high.
With one hand on her hip and the other cupping the side of her face, Seamus stood without letting Flora put so much as an inch in between them. As soon as he was at his full height, Seamus bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. He poured out his thanks, lavishing her with his love. He let his kiss tell her all the things he couldn't put into words. He only pulled away once he was sure she was flushed and yearning for him as much as he was for her. And then he gave her his answer.
“All I want to do, all I have ever wanted to do, is save as many people as I can. Everything else—the castles, the gold, the power—none of that matters. I want to see my people prosper. I cannae do that if I starve them first, if I sacrifice them to battle if only to hope I gain the upper hand. I will nae do it.”
This time, it was her kiss that caught him off guard. She moved so quickly that she stole his breath and didn't give it back for several seconds, staying pressed against him until he couldn't think of anything but her.
“We should go tell the others. They will be waiting to ken what ye have decided.”
Her words would have filled him with worry had she said them two minutes sooner. But the way she looked at him, full of pride and love, made him feel invincible. He was half tempted to storm into Murray Castle himself and seek Campbell out then and there. But for now, facing the war room would have to be challenge enough.
Taking her hand, they walked back through the castle to where Finn, Errik, and the rest of the men were waiting. The platters of food were now empty, as were their mugs of ale. Many of them looked impatient or bored while a handful had closed their eyes, weary from the journey. Finn, however, sat just as straight with the same determined look on his face, showing no signs of growing tired.
“Apologies for having kept ye waiting so long,” Seamus called as he walked inside.
He felt Finn's gaze drift to where Flora's fingers were still intertwined with Seamus'. Seamus refused to let go. He also opted to stand at the front of the room rather than seek his chair out again. He doubted that this would be a long conversation at all.
“I needed the time to think through all the options.”
“I still dinnae understand why ye think the decision is up to ye.” Finn crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Seamus of a boy who had his favorite toy taken away. “Who put ye in charge?”
“These men did,” Seamus gestured to those sitting on his side of the table, “when they pledged their swords to me. Theychose, at that moment, to allow me to lead them. And it is my impression that if we are going to defeat Campbell, that ye will need all of my men fighting alongside ye. So, I would think that gives me the right to make the decision. Nae to mention, the Murray Clan and I share one verra important thing that ye dinnae.”
“And what is that?”
Defiance dripped from every word out of Finn's mouth, but Seamus found it no longer bothered him. Rather, it made him sad to know that Finn must be feeling all the same things Seamus had, only Finn had isolated himself so much that there was no one to help soothe those feelings. It must have been a very lonely experience.
“A name,” Seamus told him simply.
His answer hung in the air for a moment, reminding everyone present that it was indeed Seamus' birthright to lead this clan. He came from a long line of leaders on both sides that one could argue leading was in Seamus' blood.
When Finn had no retort to give to that, Seamus decided it was time to continue.
