26
THE EMPTY CASTLE
Campbell sat in front of the fire, his leg, or what was left of it, propped up on a log to rest. It had been a grueling day, a grueling year, if Campbell allowed himself to think that way. But once he got the taste for war, it was impossible to satisfy. And if Seamus had been successful at anything, it was sparking Campbell's hunger for blood.
He was not the young man he once was, but Campbell still sought glory and victory for himself. The experience he had gained over the years only gave him an edge. He was no longer fooled by a disloyal council, nor did he rely on the word of any man. He had learned a long time ago that the only one he could trust was himself. Giving second or third chances wasn't in his nature. He lived according to the philosophy that a betrayal meant death, no questions asked. His men knew that, and they feared him because of it. It was just the way he wanted things.
“We are set to cross the borders in the morning,” one of his men told him. “It has taken longer than we expected, but the size of our army is so large that we cannae travel any faster.”
“Aye,” Campbell bit out. “It is our numbers that will give us the victory, nae our timing. When we attack tomorrow, Seamus will nae ken what to do. He will be left scrambling.”
Campbell swirled the whiskey in his mug, watching the amber liquid dance under the light of the fire. Tossing the entire contents of his cup back in one swig, Campbell savored the burn that traveled down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. He relished it and the relief it brought him from the throbbing in his leg.
“I come from a line of great Celtic kings, ye ken.”
He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, rather letting his eyes lock on the red-hot coals at the bottom of the fire. The rest of the men who had been brave enough to sit beside him grew quiet, fearing how Campbell would react if they didn't. It didn't matter that they had all heard his stories countless times. It didn't matter that the details grew more exaggerated and extreme with every retelling. It mattered that they listened in forced awe.
“They were feared for all that they could do. They conquered land and sea, taking what they wanted, when they wanted it. All who saw them feared them. They claimed these lands generations ago. And now all these Lairds have moved in, thinking that they own the place.” He spit into the fire, watching it steam against the hot coals. “Fools. The whole lot of them. None of them can defend themselves against me.”
The other men around the fire shifted a bit uncomfortably. No one knew what to say or how to answer. They had seen how ruthlessly Campbell would turn on a man simply for saying the wrong thing. They had watched him behead Laird MacKenzie without a second thought. No one wanted to be next.
Campbell hardly noticed them as he continued his ramblings.
“They have all tried. Some beg for mercy, for me to spare their families. Others say nothing as they ken that death is coming. Even those who have put up a fight against me have fallen. Seamus will be nay different. Tomorrow, when we invadeDrummond Castle and start burning down villages, he will see just how foolish it was to have crossed me. He will nae get the same kindness I showed MacKenzie today. Nay,” Campbell growled, rubbing his hands together in delight. “I intend on making that insolent fool beg for death by the time I am finished with him. He will wish that I had killed him years ago, as I should have.”
Finally, Campbell looked up to see who was still listening. He had gained a few curious looks from some of the MacKenzie men who had pledged their fealty to Campbell earlier. They did not know the history Campbell had shared with Seamus, so he decided to enlighten them.
“Ye may be wondering why I have left the Murray lad alive all these years. It is a question I have often asked myself. Until now, I needed to ken that I would have the support or the ability to overpower the Murray Clan should I need to. By keeping Seamus alive, the rest of the clan bent to my will easy enough. They would have rioted the moment they thought any chance of things returning to their previous way of life was gone. I needed to ken that some other kin would nae come out from the woods and claim their right to the land, as if it was theirs to take.”
He huffed a laugh that lacked any humor.
“But now that I have the MacKenzie army to back me, now that I ken that nay one, nay villager or long-lost relation can stand a chance against me, there is nay reason to keep Seamus alive any longer.”
Campbell thought for a moment, the firelight dancing across his twisted expression of demented glee.
“I think I will start with that bonny wee lass of his. I will break her before I so much as lay a hand on him. Then we will all get to see just how easily the pathetic lad cries.”
Emptying his cup once more, Campbell didn't see the looks of horror and dismay that were passed around the fire. But hedidn't need to. He knew that they were all terrified of him, and that was just how he intended to keep it. In all his years, he found that the best way to get his men to do what he wanted was to keep them on their toes.
“Sir, pardon the interruption, sir.”
Campbell spun around to see a pasty young chap with his chin tucked in a pseudo bow. Eyes kept to the ground, he waited for Campbell to address him. From the muddy riding boots and messy hair, Campbell assumed this was one of the scouts he had sent out earlier, back to give a full report.
“I hope it is good news ye bring me. Ye should hope for that, too. I am nae in the mood for anything else.”
The messenger swallowed hard but nodded. Shifting, he clasped his hands behind his back, as if that could stop Campbell from seeing how they shook. Campbell chuckled, took another swig, and gestured for the young man to speak.
“We have done as ye asked. With our covers, we infiltrated the Murray lands once more to learn as much as we could about the state of Drummond Castle and where things are at with Seamus.”
“And?” Campbell asked, his patience already wearing thin.
“The rebels have left the castle all but entirely abandoned. Only a small group of servants, mostly elderly women, remain to see to the castle's upkeep. The village is equally unguarded.”
“So ye are saying that it is prime for the taking.”
“Aye, sir. We encountered nay resistance on our journey there or back. There is nay one at the borders to guard it. The only people we saw were villagers, feeble ones at that.”
“That is good news. Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
