Page 28 of Highlander’s Wrath

Mistress Elliot was a skilled healer. The next morning saw Laird Barclay waking fresh and rested. He dressed and ran down to the dungeons to discover if his captain had managed to squeeze out any more information from the prisoners during the night.

One man had been particularly forthcoming, and it was with him Laird Barclay spoke.

“Tell me everything ye ken about the man who took me son.” The laird indicated to the jailer he should fill up the prisoner’s mug with more sack and replenish the platter of food.

“Och, yer lairdship, I’ve had me fill o’ that devil and would be happy to see the back of him if he had nae left under such evil circumstances. I’ll no’ hold with harming bairns.”

The man took a swig of sack and continued.

“His name is Gregor McKay. He is the son of Mistress Sarah Farquharson, the only surviving daughter of the auld chief and the wife of Captain Angus McKay, his sergeant at arms. When yer faither killed Chief Farquharson and Angus McKay, it seemed as though poor Sarah lost her mind. It didnae help matters that yer faither crashed the wake to laugh and jeer at the mourners. She raised Gregor to avenge their deaths, just as yer lairdship himself was raised to avenge yer mither’s elopement, ye ken. When Gregor couldnae get close enough to yer lairdship to kill ye, he said he would take yer wee son instead and hold him hostage in exchange for yer life. Before he rode away, he told us: ‘Tell Laird Barclay he has a very simple decision to make—his life for the life of his son and heir.’”

“So, it seems I have been harboring a serpent in my castle,” Laird Barclay said through gritted teeth.

A loud voice spoke out from behind him, “Ye have been harboring naught but a vicious circle of hatred and fury in Barclay Castle, yer lairdship, and it is time for this nonsense to stop before every man and boy from here to the northern seas lies dead!”

Hamish twisted around in his chair. Father Abercromby stood at the dungeon entrance, his robes glowing in the darkness like the light from some judgmental prophet. The captain surreptitiously crossed himself and said a silent prayer.

Father Abercromby stepped down into the dungeon.

“It is time to stop this foolishness before my prophecy comes true, Hamish. I have grown up alongside ye, watched as ye took on the sins of yer faither as yer own, and it has tarnished yer spirit! For the last three months, ye have had a golden opportunity to make things right, to leave the misdeeds of others where they rightfully belong—in the past. But ye have nurtured yer faither’s poisonous ideals as if they were canon.”

Laird Barclay stiffened at these harsh words. He cast his mind back to how his father had behaved in the aftermath of Lady Barclay’s departure, blaming everyone else for her leaving and bullying anyone who tried to make him see he was the one at fault. Was he like his father? Intractable and wrathful?

Father Abercromby watched as his words sank in before continuing, “Now, I ken where Angus McKay’s auld bothy is up in the mountains, Hamish, and I have no doubt that’s where his son has absconded with wee Colban. But afore I tell its whereabouts, ye have an important decision to make.”

At these words, the worry on Laird Barclay’s face lifted. If the clergyman knew where his son was, there was hope.

“What of the poor girl ye mishandled yesterday, Hamish? Will ye leave her alone with her misery?”

Laird Barclay hesitated. He was deeply ashamed of his behavior toward Coira the day before, almost to the point of not wanting to confront her and apologize, for what could he say that could explain such dastardly behavior?

He knew Father Abercromby expected a reply. “I will go to her afore I leave for the McKay bothy, Father,” he said.

The clergyman shook his head. “It’s no’ as simple as that, ye see, Hamish. Coira left the castle early this morning. The groom tells me she rides for the village and from there, she will travel on to London. Your decision is simple. Either leave straight away for the bothy or go after Miss McDonald. Gregor McKay will keep yer son safe ‘til he has ye in the lad’s place, but the lady is making her way alone to the village through woods deeply covered in snow. The choice is yers.”