Page 57 of Highland Sky

“That’s who she thought ye were, right?” asked Nash. “Ye were wearin’ my faither’s cloak and it was dark.”

“Aye,” the chieftain admitted.

“I canna listen to this any longer.” Nash started to stand up, but North reached across the bed, putting his hand on Nash’s shoulder and pushing him back down to sit.

“Stay and listen, Nash,” said North. “We need to ken what really happened, no matter how awful the truth is.”

“Go on, Chieftain,” said Tomas, listening intently.

“Bram didna hear her cries for help, but Una did.”

“My mathair,” Nash told Kellina.

“The two women fought about the accusations, but didna tell their husbands about it until the next day.”

“That’s when they met at the crossroads?” asked Kellina.

“Aye. I sent each of the couples a missive, pretendin’ it was from the other,” the chieftain continued, wiping his brow. “I wrote . . . I wrote that they wanted peace. To be friends again, like they once were. They were to meet at the crossroads to settle this once and for all.”

“God’s eyes, why would ye do that?” spat Nash. “Did ye really think they would make amends after what they thought had happened?”

“I was goin’ to tell them the truth . . . that it was me,” the chieftain told them. “I wanted them to ken . . . I was drunk . . . and sorry. That’s why I went to the crossroads as well.” Ciaran coughed and cleared his throat, and Kellina gave him a sip of ale.

“So, this didna involve both our clans at all?” asked North.

“Nay. Just the four of them, and no others,” answered Ciaran.

“That’s where they died. At the crossroads,” said Nash.

“Because ye let them fight and didna stop them!” North’s anger was showing now.

“Aye. I am ashamed to say, that is true.” The chieftain closed his eyes again, and looked like he was about to sleep.

“Wake up, Uncle.” Kellina reached out and shook him. “Ye need to tell us the rest.”

“Did they ken ye were there?” asked North. “Did our parents even see ye?”

“No’ at first, they didna,” said the chieftain in a soft voice. “I was late in arrivin’ . . . and I saw them . . . startin’ to fight. I kent I had to intervene. Avery wanted to kill Bram . . . for touchin’ his wife.”

“God’s teeth, why didna ye tell them the truth?” asked Nash.

“Because he kent they’d kill him, that’s why,” growled North. “This man is naught but a coward.”

“Nay, I tried to tell them, but they didna hear me,” protested the chieftain. “Both the men were angry. They . . . pulled their swords and . . . started to fight.”

“What did our mathairs do?” asked Nash.

“When Avery was about to kill Bram . . . Una rushed forward and . . . stabbed Avery from behind.”

“Nay! My mathair killed someone? I dinna believe it,” spat Nash, shocked to hear this information.

“Me neither,” added North. “She was a kind and gentle soul.”

“It’s . . . true, I’m sad to say.” The chieftain coughed up more blood, looking very pale now, as if his face was turning white like a ghost.

Nash saw Kellina’s body stiffen at hearing this last part. “So, my faither was killed by no’ just any MacKeefe, but yer mathair, Nash?” She moved away from Nash, looking disgusted and appalled.

“Ye heard the chieftain, Kellina. Yer faither was about to kill mine,” spat Nash. “My mathair was only tryin’ to protect the man she loved.”