Page 9 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

“Calm yersel’, Cinead,” Boyd stood and addressed the man before turning to the rest of the table. “If the men have moved this evening, there will only likely be an attack after a week or two, they will need tae regroup and settle in wherever it is they are moving tae. In the meantime, we will have our scouts keep an eye on the Steward men,” he stopped talking when Cinead rolled his eyes and interrupted him.

“What about the families on their farms? Are they tae pay the price for our laird supporting the Jacobites?” he spat angrily. “When we voted we were promised that the Jacobite uprising would nae interfere with the running o’ our own affairs.”

“Ye will address the laird with respect, Cinead!” Hamish raised his voice at the younger man. “Ye may be new tae the council, lad, but ye will show the due respect!” His eyes grew dark with anger as he issued his warning.

“Thank you, Hamish,” Boyd calmed him, motioning for him to sit. “I understand Cinead’s concerns as a representative o’ the families that live on our lands. I am sure that we can come tae some agreement that will put his mind at ease,” he looked to the men seated around his table.

Boyd was a fair man that always strived to keep the peace and do his best where everyone was concerned. It was for this very reason that the elder generations respected him as Laird, backing him in whatever choices he made. He felt a shiver of fear rushing through him. What if I let them down?

“If I may, my Laird?” Rory rose from his chair and stepped forward. “Well, I dae agree that it is unlikely that Callum will attack as soon as tomorrow, we could spare a few more scouts tae ensure that all o’ our people are protected. By patrolling the lands as well as the borders, we can ensure faster response from the castle should an attack occur.”

“Callum Steward has had it out for us ever since his niece disappeared, he thinks that the Camerons must have planned it as an act o’ aggression against his family. He will stop at naething tae avenge his family!” Cinead burst out again slicing his hand through the air to make his point.

Boyd felt his anger grow at the mention of Cora’s family and their disappearance.

Hamish shot him a concerned look and stepped in. “Callum Steward is a good man. He may have declared war on our clan because o’ his suspicions, but I highly doubt he will involve innocent people. His attacks are likely tae focus on the laird himself’ and the castle. Nae the surrounding farms.”

Cinead was about to open his mouth again, but Hamish cut him off. “The laird and Rory have offered ye a fair compromise, lad, ye can either take or leave it,” he glared. “Either way, I suggest ye hold yer tongue, whichever ye choose.”

Boyd nodded when Cinead eventually relented, chugging his ale before banging the iron mug back on the table. “I guess more scouts will dae,” Cinead relented whilst clenching his jaw and slumping back in his chair.

“Then we will go ahead with the battle of Killiecrankie and Rory will ensure that more scouts are assigned tae patrol. There is naething more we can dae until after the battle,” Boyd stood and pushed back his chair with his legs. Standing, he towered above all the other men seated at the table. “I think everyone would like tae get back tae their beds now. I bid ye all a rest-filled night gentlemen. I will be leaving first thing in the morning with the men.”

Men swigged the last of their ales and meandered out of the room back to their bedchambers. Hamish lingered and waited for the right moment. “There is just one more thing we need tae discuss,” he said, halting Boyd in his tracks.

Boyd turned around with a frown. This cannae be good…

“The council and I have been speaking,” he waited for Boyd to approach the table again before continuing. “It is time for ye tae choose another wife, Boyd. Respectfully, me Laird, it has been just over a year since…”

“I ken what happened a little over a year ago, Hamish… There is nae need tae remind me,” Boyd said coolly. “As if I could ever forget.” So this is why he stopped Cinead from talking about Cora and her family. He’d wanted to assuage Boyd and address the matter.

“The council realizes that this is a difficult topic, and we have allowed enough time tae pass for yer grief. We miss yer father too and realize how unfortunate yer bride’s fate was. Yet, the succession needs tae be secured. There are nae other men in the family that can take over if anything were tae happen tae ye. We need an heir.”

“What dae yae suggest, Hamish? Should I just marry the next lass I see at a tavern?” Boyd asked sarcastically, knowing very well that plan wasn’t an option.

“I have suggested that we arrange a ball for all o’ the surrounding lairds and their daughters. They can all stay at the castle as guests and ye can have yer pick o’ any o’ the lasses ye choose. The plans are merely awaiting yer approval, my Laird.”

“At least I will have a choice this time,” he said quietly under his breath.

Hamish ignored him and carried on. “This will also create an opportunity tae ease some of the bad feelings with the other lairds and gain more allies. And if all goes well, perhaps Callum will see that what happened tae his niece and family had naething tae dae with us. As tragic as it was, the consequences need tae be dealt with.”

“Or show him that we dae nae care about his lost family as we carry on with our lives as if naething happened,” Boyd retorted and cocked his head to the side.

“That shall be a gamble we are willing tae take. Callum is at war with us whether ye take another wife or nae. Ye may as well dae it for the good o’ the other clans, if nae for Callum’s sake and the succession o’ yer own line. We cannae let yer blood die with ye, Boyd.”

Boyd looked at the faces of the few men left gathered around the table, who were clearly waiting to see what he would say. The respect of his council depended solely on his response at that moment. Would he choose his own grief over a possible solution for the well-being of his clan?

O’ course, nae.

“Send out the letters and arrange the ball for after the battle o’ Killiecrankie.”

Boyd could hear the clicking of a cane echoing off the solid stones as he retreated down the hall. He had given his approval and didn’t feel like facing another lecture from Hamish. Boyd grew tired of the old man's lectures after a while, as much as he loved him as if he was a member of the family. He had been his father's advisor and was still respected.

“Wait, my Laird,” Hamish called after him, giving Boyd no other chance but to stop and wait.

The old man hobbled toward him in the flickering light of the torches against the walls. “I want a word with ye ‘afore ye go tae bed. I ken that ye must be tired, but I need tae say something.”

“Speak yer mind, Hamish,” Boyd said impatiently and folded his burly arms across his chest.