Page 80 of Highlander’s Quest of Desire

Chapter Thirty-One

“Iwant to ken how ye managed to turn General Forester’s loyalties away from Leo,” Bruce said. They were sitting in the war room at Dunnottar. The large circular table was carved with the map of Grant lands. Ironically enough it was inspired by the Arthurian tales of legend and his round table.

“It was a simple matter,” Laird Labert said, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I reminded the General that his term was coming to an end the following year, and whatever lucrative compensation Leo had offered would be little to the disgrace of his entire campaign when the lairds learned of the ploy with the Honors and united against him in an uprising. The man is clever, even though he is English. He saw reason and withdrew his support. I had nae expected it to be so public though.”

Bruce laughed then fidgeted in his chair. The feeling was slowly returning to his left arm, and pins and needles raced up and down the limb from time to time throughout the day. Master Barton had set the shoulder right, and bandaged it so it could nae be moved, but every time Bruce did, the pins and needles drove him to distraction.

“Speaking of the Honors,” Domnhall said. “Did ye manage to retrieve them?”

“Aye.” Bruce stood up and walked to an ornately carved armoire. He pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked it. From within its depths, he pulled out the Honors. Domnhall gasped, and Laird Labert simply stared, as if he had turned to wax.

Gingerly, Bruce placed the crown, scepter, and sword on the table. They shone brighter than they had the night he had discovered them. Bruce had had them polished, and every facet of the stones reflected light that rainbows reflected off the surface in some places.

Hands trembling, Laird Labert touched the scepter, while Domnhall took hold of the crown. Bruce couldn’t help but smile. Both were men of strategy and covert wars so they had chosen the more subtle emblems of power; they had no use for the sword.

“Have ye decided what to do with them?” Domnhall asked.

“That is one of the things I wanted to discuss with ye. Laird Labert has already given me his two cents about the Honors and where they belong in our current times. I wanted to hear yer opinion as well before I made my decision.”

Domnhall considered, and Bruce could tell by the look on his face that he was calculating every possibility and weighing each word. He was a careful man, and though it had annoyed him previously, he could now see the merits of thinking before leaping ahead blindly on faith.

“I think we should place them back where ye found them.”

Laird Labert smiled. “I said the same thing. It is nae up for three clans to decide that Scotland is ready for war.”

Especially nae when two of those clans do nae like to fight, Bruce thought but didn’t say out loud.

“Aye,” Domnhall nodded. “Because there will be war. There always is. The Honors do legitimize our stake on our lands, but who’s to say they are nae stolen again? It was easy enough for Leo to do it.”

“I was outnumbered,” Bruce interrupted.

“We always are,” Laird Labert said. “The English outnumber us; that is why they find it so easy to conquer us. The Honors will be needed some day, and they will unite Scotland. I ken it in my bones they will. Sadly, that time is nae now. It does nae end with us, Bruce.”

Bruce nodded and conceded the point. “However, I do nae think we should place them back where we found them. The place was hard to find for us, but now it is ruined. The stone slab that covered the entrance had been broken, and I’m sure Liam’s already climbed down to the secret passage under the River Carron. It would nae be safe there.”

“Who’s Liam?” Domnhall asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. Bruce saw nothing of Elspeth in the man. It was hard to believe they were siblings.

“He owns the farmland the O’on is built on. Ye’ll be meeting him in a few days. Lovely lad.”

“Focus on the task at hand,” Laird Labert said, clapping his hands as if he were handling squabbling children at lessons. “If we cannae put the Honors back where Bruce found them, then where should they go?”

“We could inter them at the kirk in Blair Atholl,” Domnhall suggested. “It will be surrounded by thick walls, and I will appoint a special unit of highly trained fighters to guard it.”

“Alerting everyone to the fact that something very special is buried right here, please try, and steal it.” Laird Labert rolled his eyes. “In my opinion, Balquhidder is safest. Bruce here kens just how keenly we take our security. That passage, lad? That’s just one of many. The Honors will find a secure home with us.”

“I cannae see why they cannae stay on in Dunnottar.” Bruce spread his hands. “Just the risk of transporting them is too high. Dunnottar is also very secure. There are nae secret passages, but we are situated on top of a hill with the sea behind us. It’s ideal.”

“If ye want to steal the Honors and make a quick escape to France!” Domnhall chuckled, the glint in his eyes steely. “The seas is a perfect escape route.”

“I agree,” Laird Labert said. “Balquhidder is more inland and therefore safer. My spies are scattered to three counties over so culprits cannae escape very far. So, it’s decided? Balquhidder is going to keep the Honors.”

“Wait just one minute,” Bruce said, standing up again. “Ye two were lounging in yer castles, nae bothered by the Honors while I went out, risking my neck to search for them. I looked for the map, I traveled half way across Scotland and dug them up. By rights, he who discovered them should have the honor of protecting them.”

“Ah, but ye did, Grant, and they were stolen from ye within…” Laird Labert scrunched up his face, thinking hard. “Three hours?”

“And ye speak as if ye were all alone,” Domnhall scoffed. “My sister was with ye all the way. She met ye toe for toe, and sacrificed just as much, if nae more. So, by rights, she should have the honor, eh?” He looked really smug as if he had scored a great point.

“She will,” Bruce said. “Ye can be certain of that.”