Chapter 30 #2
Isla clapped her hands. “That’s settled, then. And of course I’ll be here tae help ye. We’ll roast two boars and a stag and open the best casks of ale and liberate some of that French wine ye’ve been hiding in the cellar, Ewan. And mayhap the pipers will play us something merrier than last time.”
Ewan laughed. “Aye, dae that. Their last tune near sent the dogs howling.”
They shared an easy moment of camaraderie, the kind that made the courtyard feel like the heart of something strong and enduring.
Sadly, that peace was short-lived.
Duncan appeared from the gatehouse, his stride brisk, his expression dark. Mud spattered his boots and cloak, and his hand rested thoughtlessly on the hilt of his sword. He spotted Ewan and crossed the yard with grim purpose.
“Milaird,” he said curtly. “We’ve a problem.”
Ewan’s tone shifted at once. “What is it?”
“The men guarding the boat landing – there were three of them – havenae returned from last night’s watch. We found their torches near the shore, burnt out. There was nay sign of struggle, nay blood. But they’re gone wi’ nay trace.”
A cold prickle creep up Tyra’s spine. “Gone? Could they have wandered elsewhere? Taken tae the mainland? The village?”
Duncan shook his head. “Nae all three. They were seasoned men, good warriors and the night was clear. Someone has taken them. Or worse – thrown them tae the fishes.”
Ewan’s jaw tightened. “Ye think it was Harris MacDonald.”
“Who else? It bears his mark,” Duncan said grimly. “He’s nae one tae leave peace long unbroken.”
Tyra’s breath caught. Though she had not seen Harris since that final confrontation between him and Edmund, the memory still haunted her. His hand raised, curling into a fist, the hate in his eyes. The very thought of him was enough to freeze her bones with fear.
Ewan’s gaze flicked to her, as if sensing her terror. “We’ll nae give him the chance tae strike again.”
He turned back to Duncan. “Send word tae the garrison. I want double patrols along the shore and the sea wall. Keep the signal fires ready.”
“Aye, milaird.” Duncan nodded before striding off, barking orders as he went. The sound of clanging armor and hurrying boots soon filled the yard.
Isla made a little mewing sound, her mouth turned down in dismay. “And the feast…?”
Ewan looked at Tyra, his expression softening a fraction. “We’ll nae cancel it. Let Harris see that we’re unafraid. But we’ll hold it within the keep. There’s tae be nay one tae go beyond the keep walls after dark.”
Tyra stood silent a moment, watching the sudden new activity. “Duncan’s right, isn’t he? Harris won’t rest.”
“Nay,” Ewan admitted. “Men like him never dae. But he’ll find us ready.”
She looked up at him, her hand brushing his arm. “I dinnae doubt that. Nae with ye leading them.”
He caught her hand, squeezing gently. “Ye’ve faith in me.”
“I always dae.”
Their eyes met – and in that look was something steady and fierce, a bond that fear could not shake.
That evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the loch in gold and crimson, Tyra stood at the parapet in the tower overlooking the water. The wind tugged at her hair and cloak, and she could hear the faint shouts of men below, the creak of the portcullis being raised.
Ewan joined her, placing his hands at her shoulders, the weight of command still in his stance, though his voice when he spoke, was soft.
“Dinnae fash little one. We’ve set the new watches.
The men from Edmund’s company will remain at the lower barracks.
They’re good fighters, every last one of them. ”
Tyra nodded. “Edmund thought tae leave them here fer that reason. He feared Harris might strike again.”
Ewan’s gaze followed the dark line of the shore, probing the darkness. “Then he judged well.”
They stood together in silence for a time, the three lochs stretching before them, the mist gathering again over the water.
Finally, Tyra said quietly, “Dae ye ever tire of it? The burden of being ferever vigilant?”
Ewan’s mouth twitched in a weary smile. “Aye. But a laird daesnae have the luxury of weariness. The clan looks tae me — and now tae ye.”
“Tae me?” she said, startled.
He turned toward her fully. “Aye. Ye’re their lady now. They’ll take their cue from ye – yer calm, yer courage. Yer smiles will give them heart.”
Her eyes softened. “Then I’ll try tae smile, even when I’m afraid.”
He reached for her hand, pressing it to his heart. “Ye’ve more strength than ye ken, Tyra. Ye’ve already faced worse and yet ye stand tall.”
For a moment, all she could hear was the steady beat beneath her palm. The fear receded, replaced by warmth, by belonging, by strength and the courage to endure. “Then we’ll face whatever comes. Taegether.”
“Aye,” he said, and his voice held the quiet conviction of a vow. “Taegether.”
The loch shimmered below them, the light fading to silver as the first stars kindled above the peaks.
Somewhere far out on the water, a lone gull cried – and although the threat of MacDonald’s presence lingered somewhere out there, in the distance, within the stone walls of Eilean Donan, strength and love bound them like armor and shield.