Chapter Twenty-Six #3
She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean,” she said.
“If ye allow us tae remain in peace, then I will speak tae my da about paying tribute. ’Twould be better tae have us there, paying ye for the privilege, than having us leave and the land remaining vacant.
Wouldna it be worth more tae ye tae have someone there tae pay ye for it? ”
It was actually quite logical. More than that, it was surprising that Drostan, in all of his years of hatred and scheming, had never thought of the same thing.
He looked over at Ternan, who was across the table, searching for a reaction in the man’s features.
Ternan simply shrugged as if it might actually be a possibility.
But no…
Drostan wasn’t apt to let a Keith tell him what to do, even if it was a good idea. Shaking his head, he rose from the bench.
“I’d rather have it vacant than tae have Keith living on it,” he said flatly. “Lindsay land is for our clan; ’tis not for gypsy clans with no claim tae it. And there’s the small matter of the silver mine. Did ye think I dinna know of it?”
Isadora lifted her shoulders in a weak gesture. “Everyone knows of it,” she said. “It doesna produce much, ye know. ’Tis a hard task tae mine for it.”
Drostan’s eyes narrowed. “It’s mine,” he hissed.
“Ye dunna seem tae understand, lass. Everything ye have is mine. The very air ye breathe is mine. I want it back and I shall have it, or I’ll set The Beast loose on Auchnacree and ye’ll lose more than yer lands.
Is yer father’s life worth a bit of dirt? ”
Isadora could see that there was no reasoning with him. Drostan was not even a man in control, but a man who was verging on a tantrum if he didn’t have his way in all things.
Realizing that, Isadora knew it was imperative that she return to Auchnacree as soon as possible.
Her father had to know that The Beast from the Ludus Caledonia was now serving Drostan.
He was more of a threat than any Lindsay warrior.
But she found it more than ironic that Drostan had the same idea as her father had—going to the Ludus Caledonia for the best warrior money could buy.
She had to make sure Drostan released her so she could return home.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t worry about the other Keith women at the moment, or even Nikolaus, because if she insisted that they be released with her and Drostan refused, she could very well find herself back in the vault along with them.
She had to think of the greater good of her village.
“Release me and I promise I’ll return tae tell my father everything,” she said. “But the people ye hold in the vault… Will ye promise me that they’ll remain unmolested until we can come tae an agreement?”
“I’ll hold them until Niall Keith and his clan leaves my lands.”
Isadora couldn’t help it; her eyes widened. “But why? They’re of no use tae ye.”
“They’ll be of great use if I send them back tae ye in pieces for every delay in leaving my lands.”
It was a horrific thing to say. “Ye canna do such a thing! They’ve done nothing tae hurt or offend ye!”
“They squat on my land like vermin,” he snarled. “Like vermin, they must be destroyed!”
He was starting to get a crazed look about him and Isadora forced herself to back away from the confrontation. She’d already pushed the man more than she should have. She wanted to make it home safely.
Please, God, let me leave here alive!
To be truthful, she had some doubt. As she struggled to come up with a reply that wouldn’t set him off again, a man in a dirty, long tunic appeared in the hall entry.
“M’laird,” he said to Drostan. “Ye have a man tae see ye. He says it is important.”
Drostan turned away from Isadora, greatly perturbed. “Tell him tae go away!”
The man didn’t move. “He wants tae know if ye have the Keith wench here.”
That had Drostan’s interest. “He does?” he said, greatly confused. “Who would ask such a thing?”
“Me,” came another voice behind the man in the dirty tunic. “I hear ye have Keith women here, m’laird. I want them.”
Isadora’s head shot up at the sound. She knew that voice.
God, she knew that voice!
Turning her head as much as she was able, she could see a figure moving in the shadows of the entry.
It didn’t take long before the figure moved into the light of the hall and when it did, it was all Isadora could do to keep from crying out.
Every fear she’d been trying to control had just been released, for the moment she saw that handsome, familiar face, she wanted to run into the safety of his arms and never let him go.
Her salvation had arrived.
*
“God’s Bones,” Drostan gasped at the sight in his entry. “Is it really ye, Cam?”
“It is.”
“I dunna believe it!”
“’Tis true.”
“Come forward so I can see ye more clearly!”
Cam stepped into the hall, completely in control of himself until he saw Isadora sitting there, bound up with rope.
Then his control slipped. He could only imagine that it hadn’t been easy for the Lindsay to bind her, knowing the fight she would have given them.
When he came closer and saw the bruise on her face, he nearly lost his composure altogether.
Balling his fists with rage, he charged the table where Isadora was sitting and in one sweeping movement, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder.
She gasped at the movement, as if it had caused her extreme pain, but Cam couldn’t think about that.
He was focused on Drostan and that’s where his focus needed to remain.
“I’d heard ye took Keith women,” he growled in a hazardous tone. “They belong tae me, Lindsay. ’Twas their menfolk who killed my grandfather and I will have my vengeance. I’ve come all the way from Edinburgh tae get it.”
Drostan held up his hands to Cam to prevent him from doing anything rash.
In fact, he was quite shocked by the appearance of the man and even more shocked at his actions.
Off to his left, Ternan was moving for Cam, planning on pulling Isadora away from him, but Drostan saw the movement and waved him off.
He didn’t want any brawls or bloodshed in his hall.
“Cam, stop!” Drostan commanded. “Dunna do anything foolish. Sit down and let us speak, as we used tae. We dinna know that ye’d returned, lad!”
Cam had hold of Isadora tightly. “I have indeed returned,” he said through clenched teeth. “Netherton is my home and ye knew I would return someday. But now I hear ye have Keith hostages and they belong tae me, Lindsay.”
Drostan had a very angry man on his hands, causing him to proceed carefully. “Where did he year such a thing?” he asked. “My men only just returned with them.”
“And men talk. Did ye not realize that? Half of the villages between Kirkburn and the sea know ye have hostages by now.”
That was probably true, so Drostan didn’t dispute him. But he made an effort to take charge of the situation.
“Put the woman down, Cam,” he said calmly. “Put her down and let us speak. I would like tae know when ye returned. Ternan was just at the Ludus Caledonia and saw no sign of ye. We thought ye’d been killed.”
“He’s not been killed, though I tried.”
The reply didn’t come from Cam. It was spoken in a thick Welsh accent. Near the hearth, The Beast stepped forward, his gaze on Cam as rigidly as a hunter sighting prey. When Cam looked at him and their eyes met, The Beast smiled humorlessly.
“The Lion of Caledonia,” he muttered. “We meet again.”
Drostan’s eyes widened. “Him?” he asked, incredulous as he turned to Cam. “He is The Lion of Caledonia?”
The Beast nodded, a slow gesture. “Aye,” he said. “He very nearly killed me.”
As Drostan wrestled with his shock at Cam’s apparent battle prowess, Cam’s shock was considerably worse. For the second time since entering the hall of Kirkburn, he was struggling with his composure.
The warrior known as The Beast was the last person Cam had expected to see. It would seem that his surprise for Drostan wasn’t the only surprise lingering in the hall of Kirkburn this day.
He was going to have to face whatever unhappy hell this was.
“It was a fair fight,” Cam said, wondering if he was going to have to defend himself again. “Whatever happened, I fought with honor.”
The Beast nodded, though it was with reluctance. “I’ve never known a man to fight the way you did. I should commend you.”
Cam wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. He found himself looking to Drostan. “How did he come here?”
“I paid for his fealty,” Drostan said, pleased with himself. “Clegg de Lave said that The Beast was the very best warrior he had, though we heard he had been beaten once by a man known as The Lion of Caledonia. But I never imagined that Lion was our very own Cam Netherton.”
“Why is he here?” Cam asked.
Drostan turned for the feasting table. “Sit and I will tell ye,” he said. “But ye’ll have tae put the woman down.”
“I’ll not put her down. Is she Keith?”
“She is.”
“Then she belongs tae me. I told ye I would seek vengeance. I meant it.”
Drostan pointed to the bench on the opposite side of the table. “Cam, sit,” he said encouragingly. “Let us share a meal and discuss this. I want tae know about the time ye spent at the Ludus Caledonia. I want tae hear everything.”
“There is nothing tae tell. Ye told me tae go there tae learn tae fight so I could avenge the death of my grandfather. I learned well and now I’ve returned.”
Cam felt Isadora gasp at his statement, but she didn’t say anything. She kept quiet. Drostan sat down, motioning for Ternan to sit as well because the man looked coiled, like a viper ready to strike. As Ternan reluctantly planted himself on the bench, Drostan fixed on Cam.
“And so ye have,” he said. “But the question is why? Ye’ve been tae the Ludus Caledonia and it takes years tae properly train a warrior. Ye’ve been gone less than a year, so why have ye returned?”