Chapter Two
When William arrived at the main hall, his father, Bernard, his brother Ailbert, and his uncle Cormag were already present, seated in their chairs.
The seat of Brian MacDougal, Cormag’s tanist and second in command, was devastatingly empty.
His noble death the night before made for a somber air in the room, as evidenced most by his son Robb, his face marked with sallow skin, tight lips, and dark moons under his eyes.
A day’s growth of blond beard made him look both sorrowful and ferocious at the same time.
William did not envy the men who had killed Robb’s father. The son would harbor a vendetta against the Morays for the rest of his days.
Several other men gathered in the hall and lower tables. William noted many were their Norse kin, out of respect to Brian, who had been Norse on his mother’s side, and as thanks to the MacDougals, who welcomed them into their clan.
Most of the men bore few arms since this was not a war meeting, but William’s sword was yet sheathed on his belt, and he grasped the leather-bound hilt as he strode in, using the familiar grip to ground himself.
Amid the mourning, also an air of elation bloomed at the death of the mad king and the loss of power of the Morays and other clans who had leeched onto the king. King Donald had tried to drive a wedge between the clans of Scotland to wrest control of Alba from them and place himself as monarch.
It had been a grave mistake. As his uncle Cormag oft said, Alba is the clans, united under one king. When Donald attempted to create a schism in the Highlands, he drew the ire of the clans.
When recent Norse settlers arrived, Donald, who had spent most of his monarchy fighting off Viking invaders, had turned on them.
The united clans of Grant, MacIntosh, Gordon, and MacDougal had used that opportunity to invade the Dunnottar stronghold where the king hid himself, slay the king, and thus bring unity back to Alba.
William was still a bit surprised their plan to dispose of the mad king had all worked.
They had relied on Ailith and her peculiar knowledge about Dunnottar keep, which made the invasion successful.
But that success had nearly cost them everything when Ailith was set upon as she guarded her puddock stools.
Toadstools! What had she been thinking?
But her brother Seocan, his man Daniel, and William had in and dispatched most of them.
Dispatching the final attacking Moray, however, had been William’s gift to Ailith. With her odd penchant for fighting, she’d brought the man low before William slayed him.
All in all, both he and Ailith walked away unscathed. For that, William was grateful and believed the night to be a success. She must be touched by the fae for her wild plan to have worked.
In the aftermath, much was to be done, and his kin were here to discuss the next steps.
William slid onto the bench next to his brother Ailbert, who clasped his forearm as he sat.
“I did no’ expect to see ye at all this morn, given that your lass spent the night in your bed,” Ailbert teased in a whisper as he leaned back toward William.
William shushed him with a tight smile and pointed at their uncle. “Ye should pay better attention, lad. What would Uncle say?”
Ailbert flapped a hand dismissively at William, a wry smile on his lips. William understood the tightness. With so much to celebrate, death clung to the heels of that joy.
Their uncle Cormag, his face as weary-looking as Robb’s, was speaking. “Causantín will be crowned tonight at Edinburgh, according to our prior conversations.”
Low chatter echoed in the hall at this.
“Thus, it is done.” Cormag lifted his fist into the air. “Clans of Alba and MacDougal kin, my brothers in arms, Mad King Donald is dead!”
Men in attendance lifted their cups and flagons aloft, cheering again, obviously pleased by this news, that their efforts and the death of their fellow kinsmen had not been in vain.
“With thanks to William.” Here he nodded his silvery blond head at his nephew and flicked his frosty blue eyes to William, who sat straightened on the bench.
“Thanks to William and the MacIntoshes, we have the king’s ruby signet ring taken from his mangled body after he fell to death on the rocks below Dunnottar.
James Grant’s man took the ring to Edinburgh yester eve, and with evidence confirming our victory over the vile king. ”
More cheering filled the hall. Cormag banged his empty flagon on the table.
“But this news does not come without heartache. Chieftain Lucas MacIntosh, a mighty warrior of allies, died nobly in battle. As did our own Brian MacDougal.”
At this, the hall fell silent. Several men crossed themselves while others lifted their faces to the ceiling as if looking for Brian in the heavens. Every man in the hall had his chest clench with sorrow.
William felt responsible. It had been his plan, contrived with Ailith’s assistance, and both he and Ailith had lived through the battle. Brian, that staunch warrior, his uncle, and Cormag’s closest man, had died in that endeavor, died for a cause to unite all of Alba.
He deserved a warrior’s funeral. He’d earned it.
William’s father, Bernard, rose from his seat. “Our men have brought the bodies of our fallen and injured to the keep. We will have their funerals tomorrow shortly after daybreak. Yet with that comes another concern.”
Cormag rubbed his hands over his face and looked askance at Bernard. “Are ye certain ye will no’ do it?” he asked his brother.
Bernard shook his head. “I told ye already what we must do.”
Cormag sighed wearily and looked out at the men in the room.
“With death must come life, and I would have Robb, Brian’s son, assume his role as my tanist.”
Nods and table-banging followed this announcement.
Robb, however, must not have been aware of this news, and his pale face did not hide his surprise. He shook his head in a stupor.
“Nay, I’ve no’ seen even twenty-five summers. I’m too young . . .” his voice trailed off.
Bernard nodded his head. “Aye, a wee bit young, but ye are bloodied as much as any man here.
Ye are clever, and ye are the son of Brian, half Viking in your own right.
‘Tis only just that ye fill the role. I have offered to help guide ye until ye are learned and experienced enough to take on the mantle of tanist in full.”
Robb’s mouth opened and closed as his continued surprise stole the words from his mouth.
Iain, another cousin, slapped Robb on the back. “Say aye, ye fool,” he said.
Robb stood. He tried to straighten his stooped shoulders. “I am honored by the faith ye have in me to take the place of my father. If ye are patient enough, then I would accept.”
More rousing cheers and the slamming of cups and fists onto the tables once more followed Robb’s acceptance.
Out of the bad, something good.
“What of the Morays?” a voice shouted out. More chatter and grumbles.
That was William’s question as well. If he had his way, the MacDougals would invade and exterminate the lot of them.
“Aye!” another voice shouted. “If they still try to align with Morays and Keiths, they will keep the clans divided. And probably try to kiss the arse of the new king and leech off him as well!”
Cormag waved his hand at the crowd and shook his head. “Nay, Causantín is a man of Alba who believes in the unity of the clans. Trying to form loyalties with him to divide the clans will no’ work in their favor.”
“’Twill no’ stop them from vying for power,” the first voice called out. Several heads nodded in agreement, including Cormag’s and Bernard’s.
“Aye, ‘tis a concern. And we will keep a fierce eye on them.” Cormac replied as his eye found William again.
Uh-oh, he thought. What now?
“We do have something to celebrate, something to revive us from the heavy nature of the past few days. My nephew, William, is finally having his wedding.”
The cheers and pounding on tables resumed, louder and uncontrollable, with many nearby men slapping William’s shoulder and head. He ducked and grinned, and his cheeks heated at the attention.
Bernard leaned over his table. “The Keiths are set to be invited to my son’s wedding.” He gestured to William. “Callum Keith, their chieftain, and his man Alistair are set to attend. Mayhap we can feel them out and see where their loyalties will be regarding the new king.”
William started at that bit of information.
He hadn’t known that any Keiths had been invited, though they shared a southern border.
The Keiths had been in bed with the Morays as of late, and William recalled the last time the Morays had been invited to any gatherings.
It had been at the Gordons, in celebration of his betrothal to Ailith, and had ended with him killing a Moray man who had accosted his bride-to-be.
Having the Keiths at his wedding did not please him at all.
Bernard must have noticed William’s disgust at that prospect. “Unifying the clans and seeing that the king moves toward that is our goal. We must continue to work for that.”
Ahh, leave it to his father to call out clan loyalty. William nodded in acquiescence to his father’s and Cormag’s desires.
“And with regards to William’s wedding,” Cormag added, “I ken ye have waited so long, lad, and ye said last night ye wish to wed no later than tomorrow at dawn, but ye must give us one more day.
‘Twill be before the ides of July, this I vow. But we need time to send notice to our allied clans and prepare your feast.”
William bowed his head. “As long as the priest is in attendance, ‘tis all I need. Two days, nay longer.”
“Aye.” Cormag smiled at his nephew. “When ye bring Ailith home, speak with Seocan. We will have the celebration here, gather all the clans. We will use your feast as a celebration of ye and your bride, but also a celebration of the union of clans. And a gathering to support the clans and the new king. My apologies lad, your wedding feast will yet have a political motive.”
William shrugged. “What in this day and age does no’? As long as I am wed to Ailith, ‘tis the only issue of importance to me.”
Ailbert smacked his arm. “Och, are ye but a whimpering lovesick man. Has the Gordon lass cast a spell on ye?”
“Dinna let the other clans hear ye speak like that,” Robb added to the teasing. “What will they think of the mighty William MacDougal?”
William rose to leave their ribbing. “So what if she has charmed me? They’ll think that this mighty warrior has quite the satisfied cock.”
As the men roared with laughter, many rose and departed – the news of the battle and what was to happen next decided. William followed them and veered to the hallway, leaving the main hall in search of his enchantress.
.