CHAPTER 34
Smoke hung over the town and burned Finn’s throat as he rode with the priest through the smoldering remains of the burned houses. Sinclair warriors surrounded the castle and the burned-out cathedral, which stood a few yards apart in the center of the town.
“A few of the Murrays are caught up there,” the priest reminded him, pointing at the cathedral’s tower, which was all that remained of the church.
As he came to a halt in front of the mass of armed warriors in front of the castle, Finn looked up and saw Lachlan among the Murrays peering down from the parapet.
“If this doesn’t go well, take Ceò to my wife,” Finn told the priest before he dismounted. Then he patted Ceò’s shoulder and walked toward the mass of armed warriors.
John, Master of Caithness, expected him, so the Sinclairs parted to let Finn through without a word.
John stood waiting, his armor and face smudged with soot, in a small clearing at the center of his men.
Behind him, two pews that must have been dragged out of the ruined cathedral were arranged face to face in the open air.
When John gestured toward one of the pews, Finn sat and stretched out his legs.
Finn caught sight of the MacKay chieftain, Barbara’s lover and close ally of the Sinclairs, standing nearby with a group of his warriors.
He was not surprised that MacKay had joined in the attack, but he was relieved when John did not invite MacKay to join them.
At John’s signal, the men widened the circle around the pews so that their conversation could be private. Finn waited to speak until they stepped back.
“’Tis one thing to raid some cattle and burn a few fields, but destroying the cathedral and threatening the bishop’s home?” Finn folded his arms and shook his head. “You’ll burn in hell for this, which means ye won’t escape your father even in death, because we both know that’s where he’ll be.”
“You’re just angry that I succeeded in trapping your friends, the Murrays,” John said.
“Your grandmother will be disappointed when she hears what you’ve done,” Finn said. “Lady Mary still believes there’s some good in ye.”
“She died a fortnight ago,” John said in a flat tone.
Finn was silent for a long moment as a wave of sadness passed through him. He’d always been fond of Mary, and now he knew the role she’d played in saving him when he was still a babe. And with her death, he’d lost an ally in appealing to John’s better instincts.
“Come, John, ye don’t want the blood of good men on your hands,” Finn said. “You’re not like your father.”
“I am my father’s son,” John said. “Now let’s get on with it.”
“All right,” Finn said. “Tell me what ye need to let these men go.”
John bluffed and threatened, as expected, but they soon came to an agreement that would save the skins of the Murrays.
In exchange for allowing the trapped men to leave Dornoch unharmed, the Murrays would agree not to challenge George Sinclair’s control of Sutherland during Alex’s minority.
As was customary, John required three hostages to secure the promise.
“You’ll guarantee the hostages safety?” Finn asked, though this was usual as well.
“Of course,” John said, sounding offended. “I swear it.”
Finn shouted the terms up to Lachlan and the other Murrays on the castle wall. It did not take long for them to discuss it among themselves.
“We accept the terms,” Lachlan shouted down. “We’ll draw lots for the hostages and send them out first.”
“Since that’s settled, I’ll be off,” Finn said, and got up.
“I have one more term ye must agree to,” John said, “or I’ll slaughter them all.”.
Damn, damn, damn. Finn knew what it was without John telling him.
“Must ye do this, John?” he asked without much hope.
“Ye should have sent someone else to give the message to Alex,” John said. “But ye had to be the one to come into Dunrobin disguised as a peddler and humiliate my father.”
“What gave me away?” Finn asked.
“The dog,” John said with a dry laugh. “Barbara saw ye take that one-eyed mongrel. After Alex escaped, she put two and two together.”
It would be Barbara. At least Alex was safe at Huntly castle and free of her and the rest of the Sinclairs.
“Do ye believe this will finally win your father’s approval?” Finn taunted him. “That you’ll replace your brother William as his favorite?”
“My father will be grateful that I’ve caught the Murrays and forced them to surrender and agree to my terms.”
“You’re the better son, the best of his children, but you’ll never change your father’s mind,” Finn said. “I was always the unfavored son, too, so I know.”
“What I know is that I’m the son who’s going to give my father what he wants,” John said. “And what he wants is you.”
###
When they reached Girnigoe, the three hostages were allowed to ride into the castle unbound. Finn, however, was forced to walk with a rope around his neck, removing any doubt that he was a prisoner, rather than a hostage.
He sensed something was wrong the moment they crossed the first gate of Girnigoe and the drawbridge was raised behind them with unnecessary speed.
MacKay sensed it too, for he turned his horse and galloped over the half-raised drawbridge, sailing over the gap in the rock and landing on the other side.
“Run!” Finn shouted to the Murray hostages.
He pulled a dirk from the belt of the Sinclair warrior who held him and sliced the rope that tied them together.
It was a hopeless attempt, of course, as he was on foot and too far from the drawbridge.
He heard the drawbridge close with a thump as he was tackled to the ground by several of the Sinclair men.
This time, Finn’s hands were bound, and John held the rope around his neck. Without hesitation, John rode through the next gate and into the inner courtyard where his father was waiting.
“Chain these prisoners together, hand and foot, and line them up,” George ordered.
Finn struggled against the men who clamped irons around his ankles and wrists.
“The Murrays are hostages, not prisoners, Father,” John said.
George turned on his son with such rage in his eyes that Finn had to give John credit for not stepping back as George walked up to him until they were nose to nose.
“I didn’t agree to accept hostages,” George said.
“You sent me to deal with the Murrays,” John said. “I agreed to—”
“You let the Murrays go!” George said. “I did not tell ye to spare them.”
“Ye gave me the task, and I did it,” John said. “I did it well.”
George extended his arm to the side and snapped his fingers. “My sword!”
One of his guards brought him his claymore. With barely a pause, George’s powerful torso twisted as he swung it and cut the first hostage’s head clean off his shoulders.
Jesu! Even George’s guards looked shocked that their chieftain would violate Highland custom by brutally executing a hostage.
“Father, ye can’t do this!” John shouted as George approached the next hostage in line. “I gave my oath that these hostages would not be harmed.”
“I am chieftain of the Sinclairs, not you!” George roared.
“But I—”
Before the words were out of John’s mouth, a second bloody head rolled across the ground.
“I know you’re plotting against me,” George said, turning back to John. “You’re eyeing my chair. What made you think you’re man enough to push me aside and take my place?”
“Nay!” John said. “I’ve always been loyal.”
“The old witch foretold that my son would rebel against me, and now I see it’s true,” George said. Ye made an alliance with MacKay behind my back, and the two of ye let my enemies go.”
George stood before Finn and the last Murray hostage, his sword dripping with blood. This looked like the end. At least it would be quick. Finn closed his eyes, said a prayer, and drew up an image in his mind of Margaret holding Ella. His last thought would be of them.
He heard the whoosh of a sword and the third head roll.
###
The dungeon was pitch black, but Finn’s eyes gradually adjusted until he could make out the outline of his fellow prisoner chained against the opposite wall.
“I should have stayed home with my bride,” Finn said. “You’re the last person I want to spend my final hours with.”
“Don’t worry. My father won’t keep me here that long,” John said. “You’ll die alone.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Finn said.
“If my father wanted to kill me,” John said, “he would have done it right off, like he did with the Murray hostages.”
Perhaps even George Sinclair could not bring himself to murder his own son. But that did not explain why Finn was still alive. George either had some use for him or a special torture in mind. He strained against his chains, but they were bolted tight to the wall.
After a few hours, two guards brought food and ale.
“What about me?” Finn asked when they only gave it to John.
“You’re to have none, ye Gordon devil,” one of the guards said.
“I fought with your last chieftain!” Finn shouted after the guards as they climbed back up the stairs.
Each time the guards brought more, Finn waited for John to offer him some. After two days, Finn’s tongue was thick, and his thirst finally overcame his pride.
“Will ye save a bit of that ale for me?” Finn asked. “If ye scoot the cup as far as ye can with your foot, I think I can reach it.”
“’Tis bound to spill,” John said. “And it would only delay the inevitable.”
“Your prospects don’t look so good either,” Finn said.
He was beginning to think George had no purpose for keeping him alive except to give him a slow death in this dungeon. He could withstand hunger, but he was becoming delirious from thirst.
Margaret’s image was so real to him. Imagining her was better than not seeing her at all. And he had so much to tell her. His tongue was so thick he could not speak, but she understood him without him having to say the words. She was in his head and in his heart.