Chapter 8
The room was dark when Dunn opened his eyes. Even as he blinked, trying to adjust to what little light the embers of the fire provided, he could make out nothing but shadows and shapes—and Elayne next to him, closer than when they had fallen asleep.
It kept happening those days, waking up with her in his arms, but Dunn didn’t want to question it. It was only natural for two people sharing a bed to gravitate towards each other, to end up in each other’s space, and if his sleep-addled brain guided him to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then no one had to know.
Slowly, so as not to wake her, Dunn slid out of the bed. Since Elayne was so insistent that they wear clothes to bed, all he had to do was pull on his boots and grab his knife before he left the room quietly and snuck through the corridors of the castle in search of Laird Macgillivray’s study. It was the perfect time to seek information, as he had come to learn that the laird never stayed in his study past dinner, preferring to retire to his chambers instead.
It was only the guards Dunn had to worry about, but as he walked, he only encountered one pair of them. He was quick to duck into an alcove just as they turned around the corner, narrowly missing them, and only continued his march when the footsteps had receded far down the hallway.
He found the laird’s study easily, retracing the steps he had taken the last time he had been there. Laird Macgillivray had only invited him to his study once, but it had been enough for Dunn to remember the way. He had made sure to pay attention.
When he tried the doorknob, he expected to find the door locked, but it gave under his hand. Perhaps Laird Macgillivray wasn’t very concerned with others looking through his plans and his papers, so confident was he in the loyalty of his men. Stepping inside, Dunn found the room completely dark, so he grabbed two candles from the desk, lighting them with the torch that hung in the hallway outside. Then, he placed them gingerly on the desk and began his task.
Laird Macgillivray’s desk was a mess of papers, pages strewn all over its surface. It seemed as though it had been left like that, forgotten entirely after a meeting, but Dunn was still careful to disturb the papers as little as possible. For all he knew, Laird Macgillivray knew precisely where he had left everything and any disruption to the piles would arouse his suspicion.
Thumbing through the papers, Dunn soon realized the rumors were true. There were war plans, strategies, and resource reports, all of them proving to him that Laird Macgillivray was indeed preparing to go to war. He had neither the time nor the light to read carefully, but all the signs were there.
Paper… I need paper.
He had to copy at least the most important details. Perhaps he would have the chance to return another night and finish his work, but for now, he had to write down the laird’s most important plans and the names of the clans who would be involved in this war. If Dunn and his clan could get to them first, if they could talk some sense into them or form an alliance, then perhaps they could avoid this.
Just as he opened the drawer to look for a spare piece of paper, though, the door opened, and a pair of eyes looked at him in the dark.
Dunn’s hand reached for his blade on instinct, but an altercation would be hardly an ideal solution. Even if no one heard them, even if he managed to kill the other, then he would have no place to get rid of the body without anyone noticing. Still, what other choice did he have?
He had been caught.
Stepping inside the room, the man revealed himself to be none other than Blaine. Dunn cursed quietly under his breath. Not only was Blaine a formidable opponent, one who would surely put up a difficult fight, but Dunn had also come to like the man. He wouldn’t call him friendly, not exactly, but at least he wasn’t hostile to him like the two lairds.
“It’s late tae be out o’ yer chambers,” said Blaine casually, as if he hadn’t just caught Dunn looking through his laird’s plans. “What are ye doin’ here, Dunn?”
Dunn had three options. One of them was to lie, but what could he possibly say that would explain all this? There was no lie plausible enough to save him. Another option would be to fight, though he wanted to avoid that more than anything. It was bound to draw more attention to him and if he was going to die, he would rather die by a blade than a rope. The last option was the only option he truly had.
He had to tell Blaine the truth and hope he would understand.
“I am here because Laird Macgillivray is plannin’ a war,” he said calmly, moving his hand away from the hilt of the knife he carried around his waist. “It’s all right here, in these papers. I’m nae tryin’ tae hurt the clan, Blaine, I promise ye. I’m only tryin’ tae prevent the war.”
Blaine closed the door slowly behind him and stepped farther into the room, his gaze never leaving Dunn. In the dark, he looked like a predator, ready to attack.
“An’ why should I believe ye?” he asked. “It’s all been a lie, has it nae? All o’ this… ye used Elayne tae get tae the laird.”
Dunn couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “Actually, it was Elayne who used me first.”
Blaine frowned, uncomprehending. “What dae ye mean? How did she use ye?”
“She didnae wish tae marry Laird McCoy,” Dunn said. “An’ so she proposed I pretend tae be married tae her and offered me access tae her faither’s plans an’ the castle.”
Those eyes hardened as Blaine watched Dunn, but his voice was level, quiet when he spoke. “Elayne would never betray her faither like that. She would never betray the clan.”
“Is it truly a betrayal tae prevent a war?” Dunn asked. “She is clever. She understands a war would destroy the clan. Yer nae ready fer it an’ if ye support it, then ye’re a fool.”
Blaine fell silent. Dunn must have struck a chord, he thought, and suddenly he realized that perhaps there was a way out that didn’t involve death. Surely, Blaine knew the state of the clan better than Dunn or Elayne, and if the mention of war made him pause, then perhaps he didn’t agree with it, either.
“I kent there was somethin’ strange about all this the moment I saw ye,” said Blaine, changing the subject with little subtlety. “Elayne would have never wedded a man without her father’s consent. Even after everythin’ he’s done tae her, she is still obedient tae him. Bringin’ ye here, what was she thinkin’?”
“She was thinkin’ that she doesnae want her people tae die. And she doesn’t want to be married to a cruel man that she hates,” said Dunn.
He couldn’t understand why Elayne still obeyed her father, why she did as she was told. On the one hand, she probably did not have much choice, but on the other, it led her to a life of pain and regret, and Dunn couldn’t bear to think of all the grief she would have to endure if she ended up marrying Laird McCoy.
Why daes she nae fight it?
In a way, she had, he supposed. She had brought him there, involving him in a clever plan. Perhaps it was time to forgive her for lying about the exact circumstances after all.
For a few moments, the two of them simply stared at each other in silence. Dunn’s hand began to drift towards his blade again, but Blaine was making no move to attack.
“So, there will be a war, ye say?” Blaine asked eventually, breaking the silence.
“The Captain doesnae ken about the war?” Dunn asked, frowning in confusion. “Surely, the laird must have told ye o’ his plans. Ye will need tae prepare the troops.”
“He kent I would disagree,” Blaine said. “I suppose he was waitin’ tae tell me at the last minute, but o’ course, there were rumors.”
“Rumors that have reached farther than ye may think,” said Dunn.
There was hope now. If Blaine disagreed with the laird’s plans, if he didn’t want this war, then perhaps there was a way to sway him, to keep him quiet about this meeting.
“How far?”
“Far enough.”
Blaine cursed under his breath, the sound barely reaching Dunn’s ears. Dunn observed him carefully in the half-light: the tight set of his shoulders, the way he seemed at war with himself. This was his chance, he thought. It was risky, but it had to be done.
“I need copies of these papers,” Dunn said.
His words instantly caught Blaine’s attention. The man barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Ye expect me tae provide them?”
“I expect ye tae allow me.”
Blaine didn’t speak. At first, Dunn thought he had made a mistake, believing that he could get Blaine on his side, but then the man nodded slowly, as if he was trying to convince himself this was the right course of action.
“Ye’re a fool,” Blaine said. “An’ so is Elayne. This carries too much risk.”
“I dinnae fear risk,” Dunn said. “An’ it seems that Elayne doesnae either, nae matter what ye may think o’ her.”
His words were barbed, unnecessarily so. He shouldn’t be antagonizing the very man who could destroy him with a single word to Laird Macgillivray, but Dunn couldn’t help it. He wasn’t going to have him call Elayne a fool.
“I ken her better than ye dae,” Blaine said.
“Is that so?” asked Dunn, eyes narrowing. “How well?”
It was then that Blaine faltered for a moment, but it was long enough for Dunn to notice. There was something about him, a hesitation that Dunn couldn’t understand.
Are they closer than I thought?
Are they too close?
“I ken what Isobel has told me,” Blaine said, and the soft pink tint that spread over his face was perhaps the biggest surprise of the night for Dunn. It was as though the mere name was enough to embarrass him, having him look like an overgrown boy talking about his first love.
“Ach, I see,” said Dunn, his previous concerns disappearing. It wasn’t Elayne Blaine wanted—it was Isobel. “It makes sense now.”
“What does?” Blaine all but growled.
“How ye look at her.”
In the dim light, Blaine’s cheeks burned, but Dunn took mercy on him. Instead of teasing him, he asked, “How come ye havenae told her?”
Blaine hesitated. For a moment, Dunn thought he wouldn’t answer the question. Perhaps Blaine felt that he didn’t owe him any explanation—which was true enough. But Dunn was curious, and besides, it was a good bonding experience.
It was a way to get Blaine on his side.
“I dinnae wish tae risk our friendship,” Blaine said. “If she’s nae interested.”
“Perhaps ye should take more risks,” said Dunn.
They both knew he wasn’t only talking about Isobel. If Blaine was truly against this war, if he wanted what was best for the clan, then it was time for him to take a risk to do the right thing. Dunn didn’t know the man well enough to outright ask for his help, but if it was willingly given, then he would take it.
“An’ ye an’ Elayne?” Blaine asked, changing the subject in a way Dunn couldn’t have predicted. It almost felt like an attack, though that was perhaps more due to his own desire to keep his growing feelings for Elayne a secret rather than Blaine’s intentions. “I can tell somethin’ has changed between the two o’ ye since ye first came here.”
Dunn hadn’t really noticed, but he supposed it was true enough. They had grown fond of each other and their conversations were often deep, even sweet. Living in the same castle—in the same room, even—forced them to spend plenty of time together, and Dunn felt as though he knew her better than he knew most people.
Though he was excellent at making friends and charming women, he couldn’t remember the last time he had formed such a connection with someone. His relationships were often shallow, superficial. This, though, was different.
“I dinnae think Elayne would be very pleased if she kent,” he said with a soft laugh, trying not to sound disappointed. “It is what it is.”
Blaine watched him in silence, looking right through the fa?ade Dunn had tried to build. He supposed the two of them were in the same position, after all. It was easy to understand each other.
When Blaine spoke, it surprised Dunn. “I will help ye. I dinnae wish fer a war. The troops have been decimated. We are tryin’ tae rebuild, but it will take time. Time we dinnae have, if what ye say is true.”
“It is true,” Dunn assured him. “It’s all right here, in the papers. Ye can see fer yerself.”
“I will,” Blaine said firmly. It was a promise as much as it was a threat, Dunn knew. If Blaine found that he was lying about any of this, he would make sure to have his head.
But Dunn had no intention to lie. He had already told Blaine more than he had told anyone else, and he was confident the man would help him. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to follow his leader blindly, without any hesitation, any suspicion, nor did he seem like the same kind of man as Laird Macgillivray: thirsty for power and riches, willing to do anything to obtain them, regardless of the consequences.
With that, Blaine joined Dunn by the desk and the two of them went through the papers together, writing down everything they could. Dunn couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. He had Blaine’s help now and he would make sure to get the most out of it.