Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
“I must go down there,” Noah said, pulling away from her.
Before she could think about what she was doing, Keira found her fists clenched in his léine, the thick jacket he wore heavy against her nails as she pulled him close to her.
“Nay, dinnae go down there, please, they will kill ye.”
Noah put his hands gently over her wrists and disentangled her fingers from his clothes.
“I ken why ye ask me that, but this is me castle. I willnae let anyone take ye again, I promise ye that on me own soul. Nobody threatens a MacAllen without facing the consequences, and that priest has it comin’.”
As she let him go and tried to calm her breathing, his expression changed, and he looked down at her gravely. There was something else in his face, now. Not anger—it looked very much like fear.
“I ken ye are yer own person, lass, and ye do as ye please—heaven kens I have seen the evidence of that. But please—I am askin’ ye—dinnae go down there.”
Keira looked back at the torches, which seemed to have multiplied in numbers even in the few moments she had been turned away. Hundreds of figures were waiting to drag her away, and she was terrified that there would be bloodshed tonight that she could not prevent.
“Please, lass.” Noah’s eyes were dark and worried as she looked back at him.
“Alright,” she stated solemnly, but her heart told her that if Noah was in trouble she would do anything to protect him.
Noah left Keira with her sister and brother and headed down to the courtyard. He had faced many battles and foes in his time, but none had obliterated fear quite like Lucas MacPhee—all he felt was rage.
He would happily see the man burned on a pyre to repay what he had put Keira through. In Noah’s mind this was no man of God. He was evil through and through and nothing would convince him otherwise.
He walked out of the main gates and toward the ominous glow of the torches at the castle's boundary.
Callum was waiting for him, both of them dressed in their house colors and sporting several weapons. Noah himself had a knife concealed in each boot, and he knew Callum would have the same.
His man-at-arms had his hair slicked back, as though he had just dunked it into the fountain, as he always did. This time it brought no smile to Noah’s face.
He looked past Callum to the solitary figure standing at the head of the crowds. The priest's sharp features flickered in the torchlight, making him look almost unreal as he watched Noah approach.
Noah was unhappy about the sheer number of people this man could influence. It could not just be members of Keira’s village who had gathered behind him; some had to be from the MacAllen clan. Noah was ashamed of every single one of them for having their heads turned by such a man.
They are people of God, and he is a man of God. It is not always so easy to dismiss one's faith , he conceded. But there was a bitter taste in his mouth all the same.
Noah glanced at Callum. His man-at-arms stood very still, watching the priest, his expression stern and determined.
“Ye say the word and we’ll clear them from yer gates.”
“I ken, Callum. But we must try to end this peacefully. Everythin’ will only be made worse if blood is spilled tonight.”
“I ken that, but this isnae just an attack on Keira. This is yer castle.”
“Do they look like an army?” Noah asked skeptically.
“Appearances can be deceivin’,” Callum stated darkly.
Both of them looked at the priest standing before them— how true that is.
“I’ll talk to him,” Noah said. “Stay here for now, prepare the men.”
“Already done, me laird.”
Noah nodded and took a few steps forward. It was a cool night. Shadows grew long behind the torches before him, and a bright moon lit the sky.
“State yer business, priest,” Noah shouted, feeling a rush of power ripple through him as the quiet murmuring of the crowd settled into silence.
Callum was rigid behind him, his hand on his sword, loyal and resolute to the last.
The priest slowly walked forward. He had the command of every person present and there was a slight swagger to his step.
Noah understood the addictive feeling that power could bring. He had been born into a position that possessed it from birth, and he had seen the authority his presence in a room could hold. This man clearly enjoyed the feeling, he almost appeared to revel in it.
“Me Laird,” MacPhee shouted, his screeching voice carrying over the still air between them. “We want nay trouble from ye, we merely want what is ours—what God commands us to retrieve. We want Keira Young.”
The crowd bayed, screaming incoherent words at the tops of their voices, their torches held aloft. Cruel expressions twisted their features into monstrous forms in the dim light.
Noah stood his ground, staying utterly still as he surveyed the people before him.
He had seen enough conflicts to know that he could not escape bloodshed tonight. The crowd was rabid with fury, and that kind of tension could only spill over into fighting. It was up to him to contain it however he could.
He did not wish to harm any of the people who had gathered. They were not to blame for the lies this wicked man was spreading, but he could not avoid defending his own keep, and that meant setting trained soldiers against farmers with sticks in their hands.
This is goin’ to be a terrible night, he thought bitterly. And I would risk it all twice over to save her.
“Why do ye want her?” he shouted.
The crowd was silenced. Lucas was not. “Did ye nae hear? She is a witch, just as I told ye when ye thwarted our attempts to capture her before. We have nae quarrel with the MacAllen clan. In truth, many of yer own residents are standing here today, and they are only here in support of God’s work.”
His smile curled over his face as though he had played his winning hand already.
“Then I suggest ye leave,” Noah shouted. “Ye willnae get yer hands on her tonight. Or any night.”
Noah could see the bodies of his guards moving slowly along the walls, out of sight of the crowd. With a slight nod of his head, they all stilled, waiting for his next command.
He did not wish for the crowd to see how well-defended his castle was or to see hundreds of soldiers gathered to fight them just yet, but he had to be prepared.
No one threatens the people I care for and faces nae consequences.
The priest turned to the crowds.
“As ye can see,” Lucas cried, his hands raised over his head, as though giving a sermon. “Keira Young has bewitched yer good laird into believin’ her lies with her magic. He will do her biddin’ until she is gone from this world, and the spell she has cast over his mind has been broken.”
Noah’s jaw flexed, and Callum scoffed under his breath beside him.
“What magic is it she has used on ye? All I have seen is her care and mastery of healin’. He is quite mad.”
“Aye. He is.”
“This could get ugly,” Callum said gently, his eyes flicking to Noah’s and back to the crowd. “Are ye sure this is what ye wish to do?”
“They have come to me. They are threatenin’ me and me clan, all on the say of one man. I dinnae ken how to explain how wrong they are without a battle, but I wouldnae choose one.”
“Perhaps we can make an example of this MacPhee,” Callum said, his fingers tightening on his sword.
“I wouldnae wish to kill a man of god in front of his congregation either,” Noah said grimly.
His father's hatred and violence had created enough pain for them all to live by. Noah had always vowed he wouldn’t lower himself to the same degree.
That had been before Keira.
Now I would strike down any man who threatened her without a second thought. When did I become so like him?
They both paused as the priest raised his hands higher, looking monstrous in the half-light.
“What say ye?” MacPhee shouted as the murmurings of the crown began to reach a crescendo. Angry eyes watched them from all sides as the torches crept in closer. “Shall we liberate this man from her dark powers?”
A great shout went up as the crowd advanced.
“Kill the witch!”
Noah watched their approach, one hand on his sword—waiting, biding his time.
The main gates of the castle were open, but he doubted that the crowd would be foolish enough to charge. What they could reach were the many barrels and carts around the perimeter. After a pause, as though the whole crowd were holding their breath, someone threw a torch.
It sailed through the air like a falling star, all eyes tracking its trajectory as it bounced off the grass and landed squarely in the back of an old cart that had sat in the sun all day.
It only takes one spark to light a fire.
The cart burst into flames. Noah cursed as more torches followed. Several hay bales and a couple of small barrows flared in the darkness.
“Take a few guards and put out the fires,” he instructed. “No one is to attack any of me villagers. Subdue but do not harm,” he said to Callum.
“Aye, me laird. Ye men, with me,” Callum called as he ran forward through the gates with a small group of armed guards. He directed the men to fetch water from the fountain, and they quickly followed him with buckets filled to the brim.
Noah didn’t move.
He had learned in any battle that rushing in was the worst possible course of action. It was better to watch how the bodies moved and what their strategy was and act accordingly.
This crowd was a rabble. It might not have been leaderless, but it was not coordinated. Some people who had set fire to the outer reaches of the castle walls were old men, battered and bruised by life. They had probably never met anyone like Keira and only vaguely understood the concept of what Lucas called a witch.
Noah waited, wondering what would happen next. Small factions broke off from the main bulk of the throng and started hurling rocks at the castle walls. They were small missiles, but their aim was good. Many stones fell within inches of his boots.
He did not move.
He kept an eye on Callum, who stood back from the perpetrators, watching but not intervening. The crowd seemed riled up but not stupid—they could see the weapons the guards held—they had to know they did not stand a chance if they began fighting.
Noah walked slowly toward the gate, keeping his pace steady and certain. Multiple pairs of eyes latched onto his approach as the groups began to notice him. Many of them still held torches in their hands and all seemed to be waiting to see what the he might do.
Then, as Noah reached them and prepared to speak, a figure dashed in front of him.
Keira.
He threw out a hand to call her back as she leaped in front of him, her hands outstretched as though to protect him from the entire crowd herself.
“I am nay witch!”