Chapter 22
“Niamh! Lily!” Killian roared at the top of his lungs when he arrived at the scene.
A part of the cabin’s thatched roof collapsed to the ground, splattering sparks of fire and stopping Killian and his men from getting closer to it.
Killian heard a scream and recognized the voice as Lily’s. He felt his heart pound against his ribcage. His panic clawed its way fast inside him, seizing every rational thought and air, making it difficult to breathe.
“They are trapped inside!” Killian yelled and moved towards the cabin again, but Fletcher stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “Let me go! My sister and Lily are trapped in there.”
“I cannae let ye risk yer life, m’laird,” Fletcher insisted as Killian struggled against him. “Ye’re the laird, and ye must survive to rule yer people.”
“I willnae repeat myself, Fletcher.” Killian broke free from Fletcher’s grasp and raced for the cabin with all his might.
The fire consumed the outer part, and he could not get in from the doorway. He ran to the window, grabbed a log from the ground, and tried to break the glass with it.
The window burst open before he got the chance, and Lily pushed Niamh out first before she jumped, throwing herself to the ground and rolling away with speed.
A loud eruption followed, and the cabin gave way, caving in on itself in a splatter of ash and wood.
“Niamh,” Killian called as he rushed to his sister.
Niamh coughed and struggled to breathe as he helped her sit up.
Lily managed to sit up too, and she was panting. Her dress was torn, and her face was blackened with soot and ash. Her eyes flew to his, and he saw the terror in them. Tears pooled in their blue depths, and his heart ached just to see her like that.
“What happened?” Niamh asked when she finally caught her breath. Killian shifted his gaze to her and examined her face and body to make sure she was not injured anywhere. “Who started the fire?”
A crowd of villagers had gathered around the burning cabin now. Killian saw Fletcher help Lily to her feet when he looked back at her, and relief flooded him.
“I didnae see who started the fire,” he told Niamh. “But they started it from the fields somewhere and left a trail of oil so it burned down this path to the cabin.”
One of his men came with a pail and dropped it on the ground. “I found this hidden in the shrubs there,” he said, pointing to the thick gathering of short trees to their left. “The culprit must have left it there when he ran.”
“Search the area for anything suspicious,” Killian ordered. “If ye find anyone hidin’ in there, bring them to me.”
After his men dispersed, Fletcher and Lily joined Killian and Niamh where they stood.
Fletcher bowed his head. “I am sorry for stoppin’ ye, m’laird. It is my instinct to protect ye first.”
“Nae when my sister is in danger, Fletcher,” Killian scolded. “Or Lily… I would give my life to save these two every single time. Ye should ken this.”
Niamh tightened her grip on his hand, while Lily’s eyes softened. Killian rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.
Soot and smoke mingled with his breath before he opened his eyes again. “It isnae safe for either of ye here. We must return to the keep at once.”
Lily did not argue with him this time, so he ordered Fletcher to get their horses, and then he released Niamh for a few seconds so he could speak to Lily.
“Are ye hurt anywhere?” Killian asked.
“I am all right,” Lily said and sniffed a little. “I was scared for a moment when I woke up and saw the cabin was on fire. Do you think the culprit was trying to kill me or Niamh? Or was he trying to scare us?”
“I think he was tryin’ to kill me,” Killian answered gravely as his eyes held hers.
After Lily and Niamh retired to another cabin, he decided to go around the village to assess the damage. He had plans to station a troop of men here for as long as he needed. That way, his enemy could never surprise him with an attack.
We would be prepared for anything that comes our way.
They set out when Fletcher returned with horses for their trip back home. Lily and Niamh rode together, galloping in front of Killian and the rest of his men.
It rained heavily the next morning when they arrived at the main village and headed for his keep. Killian immediately convened with his councilmen.
“We have heard the news of the raids in Wehnthor. The people in the neighboring village are uneasy. They believe it will be their turn next. We must do somethin’, m’laird,” one of the councilmen said as he rose to his feet.
“We must act, m’laird. We shall rain war on their doorstep and prove to the other clans that we are not weak!”
The council erupted in an uproar, as every man wanted to voice his opinion on the issue. Some of them chanted for war, others chanted for an amicable truce with their enemy.
Their volcanic arguments drowned Killian’s thoughts, and he let himself think of the options he had. Gathering his men to fight Laird McLennan was an option, but what if he was wrong? What if Lily was right all along, and these attacks were from someone else?
I have to be sure.
“If I put my men on the battlefield, then it must be for a right cause,” Killian finally said, his deep baritone interrupting their arguments.
“Silence,” Fletcher ordered from Killian’s side when some men kept murmuring their displeasure. “Yer laird speaks!”
Killian cleared his throat after that, then fixed his eyes on the faces of his councilmen, taking in their expressions.
“We want a laird who will defend us and act in our favor. We have lost our children… our wives,” a councilman representing Wehnthor spoke. “We continue to live in fear when we have an army that can take on our enemies.”
“War isnae the answer,” Killian answered in the same stern tone the man used.
He had witnessed council meetings when his father had been laird many years ago, and he knew the councilmen could voice their displeasure through riots and petitions for the lairdship to be taken away from him.
Killian, however, was more concerned with making a decision that benefitted everyone rather than his councilmen only. He cared more for the lives he would lose if he charged into battle and found out he was wrong, in the end.
“We ken our enemy,” another councilman added. “Why can we nae fight him?”
“I shallnae send our men to war if I am nae sure of my enemy,” Killian answered before he rose from his chair. Then, he added with a note of finality, “Ye’re all dismissed.”
Later, alone with Fletcher in his study, Killian went through more of his brother’s scrolls to track his business.
“I havenae seen any records of my brother and Laird McLennan’s business here,” Killian said to his man-at-arms as he sat on a settee and picked one.
“Yer brother didnae keep records of it,” Fletcher answered. “These willnae help ye, m’laird. The last time yer brother met with Richard Easton, he told him about Laird McLennan, and they feasted in McLennan Castle. Yer brother would have kept a record if he took a cut of the profits.”
“Are ye sure it wasnae some other laird? Perhaps ye are wrong? Perhaps ye are—” Killian said.
“I have served yer family for many years, m’laird. I dinnae want a war either. But Laird McLennan has tried to kill ye three times now. He doesnae care for the lass ye kidnapped. He hasnae tried to get her back… He seems only interested in killin’ ye and perhaps takin’ over the clan.
“The last time, he lured us out by sendin’ word that he wanted the lass back. This is what he does. He asked yer brother to meet him at the cliff that night… I was there.”
Killian rubbed his eyes because they began to hurt, and then he set the scroll aside.
“I ken what I must do. After I meet with Richard Easton, I shall end this. There is nay need to send word. Whoever Richard Easton mentions must be my brother’s killer, so I shall go to him to end this once and for all. ”