CHAPTER 7 #2
The morning after his “wedding,” Ian and his chieftain surprised Sìleas’s stepfather with the news of the marriage—and an overwhelming force.
As soon as the MacKinnons surrendered the castle, Ian sailed for France, not caring who his chieftain chose to hold the castle in his name.
But fury, tinged with shame, burned in his belly now.
The clansman who stood in his place as defender of the castle had been killed in the MacKinnon attack.
As Ian moved through the crowd, he heard again and again the complaint about the loss of Knock Castle.
“What are ye going to do about your wife’s castle?” more than one man asked him. “We’re ready to fight for it, but we need a chieftain to lead us.”
Speak of the devil.
When the men around Ian shifted their gazes and stepped back, he turned to see Hugh Dubh emerge from the castle’s bridge followed by a score of men. Ian exchanged a glance with Alex over the heads of the other men to be sure Alex had seen Hugh. Alex nodded and headed his way.
Ian caught the priest by the arm. “Father, get the women and children inside the church.”
The priest turned and saw Hugh and his men. “I’ll get them inside, but I’m warning ye, I’ll have no violence here in the churchyard.”
“That’s up to Hugh,” Ian said. “All I can promise is that I won’t be starting it.”
Ian found Sìleas and Niall next. “Go inside now,” he said, putting his hand to the curve of her back to push her along.
Sìleas glared at the approaching men over her shoulder. “I’m not afraid of Hugh.”
“Ye should be,” Ian said, gripping her arm hard so she would know he meant it. “Niall, see that she gets inside, then help the priest with the others.”
Niall and Sìleas both scowled at him, but he didn’t have time to argue.
“Go now, both of ye.”
He moved to stand next to Alex just as Hugh and his men entered the churchyard. Hugh’s gaze was fixed on him, which was fine with Ian.
I am ready to cut your ballocks off, Hugh Dubh.
Hugh halted a yard in front of him and stood with his legs apart in a wide stance.
For a long moment, they took each other’s measure.
Hugh was a big, square-faced man who bore a strong resemblance to Connor’s father and Ragnall.
As the youngest of his father’s six sons, he couldn’t be much over thirty, though his years at sea made him look older.
When Connor’s father was made chieftain, Hugh took up pirating.
Judging from the colorful stories told about him, Hugh was successful at his trade.
Some believed he could call up a sea mist at will, because of the way his boats disappeared after an attack.
Others said Hugh had a large stash of gold hidden on the Isle of Uist—and that he fed captured children to the sea dragon that guarded it.
“I heard the two of ye were back,” Hugh said, resting his hand on the hilt of the long dirk in his belt. “Ye should have come to the castle to pay your respects.”
“If the men who used to work our land still did,” Ian said, “perhaps I could have spared the time for a wee visit.”
“The rest of ye stand back,” Hugh said, and lifted his hand. “I need a private word with the prodigal sons here.”
He waited to speak until the others backed away a few paces.
“I was merely encouraging your da to pledge his loyalty,” Hugh said, his eyes glinting with amusement. “But now that you’re here, I’ll accept your pledge in his place.”
Anger pulsed through Ian; his hand itched to reach for the claymore strapped to his back. One good swing and he could rid the clan of this vermin.
Ian made no effort to keep his voice down. “While my father lives, I’ll no be making decisions for him.” Ye slimy bastard.
“I hear he’s lost his mind, as well as his leg,” Hugh said. “It’s your duty to step up and take his place as head of your family.”
“As all the men here know,” Ian said in a loud voice, as he swept his arm out to encompass the men gathered around them in the churchyard, “my father fought in many battles with the Lord of the Isles to protect our clan. He merits the respect of his son and his clan.”
The men responded with nods and grunts of approval.
“I will not take my father’s place nor give his pledge,” Ian said, glaring at Hugh.
“And where does your father stand, Alexander Bàn MacDonald?” Hugh asked.
“If ye have to ask, my guess is he hasn’t given ye his support,” Alex said with a smile that suggested he knew very well his father wouldn’t favor Hugh. “Ye don’t suppose he has reservations about your ability to lead, do ye?”
The vein in Hugh’s neck pulsed as he flicked his gaze between Alex and Ian.
“In the end, he’ll bend his knee with all the rest of ye,” Hugh snapped. “Ye can tell Connor the same when ye see him.”
Ian turned to speak to the men behind him, leaving Alex to cover his back.
“As the son of Payton, a nephew to our dead chieftain, and a man of this clan,” Ian shouted, “I call for a gathering of the clan to choose our next chieftain, as is our custom.”
When Ian turned back, Hugh looked as if he would have liked to plant his claymore in his chest, but another round of approving grunts had him thinking better of it.
“That’s a fine idea,” Hugh said through his teeth. “We can all go into the hall of the castle and do it right now.”
Hugh’s men, a rough lot from his pirating days, raised their fists and shouted their agreement. For a moment, Ian feared he had lost control of the crowd, but it was soon evident from the silence of the other men that they did not agree with Hugh’s suggestion.
“Every man is entitled to a voice in the selection of our chieftain,” Tait called out. “Word must be sent to every member of the clan, with a date certain.”
There was a loud murmur of agreement.
Hugh could read the crowd as well as Ian. “We’ll confirm my place as chieftain at the Samhain gathering,” he said. “I’ll send word out that I expect every man to come to the castle and make his pledge.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. At least they wouldn’t have to fight their way into Dunscaith, since Hugh had agreed to a formal gathering to select a chieftain.
“Now, let’s see those babes christened.” Hugh signaled to his men, and the crowd parted for them as they headed for the church door.
“You’ve got ballocks,” Ian said to Alex, as they waited for the other men to go inside the church. “ Do ye suppose my father has reservations about your ability to lead? ”
“Me? I was just trying to make Hugh’s eyes bulge as much as you did.”
They shared a dry laugh, then started for the church.
“Samhain is less than three weeks away,” Alex said, worry tugging at his voice.
“It might be easier to take the castle by force,” Ian said, “than to persuade so many hard-headed MacDonalds of anything in so short a time.”
“Pity Hugh’s mother didn’t drown him at birth,” Alex said.
“Aye, ’tis a damn shame.”
The priest, who had a warrior’s build to go with his manner, stood at the doorway, making every man leave his weapons outside. “Now lads, ye can put your claymores in this pile and your dirks in that one. They’ll be no weapons in my church.”
“Did ye make Hugh Dubh and his men leave theirs?” Ian asked when it was his turn.
“I did,” the priest said. “And ye will leave yours as well.”
“You’re a brave man,” Ian said in a low voice. “If you’re a good one, too, then ye know that Hugh is the devil’s tool.”
The priest’s dark eyes flashed, and he gave Ian a slight nod.
“Ye can be sure that Hugh and his men kept a few dirks hidden from ye,” Ian said. “I mean no disrespect, but that means my cousin and I must keep ours as well.”
“Keep them well hidden,” the priest said in a low voice.
Ian leaned close to speak in the priest’s ear. “When the time comes, we’ll need every good man, including you, Father.”
“God will reward the righteous,” the priest said. “Now ye are holding up God’s work, so get inside.”
One look from Ian, and the boys who were sitting in the back pew got up to find other seats.
He and Alex needed to sit closest to the door—and the piles of weapons outside.
After they sat down, Ian searched the crowded church for Sìleas.
It didn’t take long to find her near the front.
Hair as bright as hers stood out, even among this many redheads.
“Who is that beside her?” he hissed at Alex.
“Beside who?”
“Ach, ye know damned well I meant Sìleas.”
Alex didn’t try to hide his smile. “I believe that’s your neighbor, Gòrdan.” After a pause, he added, “Gòrdan is a fine man. I’d wager the lasses find him handsome as well.”
Ian stewed as a dozen squalling babes were sprinkled and prayed over.
“By the saints, how many babes were born this year?” he complained.
“I’d say the men had a verra good winter,” Alex said.
Ian and Alex were the first ones out the door after the last babe was baptized. The drops of holy water didn’t have time to dry on the babe’s wee head before they had their weapons in their hands.
“ ’Tis good to have her again,” Alex said, kissing the blade of his claymore.
He and Alex stood side by side with their blades unsheathed as Hugh and his entourage filed out of the church.
Hugh stopped in front of them. “Mark my words, unless you’re dead by Samhain,” he hissed in a low voice, “you’ll be on your knees before me at the gathering.”
“One of us will be dead before that happens,” Ian said.
Ian met the gaze of each man as they came out of the church and passed him. He recognized most of them. Every man understood that the return of the Highlanders from France had shifted the balance of power here on Skye. Each man would have to choose sides.
When the last of Hugh’s men was on the bridge to the castle, Ian caught sight of Ilysa, Duncan’s sister.
She was such a slight thing, it was hard to believe she and Duncan came from the same mother.
In a shapeless gown and with her hair covered in a drab kerchief like a grandmother, Ilysa blended in with the married women.
He only noticed her when she looked up and gave him a razor-sharp glance.
Then she tilted her head, signaling she wanted to talk with him.
When he approached the group of women, they crowded around him asking about his travels. It took him some time to ease Ilysa away.
“I am sorry to hear you lost your husband at Flodden,” he said once they were out of the hearing of the others.
An emotion he couldn’t read crossed Ilysa’s face before she dropped her gaze and nodded to acknowledge his condolence.
“Where are ye living?” he asked.
“I’m back at the castle.”
Ian stared at her. “That can’t be safe. Hugh and his men are a rough lot.”
Ilysa and Duncan had grown up in the castle, but Ian had assumed she was living with her husband’s family.
“Ach, no one notices me,” Ilysa said with a small smile. “And just to be sure they keep their distance, I let it be known that I’m learning magic from Teàrlag.”
“I can’t believe Duncan is letting ye stay there,” Ian said.
“As if I’d let Duncan tell me what to do,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I managed without his instruction while the four of ye were gone. He did try, but I’m twice as stubborn as he is.”
That was saying something.
“But why stay at the castle?” Ian said. “If ye don’t want to go to your husband’s family, you’re welcome to stay at our house.”
“Connor needs eyes and ears in the castle, and none of ye can do that for him,” she said. “Hugh thinks so little of women, he has no notion I’m spying on him.”
If Duncan hadn’t been able to convince her, Ian wouldn’t be able to. “Ye be careful now. Don’t take any chances.”
“I have a message from Connor and Duncan,” Ilysa said in a low voice. “Ye are to meet them in the cave below Teàrlag’s cottage day after tomorrow.”
Alex came up behind them and put his arm around Ilysa’s narrow shoulders. “So how is Duncan’s baby sister?”
“I am just fine, and ye can take your hands off me, Alexander Bàn,” Ilysa said good-naturedly as she pushed Alex’s arm off. “What trouble are ye up to?”
“Trouble, me? No, I’ve been doing a good deed,” Alex said, with a devilish grin. Turning to Ian, he said, “I found a woman to help your mother and Sìleas in the kitchen.”
“Did ye now?” Ian scratched his neck. “Let me guess. Does the woman ye found happen to be an attractive lass with loose morals?”
“Here I am, trying to help out a poor kinswoman whose been thrown out by her husband,” Alex said, shaking his head, “and all ye want to do is criticize.”
“Ye don’t mean Dina, do ye?” Ilysa asked.
Dina? Ian had a vague memory of a dark-eyed, curvy lass who was a couple of years older than he was. He’d been between her thighs once or twice when he was barely old enough to know what to do.
“Good luck with that,” Ilysa said. “I must get back now. I’ve got Hugh believing no one else can make sure there’s plenty of food and ale on the table.”
When she had gone, Ian said, “Perhaps ye should have asked me before inviting someone to live in my house.”
“I didn’t see you finding anyone to help your poor mother and wife.” Alex shrugged. “But if ye don’t care that they are working their fingers to the bone, well…”
At the mention of Sìleas, Ian swept his gaze over the few women still in the churchyard.
“Have ye seen Sìleas?” he asked, thinking she must have gone back into the church.
“She left with Gòrdan”—Alex cleared his throat—“for their usual Sunday stroll.”
“Their what?”
“Don’t fret—she said they’ll meet us at the house,” Alex said. “Ye see, Gòrdan’s joining the family for Sunday dinner. As usual.”
“What does Sìleas think she’s doing?” Ian felt as if his head was exploding.
“Strolling, I suppose,” Alex said.
Ian wanted to smash his fist into the middle of Alex’s grinning face.
That sneaking Gòrdan. Ian found his brother by their horses and grabbed him by the arm. “Tell me what’s been going on with Sìleas and Gòrdan.”
Niall jerked his arm away. “Gòrdan’s been protecting her, just as we all have, in your absence.”
With that, Niall swung up onto his horse, slapped the reins, and galloped off. Ian blew out his breath and wondered what had happened to the young lad who used to look up to him. He would have to have a talk with his brother. But first, he would deal with Sìleas.
On the ride back to the house, he ignored Alex’s attempts at conversation. He was in no mood for it. He kept his eyes out for Gòrdan and Sìleas, but he did not catch a glimpse of the wandering pair all the way back.
If they were not on the path, where in the hell were they?