CHAPTER 17
Ian greeted each man at the door of the church to be sure no one entered they didn’t trust.
“Father Brian, it was brave of ye to agree to let us meet here,” Ian said when the priest arrived. “But ye didn’t need to risk coming here yourself tonight.”
“I prayed over it, and God approves,” the priest said, and went inside. Ian had heard the priest had a woman, and he supposed God had approved that as well.
It was time to begin.
Ian stepped out into the night and listened. When he heard nothing but the howl of the wind, he went back inside and signaled to Connor that all was ready.
Duncan and Alex joined him at the back, where they would be the first to meet any uninvited guests, while Connor took his place at the front.
Because of the church’s close proximity to Dunscaith Castle, only two candles were lit, one on either side of Connor.
The men who were milling about found seats, and the room grew quiet.
Although the rest of the church was in deep shadow, Ian sensed that all eyes were on Connor.
“You have come here tonight,” Connor said in a voice that filled the church, “because the MacKinnons have stolen Knock Castle from us, and ye know we must take it back.”
Several of the men shouted and raised their fists or banged their claymores on the floor.
“Ye served my father when he was chieftain,” Connor said when they grew quiet again.
“And he damned well wouldn’t have let the MacKinnons take what belongs to us!” This outburst from one of the older men was followed by a loud murmur of agreement.
“We need Knock Castle to protect our lands to the east from invaders,” Connor said. “It is a danger to all our homes not to have it in MacDonald hands.”
Ian smiled in appreciation of how simply Connor put the matter before the men. He spoke a truth they all knew, in contrast to Hugh, who lied through his teeth whether he needed to or not.
“For the clan’s protection, we must take it back,” Connor said, and again there were murmurs of approval. “The question is how to go about it without a chieftain to lead us.”
“It’s time we had a chieftain willing to fight for us,” one man shouted.
It was, but Connor was wise enough not to make that move yet.
Connor let the rumble grow before he put his hands up for silence. “Hugh has declared himself chieftain,” he said, reinforcing in their minds that Hugh had not yet been chosen by the clan. “I don’t want to put anyone in the position of going against the man who may well become our chieftain.”
There were grumblings. So far, this was going just as they hoped.
“While Hugh has refused to fight for Knock Castle, he never said that others should not.”
Connor paused to give the men time to consider this and come to the conclusion he wanted. He was good at this.
“There is one man here who has a clear right to that castle,” Connor said. “And I say that a man with a right need not wait for his chieftain to act on his behalf, if he believes he can accomplish the deed himself.”
Several men turned to peer at Ian in the shadows at the back of the church.
“And if some of his clansmen wish to lend him a hand, all the better!”
There were shouts of “Aye! Aye!”
One man stepped into the center aisle of the church and waited to speak until Connor acknowledged him with a nod.
“If ye are speaking of Ian MacDonald, he has no right to Knock Castle.”
As soon as the man opened his mouth, Ian knew it was that damned Gòrdan.
“It is Sìleas who is the heir—Sìleas, and then her child. So far as I know,” Gòrdan said, turning to look down the aisle at Ian, “the lass is no carrying Ian’s child.”
A child would make Ian’s right certain. For now, he was claiming it on behalf of Sìleas and their future children.
“Ian’s only been back a week,” Alex shouted. “Give the man some time.”
Alex’s remark caused a round of laughter and an easing of the tension that Gòrdan’s interruption had caused.
But Gòrdan wasn’t finished.
“Ian deserted her,” Gòrdan said. “If Sìleas has decided to take a different husband, no one can blame her.”
“She has done no such thing, nor will she!” Ian struggled to shake off Duncan’s arm so he could go up there and smash Gòrdan’s face in.
“All I know,” Gòrdan said, turning around again to be sure Ian didn’t miss his words, “is that a man cannot get a woman with child if she’s no sharing his bed.”
This time, Ian broke free from Duncan’s grip. He landed on Gòrdan, and the two crashed to the floor—but he only got in a few punches before Connor and Alex pulled him off. When Gòrdan sprang to his feet and tried to swing at him, Duncan caught Gòrdan from behind and held him.
“If ye haven’t bedded her yet,” Connor hissed an inch from Ian’s face, “see that ye do before we gather the men to take the castle.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Ian said between his teeth, as he glared at his cousin.
“As for you, Gòrdan MacDonald,” Connor said, turning and grabbing Gòrdan by the front of his shirt. “If ye think Sìleas might choose you instead, I suggest ye keep your mouth shut and your sword sharp for the fight for her castle.”
“Sìleas is my wife,” Ian said, locking eyes with Gòrdan. “If Gòrdan wants to take her, he’ll have to kill me first.”
Ian shrugged Connor off and pushed past the others to stand at the front of the room.
“A MacDonald fights for what belongs to him,” he shouted to the gathered men. “I ask you to join me in the fight for Knock Castle for the sake of our clan. But whether ye do or not, I will take it. For I am a MacDonald, and I keep what is mine.”
Ian let his gaze travel slowly around the room, then drew his claymore and held it high. “I am Ian MacDonald, husband of Sìleas, and I Will Take Knock Castle!”
The floorboards of the church vibrated with the thumping of feet and the pounding of claymores as the men shouted with him, shaking the building with their battle cry.
“Knock Castle! Knock Castle! Knock Castle!”