Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"The northern route needs constant surveillance."
Lachlann's finger traced a line across the map spread before him, marking the path with deliberate precision. Around the war room table, six of his most trusted soldiers leaned in, their expressions grim.
"Aye, me laird," Malcolm said, studying the coastline. "But that's a lot of ground tae cover with the men we have."
"Then we double the patrols." Lachlann's jaw set. "I dinnae care if it means shorter rest periods. After what happened with the archer and with Thomas' betrayal, we cannae afford any weaknesses."
James stood at his right shoulder, arms crossed. "What about the southern coves? They're more hidden. Better fer sneakin' boats in and out."
"Which is exactly why they need watchin' too." Lachlann marked three positions along the southern coastline. "Post men here, here, and here, rotatin’ shifts every six hours so they stay sharp. And I want signals set up. If anyone spots anythin' suspicious, I need tae ken about it immediately."
"And the prisoners?" one of the younger soldiers asked. "The kidnappers and Thomas? What's tae be done with them?"
Lachlann's expression hardened. "They stay locked up until I decide their fate. Triple guard on that dungeon. No one gets in or out without me kennin’ about it. And I want different guards every shift, nay chance fer anyone tae get comfortable or make deals."
"Ye think there might be others?" Malcolm's hand went to his sword hilt. "Other traitors?"
"I dinnae ken." The admission tasted bitter. "But I'm nae takin' any chances. Thomas was bribed once. Someone else might be tempted if Torquil offers enough coin."
The men exchanged uneasy glances. The idea that one of their own could betray them—could let enemies into their home, could help kidnap a woman under their laird's protection—had shaken everyone's faith.
"We need tae be vigilant," Lachlann continued, his voice firm.
"Question everythin'. Watch fer anythin' unusual.
And if any of ye have concerns about another guard, ye come tae me or James immediately.
I dinnae care if it's yer best friend or yer braither, we cannae afford divided loyalties right now. "
"Aye, me laird."
Lachlann turned back to the map, marking additional patrol routes with quick, efficient strokes.
"The eastern forests need coverin' too. That's how they got Alba out, through the trees where our wall patrols couldnae see.
So, we extend our watch intae the forest itself.
Teams of two, never alone, checkin' every path that leads toward the coast."
"That's a lot of men spread thin," James observed quietly.
"I ken that." Lachlann's fingers pressed flat against the map. "But until we ken what Torquil's plannin', until we can be certain there are nay more traitors in our midst, we have tae assume the worst."
A soft sound from the doorway made him pause.
Lachlann's gaze flicked up and caught movement in the shadows just outside the war room. A flash of dark hair. The hem of a dress disappearing behind the door frame.
Alba.
His mouth twitched despite the seriousness of the conversation. Of course she was listening. The woman had been spying on him and Calum since she was sixteen, why would she stop now?
"Me laird?" Malcolm prompted.
Lachlann pulled his attention back to the map. "Right. As I was sayin'—forest patrols, teams of two, checkin' every path. And I want reports brought tae me personally at dawn and dusk. Any changes, any unusual activity, I need tae ken about it immediately."
"What about supply lines?" another soldier asked. "If we're spreadin' out this far, we'll need more provisions fer the men on extended patrol."
"Good point." Lachlann marked several locations. "Set up supply caches here and here. Enough fer three days at minimum. Dried meat, water, basic medical supplies. And make sure every patrol kens where they are."
James leaned over the map, frowning at one of the northern positions. "This route here, it's rough terrain. Hard tae patrol quickly."
"Then we give it tae our best climbers. Men who can navigate the rocks without slowin' down." Lachlann's finger tapped the spot. "Speed matters less than thorough coverage. I'd rather have a slower patrol that actually sees what's there than a fast one that misses half the threats."
The meeting continued, questions and answers flowing back and forth as they refined the strategy.
Lachlann noticed the shadow in the doorway shift occasionally, Alba moving to get a better view, or maybe just restless from standing still too long.
He should probably send her away. They were discussing military business, not appropriate for a lady to be listening in on.
But the thought of her interest, of her caring enough to spy, made warmth bloom in his chest despite everything.
"What about communication between patrols?" Malcolm asked. "If one team spots somethin', how dae they alert the others quickly?"
"Signal fires at each watch point." Lachlann drew circles at strategic locations. "One fire means all clear. Two means possible threat. Three means immediate danger. And every patrol carries a horn fer emergencies."
"Understood, me laird," the soldier said.
Lachlann studied the map one final time, checking for any gaps in coverage, any weaknesses Torquil might exploit. Satisfied, he straightened.
"That's all fer now. Get the patrols organized and ready tae deploy by this afternoon. Malcolm, ye're in charge of the northern routes. Finn, ye take the southern coast. And I want hourly check-ins from all positions fer the first day until we're certain the system works."
"Aye, me laird."
The soldiers began filing out, their expressions determined despite the increased workload Lachlann had just assigned them. James lingered, waiting until they were alone before speaking.
"Ye're spreadin' them pretty thin," he said quietly. "If Torquil decides tae hit us with a real force—"
"Then we pull everyone back tae the castle and make our stand here." Lachlann rolled up the map. "But I'd rather have warnin' of an attack comin' than be caught surprised."
"Fair enough." James glanced toward the doorway where the shadow had been. "Ye ken ye have an audience, aye?"
"I ken."
"And ye're just... lettin' her listen?"
"She's nae exactly hidin' well." Lachlann's mouth curved slightly. "And besides, she has a right tae ken what we're daein' tae keep her safe."
James's eyebrow rose. "That why ye're daein' all this? Fer her?"
"I'm daein' this fer everyone in this castle." But even as Lachlann said it, he knew it wasn't entirely true.
Yes, he wanted his people safe. But the driving force behind every decision, every patrol route, every precaution, was the memory of Alba's limp body in that kidnapper's arms.
Was the terror of almost losing her.
Was the absolute certainty that he would burn the world down before he let Torquil take her.
James seemed to read all of that in his expression. "Ye're in deep, arenae ye?"
"Aye." No point denying it. "I am."
"And when Calum finds out?"
"Then I'll deal with it." Lachlann's jaw set. "But right now, keepin' Alba safe is more important than worryin' about me best friend's reaction."
James was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Just... be careful, aye? I'd hate tae see the Covenant broken over this."
"So would I." The words came out rougher than Lachlann intended. "But some things are worth the risk."
James clapped him on the shoulder once, then headed for the door. He paused when he reached it, glancing into the corridor with poorly concealed amusement.
"Good mornin', Lady Alba," he said cheerfully. "Lovely day fer... standin' in corridors, is it?"
"I—that is—" Alba's flustered voice carried into the war room. "I was just passin' by."
"Course ye were." James's grin was audible. "Have a good day, me lady."
His footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving silence in their wake.
Lachlann waited, arms crossed, watching the empty doorway with barely suppressed amusement.
One heartbeat. Two.
Then Alba appeared, stepping into the war room with her chin lifted defiantly despite the flush staining her cheeks.
"Ye saw me," she said. Not a question.
"Aye." Lachlann's mouth twitched. "Just like I saw ye that day at Loch Moy when ye were sixteen and thought ye were bein' so clever, hidin' in the trees."
"I was perfectly well hidden."
"Ye were visible from the water, lass. We all saw ye."
Alba's eyes widened. "Ye… all of ye?"
"Every single one." Lachlann couldn't hold back his grin anymore. "Calum thought it was hilarious. Wanted tae call out tae ye, but David convinced him tae let ye think ye'd gotten away with it."
"I cannae believe it." Alba pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks. "Ye all kenned? This entire time?"
"Aye. And we've been enjoyin' watchin' ye try tae be subtle about yer... observations." He pushed away from the table, moving closer. "Though I have tae say, yer technique hasnae improved much over the years."
"I was nae spyin'." Alba lifted her chin higher, though the effect was somewhat ruined by how red her face had gone. "I was merely... passin' by. And happened tae notice ye were in a meetin'. And thought it might be... educational tae listen."
"Educational." Lachlann stopped in front of her, arms still crossed, looking down at her with open amusement. "That what we're callin' it now?"
"It's a perfectly reasonable explanation."
"It's a terrible lie, is what it is." He reached out, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulder just to watch her breath hitch. "But I suppose I should be flattered that ye find me military plannin' so fascinatin'."
"I find it... informative." Alba's hands twisted together in front of her. "And since the patrols are partly fer me protection, I thought I should ken what ye were daein'."
"So ye were spyin'."
"I was observin'." She swatted at his hand. "There's a difference."
"Is there?" Lachlann let his hand drop but didn't step back. "Because from where I'm standin', they seem remarkably similar."
Alba's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "Ye're insufferable."
"Aye, ye've mentioned that before." He grinned. "Usually right before ye kiss me."
Her face went from pink to scarlet. "Lachlann!"
"What? It's true." He was enjoying it far too much—the way she sputtered, the way her eyes flashed, the way she tried so hard to maintain her dignity while clearly flustered. "Ye called me insufferable in the corridor. Then ye kissed me. Ye said it again on the battlements—"
"I get the point."
"Dae ye?" He leaned in slightly. "Because I'm startin' tae think ye might actually like when I'm insufferable."
"That's—" Alba's hands flew up as though to push him away, then stopped halfway, hovering uncertainly in the air between them. "That's the most arrogant thing I've ever heard."
"But ye're nae denyin' it."
She glared at him. Or tried to. But her lips kept twitching toward a smile despite her best efforts.
"Ye're impossible," she said finally.
"Still nae a denial."
"I should leave. Let ye get back tae yer very important military plannin' that I definitely was nae spyin' on."
"Observin'," Lachlann corrected solemnly.
"Exactly." Alba started to turn toward the door, then paused. "Though... I did think yer patrol routes were well planned. Thorough coverage without leavin' any obvious gaps."
Warmth bloomed in Lachlann's chest at the praise. "Ye understood all that?"
"I'm nae simple, Lachlann. I ken how tae read a map." She glanced back at him, something softer in her expression now. "And I ken ye're daein' all this tae keep everyone safe. Tae keep me safe."
"Aye." The playfulness faded from his voice. "I am."
Their eyes held for a long moment, the air between them shifting into something heavier, more charged.
"Thank ye," Alba said quietly. "Fer the letter this mornin'. And fer stayin' with me last night. And fer—" She paused, swallowing. "Fer everythin'."
"Alba."
"I should go." She moved toward the door quickly, before he could respond. "I'm sure ye have a thousand things tae dae, and I'm just—"
"Stay."
The word came out more like a plea than a command. Alba froze in the doorway, her back to him.
"Just... fer a moment," Lachlann continued. "Sit with me while I finish preparin' fer the day. I've got correspondence tae review, and—" He paused, suddenly uncertain. "I'd like the company."
Yer company. Nay one else's.
Alba turned slowly, her expression unreadable. Then she moved to one of the chairs near the window and sat, smoothing her skirts with careful precision.
"All right," she said softly. "I'll stay."
Relief flooded through him, stronger than it had any right to be.
Lachlann returned to the table and pulled out the stack of letters James had left for him—reports from scouts, requests from clansmen, correspondence from neighboring lairds.
He began working through them methodically, but his awareness never left the woman sitting quietly across the room.
"So," Alba said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "When ye all saw me at Loch Moy... did ye talk about it afterward?"
Lachlann looked up, grinning. "Oh, aye. Extensively."
"Lachlann!"
"I cannae believe—" Alba shook her head, but she was smiling now. "All this time..."
"Ye were adorable." The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Silence fell.
Lachlann kept his eyes fixed on the letter in front of him, not daring to look up and see her reaction.
"Adorable," Alba repeated finally, her voice strange.
"Aye. Sixteen, thinkin' ye were invisible in those trees while ye watched us swim. It was—" He risked a glance. "Sweet."
Their eyes met across the room. Alba's cheeks had gone pink again, but not from embarrassment.
"Ye're terrible at correspondence when I'm here," she observed, her voice softer now. "Ye've been starin' at the same letter fer five minutes."
"That's because ye're distractin'."
"I'm just sittin' here."
"Aye. And it's very distractin'."
Alba's smile turned mischievous. "Should I leave then? Let ye focus?"
"Nay." The answer came too quickly, too certainly. "Stay. I'll manage."
"If ye're sure."
"I'm sure."
He returned to his work; or tried to.
But every few minutes, his gaze would drift back to Alba, watching the way afternoon light caught in her hair, the small smile that played at her lips, the peaceful contentment in her expression.
And Lachlann found he didn't mind the distraction at all.