Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Blood pooled on the deck where Euan’s men threw the prisoner down at his feet.
The MacKenzie warrior was young—barely past twenty, with terror warring against defiance in his eyes as rough hands forced him to his knees. His face was a mess of bruises and cuts, but he lifted his chin with stubborn pride.
“Talk.” Euan’s voice cut through the salt wind like a blade. He stood over the prisoner, sword still drawn, the weapon’s edge dark with MacKenzie blood. “Who sent ye? What were yer orders?”
The young warrior’s mouth twisted. Then he spat—a glob of blood and saliva that splattered across Euan’s boot.
Niall moved forward, fist clenched, but Euan raised a hand. “Leave him.”
“Me laird—”
“I said leave him.” Euan crouched down, bringing himself eye-level with the prisoner. “Ye’re brave. I’ll give ye that. But bravery willnae save ye now. Yer ship is taken. Yer men are dead or captured. And ye’re going tae tell me what I want tae ken, one way or another.”
“I’ll tell ye naething, MacLeod.” The defiance didn’t quite hide the fear beneath. “Kill me and be done with it.”
“Oh, I will.” Euan kept his tone conversational. “But first, ye’re going tae answer me questions. Starting with why Keith MacKenzie sent a single ship tae test me defenses.”
The prisoner’s jaw clenched. “Go tae hell.”
“Already been there.” Euan straightened, gesturing to Niall. “Strip him. Check fer anything useful. Then throw him in the hold with the others.”
“Wait!” The word burst out. “Wait, ye—ye cannae—”
“Cannae what?” Euan turned back. “Cannae treat ye the same way yer laird treated me people? The same way he burned villages and murdered children?”
“That wasnae me! I didnae—”
“But ye followed orders, didnae ye?” Euan’s voice hardened. “Ye sailed here tae scout our defenses. So aye, lad—ye’re complicit in every death. And unless ye give me a reason nae tae, I’ll see ye hang fer it.”
The prisoner’s face went grey. “This was just the beginning. The beginning, ye understand? Laird MacKenzie—he’s nae coming with one ship.”
Euan’s blood went cold. “How many?”
“Ten. Maybe more.” The words tumbled out. “He’s been gathering forces fer weeks. Paid shipwrights, hired mercenaries. He means tae take Skye entire, nae just raid it.”
“When?” Euan demanded.
“Days. Maybe less.” The prisoner’s good eye darted between warriors. “We were supposed tae scout yer defenses, report back. Then the main force would come—overwhelming numbers, multiple landing sites. Ye’d be fighting on all fronts at once.”
Niall cursed. “That’s six hundred men, minimum.”
“Why now?” Euan asked quietly. “Why such a massive escalation?”
The prisoner’s gaze dropped. “Because of her.”
Every muscle in Euan’s body went rigid. “Who?”
“The laird’s daughter. Lady Moyra.”
“So this is revenge?” Niall’s voice carried disbelief.
“It’s nae just revenge.” The prisoner looked up. “As long as she’s alive, she’s a rallying point. MacKenzies who remember her maither might look tae her instead of him. She’s a threat tae his control.”
Understanding crashed through Euan. Keith didn’t just want to conquer Dunvegan. He wanted to eliminate his daughter—permanently.
“What role is she meant tae play?” The question came out harsh.
The prisoner’s mouth clamped shut.
“Answer me.” Euan crouched again, his voice dropping to something dangerous.
“She’s—” The prisoner swallowed hard. “She’s meant tae die. In the assault. Make it look like a MacLeod killed her. That’d remove her as a potential rival tae whatever heir his new wife gives him.”
Euan stood slowly, his hands clenched. “Get him below deck. Keep him alive—he’s worth more as a witness.”
The return to Dunvegan took half the time the outbound journey had.
Euan pushed his ships hard, urgency making every minute feel like an eternity. Behind them, the captured MacKenzie vessel limped along under guard.
“We need tae call a full council meeting the moment we dock,” David said. “If Keith’s truly bringing ten ships, we’ll need every allied clan we can muster.”
“Already planned.” Euan stared at the approaching towers. Somewhere in those walls, Moyra waited—unaware her father had just ordered her death.
The ships slid into harbor. The moment the gangplank touched stone, Euan was moving—striding toward the castle with purpose that made warriors scramble to keep pace.
He had to see Moyra. Had to confirm she was safe.
The castle courtyard bustled with activity. Euan pushed through it all, heading for their chambers.
But before he reached the stairs, a familiar voice stopped him.
“Euan!”
He turned to find Moyra emerging from the great hall, her wedding gown replaced by a simple work dress, copper hair escaping its braid. She looked exhausted—shadows under her eyes, flour dusting her sleeves—but whole. Safe.
Relief nearly drove him to his knees.
“Ye’re back.” She crossed to him, her hands finding his. “I heard the ships. Are ye hurt? What happened?”
“I’m fine.” He pulled her close, not caring who saw. “Are ye all right? Ye were supposed tae rest—”
“I was resting. Then the refugees needed organizing and I couldnae just—” She stopped, studying his face. “Something’s wrong. What happened out there?”
His jaw clenched. “Our chambers. Now.”
The council chamber filled quickly at Euan’s summons.
“Ten ships,” Euan said without preamble. “Six hundred warriors, maybe more. Keith’s planning a full invasion within days. Multiple landing sites with overwhelming forces. He means tae break us completely.”
Grim silence followed.
“We cannae hold against those numbers,” Malcolm said finally. “Nae without significant reinforcements.”
“Which is why the Covenant clans need tae mobilize immediately.” Euan looked at his brothers. “I’m calling in every oath, every favor. We need warriors here within days.”
“Ye’ll have them,” Calum promised. “But even with our full forces, we’ll be hard-pressed.”
“There’s more.” Euan’s knuckles whitened against the table edge. “The prisoner revealed Keith’s true objective. This isnae just about territory—it’s about Lady Moyra. She’s meant tae die in the assault. Keith wants her eliminated, tae remove her as a potential rival tae his heir.”
Shocked murmurs rippled through the chamber.
He’d murder his own daughter?” Malcolm’s voice carried disbelief.
“Aye. I’ve already informed Lady Moyra of the threat.” Euan’s jaw clenched. “Which changes everything. This isnae just an invasion—it’s an assassination plot against me wife.”
“What did she say?” David asked carefully.
“What ye’d expect. She’s angry, hurt, but she’s nae broken.” Pride colored Euan’s tone despite the grim situation. “And she had a suggestion—one that could solve our support problem.”
“Which is?” Fergus leaned forward.
“The Crown.” Euan straightened. “Lady Moyra pointed out that Keith’s planning an invasion of Skye—that’s nae just a clan dispute anymore. That’s an attack on crown territory without royal sanction.”
Understanding dawned around the table.
“She’s right,” Daniel said. “If we can get the king’s attention, Keith’s invasion becomes treason rather than internal Highland politics.”
“But will the king care?” Fergus challenged. “He’s got enough problems without involving himself in clan feuds.”
“He’ll care if we present it properly,” Euan said.
“Lady Moyra’s already drafting a formal letter—detailed, emphasizing the threat tae crown authority.
The burned villages, the planned invasion, the sheer scale of Keith’s ambitions.
She kens how her father thinks and how the crown will respond.
She’ll make it clear this isnae about family politics—it’s about a Highland laird gathering enough force tae challenge royal authority itself. ”
“Using his own daughter’s knowledge against him,” David said with grim approval. “There’s justice in that.”
“Aye. She’s putting her education in court politics tae good use.” Euan’s expression hardened. “Her faither taught her well before he decided she was expendable. Now we’ll use that against him.”
“When will the letter be ready?” Malcolm asked.
“Within the hour. She’s working on it now in the solar.” Euan looked around the table. “Once it’s finished, it goes tae the king immediately with our fastest rider. In the meantime, we prepare fer siege. I want every defense ready within two days.”
“And Lady Moyra?” Fergus asked. “If Keith’s coming specifically tae kill her—”
“She stays in the keep’s center when the attack comes. Surrounded by our best guards. But until then, she’s helping organize the refugees and drafting the correspondence we need. She’s nae sitting idle while we prepare.”
“She’s got spine,” Calum observed. “Learning her faither wants her dead and immediately turning it intae strategy.”
“Aye. She’s exactly who this clan needs as Lady MacLeod. Which is why we’re going tae make damn certain Keith doesnae get anywhere near her.”
The Council murmured agreement.
“Then let’s begin,” Euan said. “The rest of ye—begin preparations fer siege. Strengthen the walls, stockpile provisions, drill the men. When Keith arrives, I want him tae find Dunvegan ready fer a long fight.”
The Council dispersed with purposeful urgency, leaving Euan with his Covenant brothers.
“She really suggested the crown approach?” David asked once they were alone.
“Aye. Soon as I told her about Keith’s plans.” Euan’s mouth quirked despite everything. “Didnae even hesitate. Just started thinking strategically about how tae turn her father’s threat into our advantage.”
“Ye chose well,” Archibald rumbled. “A wife with both courage and cunning.”
“I ken.” Euan moved toward the door. “Now if ye’ll excuse me, I need tae check on that letter. And make sure me wife is actually eating something instead of just working herself intae exhaustion.”
“Go,” Calum said, his grin returning. “We’ll handle the defense preparations. Ye handle yer wife.”
“That’s the harder job,” David observed dryly.
Despite everything, Euan found himself smiling as he left. His brothers at his back, his wife by his side—Keith MacKenzie had no idea what he was walking into.