Chapter 6
Pelna hadn’t intended to become so heated, especially so quickly, during her audience with the McDaughs.
The truth of it, though, was that none of it had gone the way she’d planned.
She had expected to speak to Laird Fredric directly and had prepared her words for him.
When she’d walked into the great hall and seen Gareth sitting there instead, it had thrown her for a loop, and she’d lost her temper.
She chided herself for that now. The fact of the matter was, these people could very easily ensure that she never returned home if they had a mind to.
The longer she stood in this hall, the more the creeping dread of that outcome overtook her.
Honor? Had she truly relied on the honor of the McDaughs to stop them from holding her for ransom when they had slaughtered a poor farmer as an intimidation tactic?
Perhaps her father had been right, and it was a grave mistake for her to be there. Gareth seemed to be growing calmer and more reserved by the moment, and that drove the point home in terms of him having the upper hand entirely in this situation.
She needed to calm herself if she was to have any chance at all of leaving this place of her own free will when the time came to do so.
It was so damned difficult, though. Gareth’s smugness was infuriating, and she had no way of knowing how much of what she said to him would be accurately related to his father. She wished she could simply say what she needed to directly to Laird Fredric.
There was more to that as well. She had wanted to see the extent of the laird’s illness firsthand. Specifically, she had wanted to compare it to her own father’s ailment in terms of symptoms and severity.
Or, more frankly, she had wanted to try to determine which of the two men might expire first.
Pelna felt a scrap of guilt for that; this man’s father was very probably dying just as hers was, and since they had that in common, she knew she should feel more sympathy for him in that regard even if they were enemies.
Part of her felt like some kind of vulture, circling a dying beast and eagerly waiting to pick at the carcass.
Still, she could not help it. They were at war, and every advantage needed to be seized.
Hopefully, he isn’t thinkin’ the same thing about havin’ me here and defenseless, she thought anxiously.
It was a bit strange the way he’d been looking at her ever since she’d stormed into the hall. If he were another man—and this was another circumstance—she’d almost have sworn he was attracted to her.
But no, that couldn’t have been it. No doubt he was simply pleased with himself at having her at a disadvantage, and she had mistaken his expression.
Now, though, his face appeared genuinely shocked and concerned as he gazed down at the scrap of tartan on the floor between them.
“What on earth is that supposed to be?” he asked. “And what should it mean tae me?”
“What does it look like?” she demanded hotly, putting her hands on her hips.
Gareth rose from the great chair that stood above the rest of the room, and as he stepped down and walked over to the shred of cloth, Pelna found that she couldn’t help but admire his form.
His movements were lithe and nimble like a dancer’s, which belied his wide-shouldered and muscular frame.
With such grace and power combined in a single body, she had no doubt he was a formidable warrior.
And perhaps a formidable lover as well.
Where the devil did that foolish thought come from? she scolded herself. I did not come here tae admire his good looks but tae accuse him of murder! He is my enemy, fer goodness’ sake!
She tried to tell herself that this notion must have only sprung into her mind because she had come here expecting to find herself face-to-face with the old tyrant Laird Fredric, not his young and most attractive son.
She hadn’t been prepared for how fair his features would be, that was certain.
They had only met once, long ago, when she had been far too young to form any real impression of him.
His people have killed mine by the hundreds, she told herself firmly. I must keep that in mind during my dealings with him.
Gareth bent down, picked up the tartan, and examined it closely.
“It appears tae be ours,” he said with a confused frown, “though that certainly doesn’t seem tae provide many answers.”
“Oh nay?”
She felt her temper rising again, and she did all she could to control it, but when the thought of poor dead Bran rose in her mind, she felt her anger flare up like an unruly forge.
“When it was discovered next tae the corpse of one of our farmers, it provided us with answer enough as tae who killed him!”
“What?” Gareth appeared genuinely puzzled and alarmed, which was not the reaction she had expected from him.
Pelna was becoming less sure of herself by the moment.
“Ye heard me! The man was nay soldier! He was a helpless innocent. He hadn’t trespassed on yer lands, and yer people cut his throat fer no reason at all! Do ye deny it?”
“Of course I bloody deny it!” Gareth shot back. “Why would any of my people commit such a useless and dishonorable act?”
“Ye tell me,” she countered, “fer clearly, they have. This is evidence of it.”
He glared at her. “Lady Pelna, yer clan and mine have been at war since the both of us were children. I should say by this point, we’ve come tae ken each other quite well, as enemies do.
When have we ever done anything like this?
When have we ever taken any life, except in the heat of battle?
That is our way. Surely ye are confident in this, else ye would not have risked yer own safety by comin’ here as ye have. ”
Pelna faltered slightly, finding herself with no satisfactory answer to this.
Still, she could not afford to lose face in front of him, having come all this way and stated her grievance so bluntly.
She refused to be perceived by him as weak, gullible, or stupid.
She had come here from a position of strength and fearlessness, and she intended to leave the same way.
“We have only ever dealt with yer father as laird of this clan,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Fer all I ken, now that ye sit in his chair, ye have chosen tae cast his honorable code of conduct aside and fight unfairly. Perhaps in doing so, ye feel ye can succeed where he has failed in terms of winnin’ the war. ”
“I assure ye, my lady, nothing could be further from the truth. I am temporarily substitutin’ fer him during his illness, and I have done nothing in his stead that he would not approve of.
He is still the leader of this clan, nae I.
And ye have a great deal of nerve, speakin’ tae me of honor and decency when ye are sister tae a known assassin who strikes like a snake in the grass rather than engagin’ in open combat like a real man.
Tae say nothing of yer other brother, the debauched simpleton and confirmed tavern-dweller. ”
“I came here tae hear the truth from ye,” she hissed, “yet it seems ye have chosen nae te only order the reprehensible murder of one of our clansmen but tae compound yer dishonor by hidin’ it behind lies!”
“Have a care,” he replied in a dangerous tone.
“I have admitted ye and listened tae ye as a courtesy even though, as I said, ye chose tae come here unannounced. So far, I have been exceedingly polite despite yer foul demeanor. That can change. Now, as fer yer accusation, I say again, I did not order this. Either one of my people did this without my knowledge or approval, in which case, I shall make the necessary inquiries tae determine that—”
“Ye expect me tae believe ye will investigate this on yer own?” She laughed derisively. “I should take yer word that ye will get tae the bottom of it, is that it? Do ye truly think me tae be so foolish and trustin’ as that?”
He scowled at her stonily for a moment, then continued as though she had not spoken.
“Or someone has planted this evidence fer ye tae find in order tae provoke this reaction from ye and pit us against each other. Which, frankly, seems tae be the more likely option. Or had that nae occurred tae ye?”
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” she challenged, though now that he had suggested it, the possibility gnawed at her somewhat. What if he was right? What if all of this had been for nothing, and she had been so easily fooled?
“The Sinclairs spring readily tae mind,” Gareth answered easily.
“The more they can set us at each other’s throats, the more they can exploit the conflict tae their advantage, wouldn’t ye say?
It would be simplicity itself fer one of them tae cut the poor man’s throat and put a fragment of our tartan in his hand as though he’d ripped it free himself during the struggle. ”
“It was pointless fer me tae come here, I see that now,” Pelna retorted. “I will get nay honest answers from ye.”
“Why would I lie?” He spread his arms expansively.
“If we had done this tae threaten and intimidate ye, what purpose would be served by denyin’ it now?
We are already at war. We would simply admit tae it and insist that we will continue tae prey upon yer farmers until ye cease all hostilities against us and come tae some agreement.
However, we are both aware that such a tactic would be utterly useless.
It would only strengthen yer resolve against us.
Make ye all the more determined tae defeat us. Would it not?”
Inwardly, Pelna had to admit that he had a point. Outwardly, though, she would not give him the satisfaction. Instead, she merely squared her jaw defiantly.
“Keep yer stubborn silence if it pleases ye,” he went on dismissively, “but ye ken I’m right.
Nevertheless, it appears as though ye were correct in saying that ye wasted a journey here.
More’s the pity, fer if our clans could only put aside our hatred fer each other and work toward the common goal of defeatin’ the Sinclairs, we would surely triumph in that endeavor.
And perhaps even form a lasting peace. I had hoped ye’d come here tae make such overtures. Ye may imagine my disappointment.”
“Ye will regret what ye have done, I promise ye that.” Pelna turned to leave.
“It seems I will regret what someone else has done,” Gareth said ruefully. “And Lady Pelna, one final word before ye depart?”
She stopped in her tracks and turned, practically trembling with rage.
“If there is tae be any hope of peace between our people,” he said, “it will fall tae us, the descendants of our current lairds, tae find it. I urge ye tae bear that in mind going forward and tae relate the message tae yer brothers as well upon yer return home. This meeting has not been an auspicious beginnin’ in that regard, and I would see an end tae the bloodshed in our lifetime, if possible. ”
Pelna refused to answer. She simply stalked out of the room, followed by her escorts.
Although that had been the final audience of the day, Gareth sat for a long while in deep thought. It had gone poorly, that was sure enough, and the notion of leaving things as they were troubled him, especially as he continued to stare down at the fragment of tartan in his hand.
There was no denying it had come from a member of his clan.
And if Pelna had felt compelled to travel all this way to accuse him, then he had no reason to doubt her version of events.
Clearly, someone had put the piece of cloth in the dead man’s hand, hoping to stoke greater hostilities between the McDaughs and the Wallaces.
But who? And for what purpose?
The Sinclairs were the obvious enough answer, as he had previously stated, not that she’d believed him.
Even so, confronting the Sinclairs about it would surely lead to nothing.
If they had planted it to implicate the McDaughs, then why would they admit to such a thing when pressed?
Appealing to them for answers would be futile.
“Master Gareth?” the guardsman at the door inquired. “Shall I tell Laird Fredric that ye intend tae go up tae consult with him about the matters of the day? I imagine this last audience would interest him in particular.”
Gareth shook his head. “Nay. Prepare my horse at once.”
His business with Pelna was clearly not concluded, he decided. He could not simply let her return to her home, believing him to be duplicitous. If all of this was some plot by the Sinclairs, then that would be playing right into their hands.
He was damned if he’d allow that to happen.