Chapter 8
There were a dozen men in the room. Creighton Armstrong, Connor Sinclair, Liam, four warriors, and the five men who had ridden from the outer territory. It was a little crowded, but no one seemed to mind. All eyes were on Gordon.
“‘Tis been a long time, Gordon,” Creighton said as he grasped the man’s arm. “I am glad to see ye although I suspect that ‘tis not under happy circumstances.”
“Ye havenae been to my side of the clan in some time. Are ye getting old, m’Laird?” He asked half-heartedly.
“Careful. I see some grays in yer hair as well,” Creighton growled before he released him. “Ye didnae come alone.”
“Nay, I wanted to, but the others were convinced that ‘tis not safe.”
“Not safe to travel through Armstrong lands?” Creighton’s tone was no longer teasing. He was thoroughly offended that one of his own would feel unsafe traveling on his land.
Liam felt the same.
“My concern, m’laird, is that we didnae leave enough hands behind. We appreciate the recent guards that ye sent, but we know they are preparing to return to the keep soon.” Gordon sighed. “We need support.”
“More fires?”
“Nay, but the food in our storehouse has gone bad. Salted goods soured. Prepped grains turned to mush. Fruits and vegetables so rotten ye would think they’d been stored for years instead of weeks.
We’ve nothing but what I’ve hunted. While I am here, I am hoping that the guards will hunt in my place. ”
Liam stiffened. “Of course the guards will hunt. Why would they not?”
Gordon narrowed his eyes. “Some of them are falling prey to the same fears that are circling the rest of the village. There is a monster in the woods.”
“Monster,” Creighton’s eyes shot to Liam, but Liam schooled his features. Inside, he wanted to roar.
“Aye. More than a handful of villagers are talking about returning with the guards and settling closer to the keep,” Godron said softly.
Creighton’s eyes flared. “They think I cannae protect them!”
“They dinnae think anyone can.” Gordon reddened and took a deep breath. “They are speaking of gods of old.”
Liam frowned. Gods of old? “I dinnae understand?—”
“Punishment,” Gordon snarled. “They fear the fae is punishing the land. For what, I cannae say, but they are going to leave.”
No one said anything, so Liam stepped forward. “If they leave, it doesnae mean we cannae protect our land. There are other parts of our clan that are uninhabited.” He was trying to talk down his father, who was so purple in the face that Liam feared he would blow.
“I will not leave my people unprotected, living in fear of nonexistent faes,” Creighton snarled. “Fergus, find rooms for our men. Make sure they are fed and rested.”
“M’Laird—” Gordon started.
“I know that ye rode hard here to bring me the news. Rest assured, I will take care of things. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we will leave.”
The men filed out. Creighton waved his guards out as well. When the door closed, the laird took several deep breaths and leveled a look at Liam. “Ye think this is the fault of Clan Gibson.”
“I would like to say aye, but I dinnae know how they could be connected to this. However, I do know that if he learns of what is happening, he will take advantage.”
“So the villagers need to stay. They need to feel safe. They need to be safe,” Creighton looked at Connor. “I appreciate yer support, my friend, but ‘tis probably time for ye to leave.”
Connor nodded. “I will leave a dozen guards. Take some to help protect yer territory. Leave some to race to me and the other alliance clans to support ye. Clan Gibson will stand no chance against us all.”
But Gibson didn’t need to wage war on Armstrong. He just needed to prove that Creighton couldn’t protect his people.
He was responsible for it. For the fires. The monster. The storehouse. Liam didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was responsible. Liam was certain of it.
It was underhanded and sneaky.
And far more intelligent than he would even give Ballach Gibson credit for.
“Ye cannae go,” Liam told his father. “If what we are thinking is right, then we are on the verge of war. Ye cannae leave the keep. I will go.”
For a second, Liam feared his father would refuse him. He’d been wanting to go for weeks, but now it was no longer a want. It was a need. Now was the time to see if his father really was keeping him here to bond with Jean or if there was another reason his father didn’t want him to go.
Could it be that his father had lost faith in him?
“Aye, you will go,” Creighton agreed. “Connor, will ye leave us for a moment?”
Connor left, but not without clapping Liam on the back with a grim grin. The door closed behind him, and Creighton stared at his son. “Ye’ve been angry with me.”
Liam didn’t say anything, and Creighton sighed. “The reason I wanted ye to stay?—”
“Nay,” Liam shook his head and held up his hand. “I know what ye are going to say. Ye havenae been subtle.”
The fact that his father looked surprised made Liam chuckle. “Aye. I know what ye and the Sinclairs want. I know what ye have been doing, but I am not here to discuss that.”
His father looked pained. “Are ye sure? They are leaving soon.”
“Aye. I am sure. We have more pressing matters.”
“When ye were a boy, it was easy to see everything that ye were thinking. Ye would come to me, in all seriousness, to confess something I’d known for days because I could see it all over yer face. Now, ‘tis not so easy,” Creighton said softly.
“When I know what it is I want to say, I say it.”
“Hmm. The other reason I’ve kept ye here was because I didnae think ye were ready. The death of that woman haunted ye. Still haunts ye. Ye didnae want to return to protect anyone. Ye only wanted answers.”
Liam opened his mouth to deny it, but his father was right. Liam wanted to make things right. To prove to himself that he was still fit to lead.
“Do ye think that has changed, or are ye simply sending me because there is no one else?”
“I have never believed in anyone as much as I believe in ye, Liam. There was a time when ye believed in yerself as well. I would like to see that in ye again.”
“I willnae let ye down.”
Creighton looked like he was going to say something else, but he just nodded his head. “Tonight, we will speak with Gordon and gather the supplies ye need to take with ye. Food and weapons. Ye will have half a dozen Sinclair guards and half a dozen of our men. If the threat becomes more active…”
His voice trailed off, and Liam had a stunning realization. His father had never expected it to get this far. He had never even considered it. Was it because things were so peaceful that he couldn’t even conceive of war?
“We are prepared,” Liam told his father. “The alliance is still strong. Clan Gibson doesnae stand a chance.”
“If the threat becomes more active,” Creighton repeated. “If this is Gibson’s doing...”
“I willnae fail ye, father. I swear it.”