Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The pounding on the door came too early, dragging Tòrr from the first decent sleep he'd had in days. Beside him, Liliane stirred, her hair spread across his chest where she'd nestled during the night.
"What is it?" he called out, his voice rough with sleep and irritation at being disturbed.
"It's Daemon. I need tae speak with ye. Now."
The urgency in his brother's voice cut through the fog of sleep immediately. Tòrr carefully extracted himself from Liliane's warmth, pressing a kiss to her temple when she murmured in protest.
"Stay here," he said softly. "Sleep."
She nodded drowsily, already drifting back to sleep. He watched her for a moment, her face peaceful, so different from the guarded woman she was when awake, then forced himself to move.
He dressed quickly, pulling on trousers and a shirt, not bothering with his boots before opening the door just wide enough to slip through. Daemon stood in the corridor, still dusty from travel, his expression grim.
"This better be important," Tòrr said, closing the door quietly behind him.
"It is. Michael's waitin' in the library." Daemon's jaw was tight. "Ye need tae hear this."
He took long enough to pull on a pair of boots before the two walked in silence through the pre-dawn halls, their footsteps echoing off stone.
The keep was just beginning to stir, servants moving through corridors with candles, guards changing watch.
But the library was empty save for Michael, who stood by the window staring out at the lightening sky.
"Well?" Tòrr demanded, moving to the sideboard to pour himself water. His body still ached with unfulfilled desire from last night, and his mood wasn't improved by being pulled from Liliane's warmth. "What's so urgent it couldnae wait until breakfast?"
"The men ye spotted with Liliane by the cliffs. Michael told me about them. They werenae scouts," Daemon said without preamble.
Tòrr's hand stilled on the pitcher. "What were they?"
"An advance party. Sent tae gather information, find weaknesses in our defenses.
" Daemon moved to the map table, spreading out several sheets of parchment.
"When I was returnin' from Munro lands, we saw them.
Same men, same plaids. They were movin' through the forest parallel tae our borders, stayin' just out of sight but clearly watchin' the keep. That is what I was tryin’ tae tell ye at the festival.
I didnae mention it after the attack on Liliane as that was our priority.
And there havenae been anymore sightings until now. "
"How many?"
"At least a dozen that we could count. Could be more hidden deeper in the woods." Michael turned from the window, his expression matching Daemon's grim demeanor. "They're organized, disciplined. This isnae some hasty revenge attempt. This is planned."
Tòrr set down the water untouched, all trace of sleep vanishing as his mind shifted into the cold calculation of strategy. "Ye're certain they're Munro's men?"
"Saw the colors when they moved through a clearin’. Nay question about it." Daemon tapped the map. "They're camped here, about three miles from our eastern border. Close enough tae watch our movements but far enough tae retreat if discovered."
"Fer how long have they been there, dae ye think?"
"Days, at least. Maybe since before the festival.
" Daemon's voice hardened. "The three that attacked Liliane at the inn?
They were probably part of that group. We looked around the camp while they were away and they had supplies fer at least a dozen men, plus there were tracks leadin' back toward Munro lands. "
Tòrr's hands clenched into fists on the table. "So there are still men out there. Men sent by Munro tae take me wife."
"Aye. And they'll try again." Michael moved to stand beside him. "The festival was only their first attempt. It failed. But they're still here, still waitin'. Which means Munro's given them orders tae keep tryin' until they succeed."
"Or until we kill them all." Tòrr's voice was flat, dangerous. "Which we will."
"We need tae flush them out," Daemon said. "Root them out of whatever holes they're hidin' in and eliminate the threat entirely. But we need tae dae it carefully. If we just send patrols crashin' through the forest, they'll scatter. Disappear back tae Munro lands and regroup."
"Then we dinnae, we hunt." Tòrr studied the map, his mind already working through possibilities. "How many men did ye bring back with ye?"
"Five. All good trackers, experienced fighters." Daemon met his eyes. "But we need more. We need tae coordinate search parties across all the areas they might be hidin', and we need tae dae it without alarmin' the clan or lettin' these bastards ken we're on tae them."
"How dae ye suggest we dae that?" Michael asked. "We cannae exactly send out huntin’ parties without people noticin'."
"We tell them the truth. Partly." Tòrr's voice carried the weight of command now, all traces of the man who'd held Liliane the night before replaced by the laird who'd led his clan for a decade.
"We say there've been reports of bandits near the borders.
That we're increasin' patrols tae ensure the clan's safety.
Nay need tae mention Munro specifically or reveal that they're after Liliane. "
"The Council will need tae approve any major deployment," Michael pointed out.
"Then we call a council meetin’. This afternoon." Tòrr's jaw set. "Malcolm and Gregor will complain about the expense, but they'll approve it. They ken the threat Munro poses, even if they dinnae ken the full extent."
"And Liliane?" Daemon asked carefully.
"She kens about the men, she saw them another time. When we rode tae the cliffs and when she was playing outside of the keep with our sisters." Tòrr's expression darkened. "She reported it tae me immediately, but I thought they were just scouts. Didnae realize they were part of a larger force."
"She needs tae stay within the keep walls," Michael said firmly. "Nay more rides out, nay more trips tae the village. Nae until we've cleared every last one of those bastards from our lands."
"She'll hate that, she's already feelin' trapped. Confined. This will only make it worse." But Tòrr knew his brother was right.
"Better trapped and alive than free and dead," Daemon said bluntly. "Munro's clearly nae givin' up. He wants her back, and he's willin' tae risk open conflict tae get her."
"Which is exactly why we need tae end this." Tòrr's voice hardened further. "We find every man he's sent. We eliminate them. And then we send Munro a message he cannae ignore, that me wife is mine, and anyone who tries tae take her dies."
"That's as good as declarin' war," Michael warned.
"Is it? Because from where I'm standin', Munro's the one who started this war.
When he sent men tae abduct me wife from a clan gatherin'.
When he stationed scouts on me borders. When he made it clear he'll keep comin' until he either gets what he wants or we stop him permanently.
And that is after I played the game with his own rules from the beginning.
" Tòrr met his brothers' eyes, letting them see the cold fury there. "I'm just endin' it."
Silence fell over the library. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink.
"How dae ye want tae structure the search parties?" Daemon asked finally, accepting Tòrr's decision without question.
"Six groups of five men each. Experienced fighters, preferably those who ken the lands well.
" Tòrr traced routes on the map with his finger.
"We start at their known camp, and work outward in a grid pattern.
Any man found wearin' Munro colors or admittin' tae workin' fer him gets questioned.
Once we've learned what we need, they're eliminated. "
"Nay prisoners?" Michael's tone was neutral, but his eyes held approval.
"Nay prisoners. They came here tae kidnap me wife from her own home.
They forfeit any right tae mercy the moment they stepped ontae MacDonald land with that intent.
" Tòrr's voice was ice. "I want it understood by every man we send out, these arenae bandits tae be captured and tried.
They're invaders. Enemies. And we deal with enemies permanently. "
"The men will understand," Daemon said. "Especially once they ken these bastards attacked Lady MacDonald at the festival. There's nay sympathy fer that."
"Good. Then spread the word carefully. I want captains assembled in the great hall within the hour.
We'll brief them, coordinate the search pattern, and have the first parties out by midday.
" Tòrr rolled up the map with sharp, decisive movements.
"Daemon, ye'll lead the eastern search. Michael, take the western approach.
I'll coordinate from here and lead the party that searches the areas closest tae the keep. "
"Ye should stay at the keep," Michael protested. "Let us handle the search while ye protect Liliane."
"I'll be daein' both. The keep is well-defended, and I'll make sure she stays within the walls." Tòrr's tone allowed no argument. "But I'll nae sit idle while me men hunt on me behalf. These bastards came fer me wife, I'll be part of the response."
His brothers exchanged glances but didn't argue further. They knew that tone, that set to his jaw. Their laird had made his decision, and nothing would change it.
Daemon moved toward the door. "I'll gather the captains. Have them assembled within the hour, as ye said."
"And I'll start coordinatin' the search grids," Michael added. "Make sure we dinnae have any gaps in coverage."
"Good. Both of ye, go.”
After his brothers left, Tòrr stood alone in the library for a long moment, staring at the map on the table. Somewhere out in those forests, men were hiding. Waiting. Planning another attempt to take Liliane from him.
The rage that thought provoked was cold and calculating rather than hot and impulsive. He'd learned long ago that fury was useless unless channeled into action. And he had plenty of action planned.
By nightfall, the first search parties would be combing the forests. Within days, every man Munro had sent would be dead or fled back across the borders. And if any of them resisted, if any tried to fight... well, they'd learn what happened to those who threatened a MacDonald wife.