Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“We do sympathize with yer position, me Laird,” Allistair MacSween assured Leo.
Leo observed the long-fingered hands of his cousin and clan advisor drumming on the table and wondered whether Allistair was conscious of it or not.
It was rare to see his cousin on edge. Yet, during this entire discussion, this trap and conspiracy, he had been jumpy and jittery. It was truly out of character.
“How can ye sympathize with me position?” Leo threw back. “None of ye have ever been in me position.”
Laird Leo MacSween did not appreciate having the entire council descend upon him without warning like this. He certainly did not appreciate their conspiring against him as they had, despite their universal insistence that they had done no such thing.
Conspire? Yes, Leo had used and meant that word, much to the chagrin of the council members. It so perfectly described their little ambush that it propelled him into a decision he had no intention of making.
“It’s just that we all understand how difficult it can be to make a choice like this,” Allistair returned. “Tyler, can ye nae make him see some sense?”
He gestured to Leo’s man-at-arms, standing at Leo’s right hand with an unsympathetic expression on his face.
Tyler too knew this ambush for what it was and Leo watched with mild amusement as his loyal friend and supporter placed a hand over his own mouth with deliberate comic timing and shook his head briskly.
“Ye cannae think I am important enough to speak on such matters as these,” Tyler answered in muffled tones, clicking his heels together in a pantomime of Allistair’s own mannerisms. “Ye ken better than I, Allistair MacSween, that a lowly man-at-arms hasnae the brains for that.”
A guttural laugh escaped Leo’s lips, the tension in his jaw and shoulders relaxing at Tyler’s mocking playacting.
He had seen Allistair disrespect his man-at-arms too many times to have any sympathy of his own for his cousin.
Tyler was a good man who had stood at his laird’s side through time and tragedy and Leo gave him no reprimand despite the outrage on his cousin’s face.
Around the table, the other councilmen continued to regard Leo expectantly, and he looked back at them with a dark gaze of his own.
Had they really thought Tyler would change me mind? They ought to ken he isnae the type to bend to their whims.
Tyler’s loyalty was well-known and valued by Leo as much as the man’s sharp wits and humor, which Leo often joked were the main reason he kept him around.
Allistair had never been a fan of Tyler’s quips and had always been too thin-skinned to shrug off mockery, even in jest. In his cousin’s indignant expression, Leo perceived the same sniveling lad he had grown up with.
As a man, Allistair might use his piercing blue eyes, to outstare weaker men, but Leo knew the mind behind those eyes and was never influenced. His cousin always had some scheme or other, largely for his own benefit.
“None of ye have made clear what ye think is so important here,” Leo pointed out, his almost-black eyes locking onto Allistair's.
“Why the need to name a successor? Why bring forth an heir now? What have ye all seen in the witch’s cauldron to make ye believe that me time on this earth is comin' to an end?”
“’Tis simply a matter of strategic thinkin', Leo,” Allistair explained, somewhat pompously. “There are books I’ve read on strategy, written for kings and emperors and…”
“I have a library of me own, Allistair, and we’re all too old for tutorin' at this table,” Leo shut his cousin down.
He was well aware that Allistair considered himself highly cultured and educated through being schooled in Edinburgh.
In contrast, he thought Leo’s side of the family carried a slow and brutish taint in their bloodline.
Well, what Allistair chose to believe was his own concern, but Leo would not brook open disrespect.
“This is quite a strategic matter, me Laird,” offered Jonah, a councilman with a bushy red beard and florid complexion, speaking hesitantly but apparently agreeing with Allistair, much to Leo’s annoyance.
Further murmurs of agreement followed this statement from around the table, but they quickly died at one baleful look from Leo.
“Ye prefer nae to marry again?” Allistair spoke up yet again, evidently not as easily subdued as the others on the council.
“I prefer to live as I choose without unwarranted interference and disruption from this council.”
“Ye cannae understand the risks of havin' nay heir or successor, me Laird,” Leo’s cousin continued to press, his expression and tone showing that he considered Leo’s stance ridiculous. “If ye did…”
Before Allistair could say more, Leo rose from his chair abruptly and stepped towards his cousin. Allistair rose too and faced him toe to toe. Although dark-haired Leo was a head taller and significantly broader than fair-haired Allistair, the smaller man barely flinched until Leo spoke.
“I suggest ye daenae finish that sentence, Cousin,” he growled. "Not unless ye intend to forfeit yer place on me council.”
At this, Allistair took a step back and briefly dropped his eyes. Leo studied the man and noted something that bothered him, more than it would if he had seen it in anyone else.
Allistair is too sure of himself. He fears me less than he should.
Leo could be a brute with those who crossed him; he was in no position to argue that fact.
He was also smarter than Allistair and his smooth-talking kind gave him credit for.
Leo would never underestimate his slippery cousin as Allistair underestimated him.
He knew that the fair-haired aristocratic face hid the workings of devious soul.
Those azure eyes raised themselves again and met Leo’s once again.
“As an adviser to the laird, I must advise ye,” Allistair said. “Ye wouldnae have us all only nod and shake our heads in time with yer speech, would ye?”
The other councilmen were now squirming in their seats, and shifting their feet in an uncomfortable dance.
Leo suspected none of them would dare to cross him alone, but as a group, and inspired by his cousin, was another matter.
Well, he was the laird and he had no intention of staying quiet while his council pushed and prodded and demanded an unnecessary decision.
“Then advise me,” Leo challenged him. “Tell me what I’ve never heard before. Tell me why this matters now.”
“It has always mattered, me Laird,” Allistair argued. “The waitin' has been long enough now. Too long. That is why we are here today. That is why we must all now think strategically about this matter.”
The councilmen nodded along like puppets, most not daring to speak up themselves in the face of Leo’s opposition.
“Ye ken it’s true, Leo,” Allistair said with a smile, his lips curling up like an animal’s, and nothing of goodwill reaching his eyes. “Ye ken that there is reason and practicality to consider here.”
Leo looked to Tyler and saw only compassion. He was a man-at-arms, not an adviser. Tyler would stand beside his laird, no matter what, but Leo could not expect him to oppose the council any more than the council could expect Tyler to oppose Leo.
Leo did ken the truth of some of Allistair’s claims. The clan had been growing ever uneasier with his unmarried state, as well as the council. The laird might rule the actions of his men but he could not change hearts and minds by force of will.
Allistair sat back down at the table as though deferring to Leo’s authority, but then addressed the councilmen as he were a preacher speaking from a pulpit.
“Seven years have passed since our great laird was struck by tragedy. His fears are understandable. Who among us would not feel the same after losin' a wife in such circumstances?”
“Daenae speak of me tragedy, Cousin,” Leo snapped, turning and slamming a fist on the table beside Allistair. “Ye ken nothin' of it. Daenae speak either of me as though I’m nae here.”
Allistair had jumped with fright at this outburst, as any man would have done, but recovered himself quickly.
“I only mean that we all ken that Mhairi’s death is what keeps ye from takin' another wife, and getting' an heir. But ye must look past that now. The clan needs stability. It needs to ken who will rule here in twenty years, nae just tomorrow.”
More murmurs of agreement rose from the other councilmen and Leo’s jaw clenched again. His stomach churned with all the bile and acid that had simmered bitterly within him for seven years. How many of these men had watched a wife bleed to death on the birthing bed after two days of agony?
It was more than just the tragedy of Mhairi’s death that concerned him too. There was also wee Effie, the child Leo loved more than life itself. Finding a good stepmother would be harder than finding a good wife. Marrying a woman who might mistreat or mishandle his child was unthinkable.
“Ye saw nothin' of me mournin', Allistair,” Leo said roughly. “Ye ken nothin' of me loss. Daenae speak as if ye ken the inner workin's of me mind.”
“We all saw yer mournin' and we all mourned with ye,” sighed Allistair, again appealing to the council men and getting the nods and murmurs of support that he sought. “As I say, it was a tragedy, and we really do understand, but still, the needs of the clan must come first…”
Despite the distraction of grief and annoyance, Leo began to perceive that Allistair was talking too much.
Why did he carry on, without reaching any definite conclusion?
It was almost as though he was dragging out this gathering, keeping them all at the same point in the conversation, waiting for something… but waiting for what?
Suddenly, fast-approaching footsteps sounded down the hallway, and all eyes were on the doors of the council chamber before it opened.
“I bring a message from the elders, for the laird,” said the lad, proffering a parchment in Leo’s direction with a respectful bow.
Leo stood stiffly, not reaching for the rolled parchment. Had Allistair been waiting for this? Was it only another part of the ambush?
“Shall I read it for ye, me laird?” offered his cousin’s too-smooth voice.
“Nay,” Leo snapped. “I can read me own messages."
Snatching the parchment from the messenger’s hands, Leo read it and then looked around the room with a face full of thunder.
“Ye want to hear what the elders have to say, I expect,” he addressed them. “Or do ye already ken?”
“I daenae ken,” replied Allistair with innocent eyes. “Do read it to us, me laird.”
Briefly, Leo was tempted to seize his cousin’s collar and make him eat the damned message, but that was beneath his dignity. Instead, he held the parchment aloft and spoke to the councilmen with anger.
“The elders have issued an order that the laird cannot refuse,” Leo told them through gritted teeth.
“Plainly, they too believe I have spent too long without an heir. I am therefore ordered either to find a wife within the month, and get an heir within a year, or else a successor will be named forthwith.”
Completing this announcement, Leo rolled the parchment back up and tossed it across the table to Allistair.
“Yers, I believe. Did ye dictate it yerself?”
His cousin regarded him with injured eyes but then smiled again his animal smile that raised hairs on the back of the neck.
“It is settled, then?” Jonah stated uncertainty.
“It is settled,” Allistair repeated in confirmation.
A cheer rose among the councilmen, regardless of Leo’s scowls.
They had come here to force his hand and get what they wanted.
Now, it had been done so thoroughly that the conversation was over.
Leo was apparently to be married, and everything else be damned.
Allistair looked like the cat that got the cream.
“Do we have yer agreement too, me laird?” asked Allistair, pretending a deference Leo did not believe his cousin felt.
“I willnae cross the elders,” Leo replied. “But the decree doesnae name a wife. I am free to choose on me own.”
“Then do so quickly, me Laird,” Allistair urged. “Yer time is runnin' out. Within a month, remember.”
Yes, within a month, or the elders would name a successor for him.
Who might that successor be then? Evidently, Allistair imagined it would be him.
The thought of such a man one day leading the Clan MacSween infuriated Leo almost beyond bearing.
He would damned well live forever only to thwart his cousin’s ambitions.
Letting out a low growl of rage, Leo marched out of the chamber, Tyler hot on his heels. Allistair and the clan council thought they had forced their laird’s hand today, but they hadn’t won yet, even if they had recruited the powerful elders to their cause.
While not as naturally devious as his cousin, Leo had a creative mind and boundless determination. There must be a loophole or escape route somewhere in the elders’ decree. He just had to find it – within the month…