Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) (17 page)

Abhainn’s knuckles whitened as he grasped his dagger’s hilt. “Aye, ‘twas me good enough. And for that ye’d think I’d receive a farewell when ye abandoned us.”

Torra cringed at the words and though Colin could not show it, she knew he did as well.

“So ye didnae believe the words my Da spoke on his deathbed?” Colin said.

“Bloody fool,” Iosbail muttered, sword drawn. “Let’s be done with this and move on, aye?”

“Nay.” Colin blocked her path when she made to move forward.

Naturally, her actions caused all surrounding MacLeods to raise their weapons.

Colin breathed deeply though his nose and shook his head. “I dinnae know what my Da told ye in the end, but I am here now to give ye only truth. Allow me and mine entrance so that I might share.”

Abhainn almost seemed aghast at Colin’s request. “Why should we do such a thing when yer so long gone from us?”

An odd calm overtook Torra as she watched the less-than-convinced face of Abhainn. Colin had sacrificed so much for her and the MacLomains. He didn’t deserve such treatment from his own clan, from a man who was obviously there when he was but a wee bairn.

She knew what she had to do.

Before Abhainn could utter another word, she stepped forward and spoke.

“Ye should do such because I love yer laird.” Shoulders back, she continued. “I am Torra MacLomain, sister to Laird Colin MacLomain.” She paused, waiting for her words to sink in before she declared loud and clear…

“And
I
am the MacLomain dragon.”

There was fear and there was fury.

And Colin MacLeod had never felt both so thoroughly in his life.

Murmurs resounded far and wide as Abhainn contemplated Torra. Colin was furious that a man he once cared so much for led this little rebellion. And he was fearful for his lass that she put herself at such risk to help him.

When Colin made to speak, Abhainn held up his hand and shook his head sharply, eyes never leaving Torra. “How do I know ye are who ye say ye are?”

“Ye dinnae,” Colin bit out and put a fist against his chest. “Ye look at me and recognize me as yer chieftain as my Da requested.”

“Do I now?” Abhainn said. “When a lass just declared she’s the dragon rumored to haunt the north?”

It could not be this way.

Colin knew Torra would do anything to save him and her clan even if it meant shifting into a dragon. But hell if he’d let her. When the time came that she had to embrace her other half, it would be up against Keir Hamilton.

No sooner.

Meanwhile, it seemed actions need speak louder than words.

He only had one choice and it best be convincing.

Abhainn knew of Colin’s gift with fire but not how much it had grown in the past four years beneath Keir Hamilton’s guidance. Colin shot a quick mental note to Grant and Torra that all duck away because he was coming fast and furious. Here’s hoping they had enough time to relay it to the others.

“Och, cannae ye feel her anger building?” Colin swung around and flung out his hands at Torra.

Horrified, she put up her arms to defend herself as his fire curled around her. When his magic met hers, he kept a smile hidden. She knew. With another quick snap of his wrist, fire curled out only to be snuffed immediately before Torra raised her hand in the air. Swooping, powerful, new flames came from her fingertips and engulfed.

They need not know she wasn’t
actually
shifting into the dragon.

Colin put an arm across his face and yelled to Abhainn. “Cover yerself until she’s calmed!”

Albhainn and the surrounding MacLeod warriors covered their faces. Some crouched. But Colin knew they peered out from behind their hands.

“Please, not now, lass.” He struggled to draw closer to Torra. “Dinnae unleash the beast. Not here.”

Torra released a mighty roar and flung up her other hand. This time all could clearly see the fiery face of a dragon in the flames curling around her. Colin was as shocked as the others as the dragon grew. Though she was certainly not shifting, the fire became not only a face but the entire beast as it wrapped around her.

Her magic had indeed grown.

Or better yet her confidence.

When the dragon roared from the flames, many ducked and gasped, some cried out. Even Abhainn appeared truly frightened. But it was important that they see more, that they witness their chieftain controlling the beast. So he continued to push into her fire, arms in the air as he cried, “Enough! No harm need come to these men.”

Torra’s flaming dragon reared up and peered down at him.

“Dinnae shift all the way,” he said. “These men are our allies.”

There was a long hesitation as she swung her crackling head and stared at all. Many nodded, eyes wide. At last, Torra again looked at Colin. The fire dwindled down and took the dragon with it until only the lass remained, smoke burning off her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “‘Twas truly hard to control. If not for ye I dinnae know what might have happened.”

“‘Tis all right, lass.” Colin pulled her into his arms and buried a small smile in her hair, whispering, “Well played, love.”

He held her that way for several long moments and stroked the back of her hair. Only when Abhainn approached did he slowly release her. He turned to the MacLeod who had once been first-in-command to his Da and saw a new level of respect. And whether or not he thought what happened concocted, there could be no doubt that Torra was who she said she was. It had been in the magic she used…in the dragon within. And Abhainn, though not overly powerful, was a wizard as well.

Abhainn did not say anything for a long stretch, just locked eyes with Colin. More than anything, he needed this man to back him. If he did, more than half the battle would be won.

Thank the gods when Abhainn at last gave a solid nod, held out his hand to Colin and said loud enough for all to hear. “Welcome, my Laird. ‘Tis good to have ye amongst yer clan once more.”

Colin did well to keep his fluctuating emotions in check when he took Abhainn’s hand. But it seemed he was not the only one fighting strong feelings. He swore the man’s eyes glistened when he pulled him in for a tight embrace. Abhainn had been so incredibly good to him over the years. It truly did his sore heart wonders to once more feel like the MacLeod he was, to know that his entire clan now accepted him as chieftain despite the past several years.

When Abhainn finally pulled away, he turned to the many MacLeod warriors now surrounding them. “‘Tis time to make welcome our rightful laird, aye?”

While Colin thought mayhap there might be at least a few murmurs of dissent, he was pleased to see he was wrong when the men cried, “Aye!”

Colin stepped forward and locked eyes with many before saying loud enough that it could be heard far and wide. “‘Tis good to be amongst my clan once more and thank ye for yer devotion.” He paused and let his praise sink in before continuing. “But ken this and ken it well. Those that travel with me this day are friends and now allies to the MacLeods. Let us share a dram of whiskey together in the Defiance so that I might share all, aye?”

Another loud round of  ‘ayes!’ broke from the crowd.

So it was that Colin took Torra’s hand and led his group into the courtyard. Though many MacLeods still eyed the MacLomain men warily, most were happy to see Colin and shook his hand in passing. Humbled, he stopped and shared words with many, reconnecting with old friends.

Colin even winked at their peddler. Though the flustered man’s face burned red, his worries were soon put to rest when his laird patted him on the back.

By the time they made it into the Defiance the sun had set and snow fell. Torches were lit all the way up the tall square building. A fire billowed in the center and pipes trilled.

His chest tightened when his eyes met Torra’s. This had been their place, the start of something powerful and unending. And though they couldn’t have known it at the time, it was the start of something that would at last put to rest hundreds upon hundreds of years of discontent betwixt their clans.

Though not all could fit, most of the MacLeods followed their new chieftain inside to hear what he had to say. Colin lightly brushed his lips over Torra’s and murmured close to her ear, “I will join you again soon.”

Torra smiled and nodded.

Empowered by the pride in her eyes, he urged Grant and Valan to join him before the fire so that they might see warriors from all three clans standing together unified. When the crowd settled and grew silent, Colin spoke.

“As all now know, four winters ago I defected from my clan and became head of Keir Hamilton’s warriors. What most dinnae know was that I did so with rage in my heart. Rage because I was leaving behind a clan I loved. But even as I love the MacLeods, I loved another just as deeply. Torra MacLomain. If I didnae go with Keir, he meant to savagely kill my lass.”

He let his words settle over the crowd before continuing. His eyes met not only the warriors but the MacLeod women amongst them. “And while many might wonder how I could turn from my clan to protect but one lass consider what ye might have been capable of for love. Your lass, your wife, your Ma, mayhap even your bairn.”

Many murmured and nodded, clearly considering his words.

“My years beneath the Hamilton’s rule made me far stronger. They made me realize how I would rule my clan if someday given the chance.” He again paused and scanned the crowd, expression grim. “Unlike Keir Hamilton, I willnae see my people go hungry nor will I see them mistreated in any way.”

Colin took a slow stroll, eyes mainly on the men now. “My warriors will always receive the best training so that they might protect their own. Ours will be an honorable clan even during wartime.” Now to say what needed most to be said. “I willnae tolerate what my Da allowed nor what I was unable to stop beneath the Hamilton’s control. There will be no more physical abuse of prisoners taken. There will be
no
more
raping of the enemy’s lasses. If such continues to happen, ye willnae like the consequences.”

None averted their eyes which told him what he knew all along of this particular band of warriors. They had yet to commit such acts. And though it would be reinforced when he once more arrived at his castle, for now it would travel via rumor and that was a good start.

Not keeping with reprimanding words long, he said, “Because of Torra MacLomain, we are now in a much-favored position. The MacLeods no longer fight alongside Keir Hamilton but against him. As most likely know, the Hamilton castle is currently under siege by the MacLomain clan as well as their allies. I have spoken with Chieftain MacLomain and we have forged a new alliance.”

“What of the Hamilton clan?” someone yelled out.

A sly grin came to Colin’s lips. “Allies as soon as we defeat Keir. After all, we have the best-kept secret in this war.” He paused for affect then clasped Valan’s hand and held it high. The fire flared behind them. “I give you Valan Hamilton, Keir’s only living son and next in line to be chieftain. Ally to the MacLeods and MacLomains, ‘twill be nothing left but peace once we defeat our enemy!”

Many gasped, several murmured, most grinned, some hooted and hollered their approval.

When the crowd quieted, Valan continued. “While ‘tis true I defected from my clan for many years, ‘tis also true that I did so because of my hatred for Keir. There is an unnatural evil about him that I, with your help, will see destroyed.”

“Will the Hamiltons follow ye though?” someone yelled.

“Aye.” Colin assured. This time he raised Grant’s hand in the air, making sure the fire flared even higher as his voice rose over the crowd. “For Keir Hamilton’s first-in-command and my good friend stand by our side. Not Grant MacLeod or even Grant Hamilton as some knew him but Grant MacLomain!”

It said much for Grant’s reputation when the shocked crowd soon released a hearty round of hoots, hollers, and applause. Even weapons were banged off shields. There could be no question that all those in attendance had long heard about the Hamilton clan’s love for Grant. While legalities were covered in having Valan alive and allied, all clearly thought that if Grant turned on Keir, so too would the Hamiltons.

The crowd once more quieted when Grant stepped forward, his eyes scanning and connecting with many. “Taken against my will as a bairn, I spent over fourteen winters beneath Keir Hamilton’s rule. During that time, I learned his ways better than most. There is little I dinnae ken about the laird and his evil ways. Because of what I witnessed over the long years at the Hamilton castle, because of the oppression of his people, I made it a point to love them well because their chieftain was incapable.”

Grant paused, allowing his words to settle over the crowd before he continued. “Four winters ago I first met Colin MacLeod. I didnae like him in the least.” The crowd murmured and Grant winked at Colin. “Because his skills in battle outmatched my own.”

This caused many smiles and nods of approval.

“He’s a MacLeod all right,” some murmured.

“Best of fighters we are,” others said.

Grant nodded and grinned. “Aye, so I soon learned. ‘Twas a year or so after that we set aside our need to best one another and formed an alliance.” Grant’s voice rose as he spoke to the clan. “I now call none closer a friend than your new chieftain and am proud to fight alongside him and call the MacLeods my much-welcomed allies!”

The crowd once more roared and banged their weapons.

Colin flung an arm around Grant’s shoulders and grinned. His friend well deserved this after so many years of hell beneath Keir’s rule. Not to mention, Grant was a damn good fighter and more honorable than most. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit of remorse, even nostalgia, as he realized this would likely be the last time he and his friend rallied others to battle.

But then a few years of peace and freedom would be wholly welcome.

It was long past time they had some wee bairns and taught their battling skills to another generation.

Speaking of wee bairns and a future of peace…

Colin left Torra where he had with good reason. Crossing to her, he took her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. He spoke loud enough for all to hear. “Almost five winters ago my lass stood in this verra spot when I first asked her to dance.” Emotion deepened his voice. “I’d never seen such a bonnie creature. So verra beautiful, kind and gentle.”

The room had grown incredibly quiet. Nothing but the spitting fire and wind whistling through the arrow slit windows could be heard. Many women put their hands over their hearts, knowing smiles on their faces.

Now he spoke not to the crowd but to Torra. “Though I thought such when outside, ‘tis impossible to describe how completely I fell in love with ye standing in this verra spot. That moment your hand first slid into mine. And though many years have passed without us being together, never once did ye leave my thoughts. I vow to always protect ye and if you’re set to fight alongside, I would forever be honored.” Lost in her tender gaze, he sunk to one knee. “Torra MacLomain, my wee bonnie lass, my mighty dragon, will ye marry me?”