The Highlander Series (42 page)

“Tell me what happened, lass.”

“He cut my dress,” she said, as she held up the tattered material of her skirts. “He threatened to cut the babe from my womb if I didn’t cooperate.”

Alaric stared at her in astonishment. “If he held a knife to your belly, how in God’s name did he wind up unconscious on the floor with your dagger in his belly?”

“I took a page from Ewan’s book,” she said primly.

Ewan raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Caelen.

“This I’ve got to hear,” Caelen muttered.

“I kneed him … down there. And well, I plunged my dagger into his belly at the same time. When he fell, I
wanted to make sure he didn’t escape, so I bashed him over the head with a pot.”

Alaric winced. “I don’t think he was going anywhere, lass.”

She shrugged. “ ’Tis the truth I wanted to kill him. He threatened my child.”

Caelen chuckled. “I don’t think Crispen or your other children will ever have to worry about coming to harm, Ewan. Your wife will single-handedly take on any threat to her young.”

Ewan pulled Mairin against his side and kissed the top of her head. “Are you all right, sweeting?”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

He took his hand away from her arm and frowned when he saw blood on it. “Then what is this?” he demanded.

She shrugged, remembering now that Diormid had cut her in the scuffle. “ ’Tis naught but a scratch, Laird. I will wash it later.”

“What’s to be done with Diormid, Laird?” Cormac asked from the doorway.

Ewan’s expression blackened, but then he glanced at Mairin, likely remembering her aversion to having Heath killed for his infraction.

“I think he should be fed to a pack of wild wolves,” Mairin muttered. “Perhaps tied between two trees and left to bleed to attract predators.”

Ewan and his brothers gaped at her in astonishment.

“Or we could simply drag him behind a horse for a few miles?” she asked hopefully.

Caelen died laughing. “Bloodthirsty lass. I love it! She’s fierce, Ewan. I like your wife very much.”

“You would,” Ewan muttered.

Ewan looked at his wife in exasperation. “I was going to suggest we kill him and get it over with since he’s not going to survive your dagger to the belly anyway.”

“ ’Tis too quick a death,” she said with a sniff. “I think he should be made to suffer.”

Ewan frowned and she relented with a sigh. “Oh, very well. Kill him quickly. But he’s not to be buried on McCabe land. You can feed his corpse to the buzzards, can’t you?”

Ewan shook his head and laughed at her hopeful tone. He gathered her in his arms and squeezed her until she couldn’t breathe.

“Aye, lass, we can feed his corpse to the predators. Will it make you feel better to imagine his eyeballs plucked from their sockets?”

Her stomach recoiled at the image and she put a hand to her mouth to staunch the urge to retch again. Then she glared up at her husband. “You did that apurpose!”

He grinned and then turned to his brothers. “See to his body. I’m taking my wife back to the hall.”

Mairin let Ewan guide her away but then she stopped and called back. “I’ll be wanting my dagger returned, Caelen.”

“Laird! Laird! The king approaches!”

Ewan dropped Mairin’s hand and hurried into the hall where Owain was shouting for him. The young man had obviously run the entire way, for he stood panting for breath as he frantically searched the hall for Ewan.

When he saw Ewan, he hurried over and once again repeated his announcement.

“Hold!” Ewan bit out. “Tell me all. How far is the king? Does he ride with his army?”

Before Owain could answer, another of Ewan’s soldiers ran into the hall. “Laird! McDonald rides through our gates!”

Ewan stalked toward the courtyard, Mairin on his heels. He got to the steps as Laird McDonald slid from his horse. Beyond the gates of the keep, what looked to be McDonald’s entire army spread out over the terrain.

“Ewan!” McDonald called. “My men brought news that the king’s army approaches.”

Not a moment after Laird McDonald’s pronouncement, the McDonald army parted to allow Laird McLauren to ride over the bridge and into the courtyard. In the distance, McLauren’s army gathered at the rear of McDonald’s men.

“Ewan,” McLauren greeted as he approached the two lairds. “I came as soon as I heard.”

Ewan looked at the two men in surprise. The sight of so many soldiers on horseback was an impressive sight, spreading as far as the eye could see.

“Do you realize that by your actions, you actively rebel against the crown? You’ll be branded outlaws,” Ewan said.

Laird McLauren scowled. “ ’Tis wrong what he did, Ewan. If he takes a man’s wife, what’s next? His lands? I stand beside you, as do my men.”

Laird McDonald nodded his agreement.

Ewan grasped the forearm of Laird McLauren and then turned to do the same to McDonald. Then he threw his fist in the air and gave a war cry that was picked up by his men and spread to the McDonalds and the McLaurens. Soon the hills surrounding the keep echoed with the sound of impending battle.

He turned to Mairin and took her hands in his. “I want you to take Crispen and remain behind the walls of the keep. Do not come out until I’ve summoned you. Promise me.”

She nodded her understanding, her eyes wide with fright.

He bent and kissed her. “Do not be afraid, Mairin. We will prevail this day. Now go tend to that cut on your arm.”

She touched his face. “I know we will.”

She turned and called for Crispen. Then she issued a sharp order for all the women of the keep to retreat behind the walls.

“We’ll greet our king at the border of my lands,” Ewan declared. He ordered his men to mount their horses and they rode out, the McDonald and the McLauren men behind them.

Ewan was sick at heart but resolute in his position
against the crown. The life he was forging for himself and Mairin and their children wasn’t an easy one. Their name would forever be associated with dishonor. A hero to some, an outlaw to most.

If keeping the woman he loved by his side was a cause for dishonor, he was prepared to wear the mantle for the rest of his days.

When they arrived at their border, Ewan was surprised to see the king mounted atop his horse with only an escort of half a dozen men. He waited beyond the border, making no effort to cross over onto Ewan’s lands.

“Is this some trick?” McLauren murmured beside Ewan. “Where are the rest of his men? ’Tis suicide to come without his army.”

“Remain here,” Ewan said grimly. He motioned for his brothers and Gannon and Cormac, and rode forward until he was just before the king but still on McCabe land.

The king looked tired and as if he still suffered the effects of his illness. His face was drawn and pale and his shoulders sagged precariously.

“Your Majesty,” Ewan acknowledged. “Why have you come to my borders?”

“I’ve come to correct a wrong. And to thank you.”

Of all the things Ewan thought his king might say, that wasn’t one of them. He cocked his head to the side but didn’t say anything, instead waiting for the king to explain.

“You come with the might of not only your army, but that of the McDonald and the McLauren clans,” the king said. “Tell me, Laird McCabe, would you have fought me this day had I come under the declaration of war?”

“Aye,” Ewan said without hesitation.

Amusement gleamed in the king’s eyes. “By doing so, you would brand yourself an outcast for the rest of your days?”

“Only if I lost,” Ewan drawled. “And I didn’t plan to lose.”

The king shifted on his saddle. “I would meet my niece, Laird McCabe.”

Ewan leveled a stare at King David, unflustered by the abrupt change in topic. “I’ll not allow Mairin outside my walls.”

The king nodded approvingly. “Which is why I hope you invite me within. We have much to discuss, and as I stated, I have much to thank you for.”

“It could be a trick,” Alaric muttered.

“You’ll enter alone,” Ewan said. “Your men remain outside the walls.”

The king arched one eyebrow. “You’re asking me to have that much trust in a man who’s admitted he has no issue with killing me?”

“If all I wanted was to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Ewan said calmly.

David studied him for a moment longer and then slowly nodded. “Very well then. I’ll ride with you into the keep. My men will escort me as far as your gate.”

Ewan turned and gave his men the signal to hold. Then he motioned for David to follow him. Ewan’s brothers flanked the king as they rode back toward the keep.

True to his word, David signaled his men to halt when they reached the bridge across the loch. The McDonald and the McLauren men remained behind while Ewan’s men tramped across the bridge behind their laird.

They dismounted and David slid from his horse and wavered unsteadily on his feet. Ewan frowned but did nothing to shame his king by offering aid in front of his men.

“Laird, shall I send for Lady McCabe?” Cormac whispered.

Ewan shook his head. “Nay, and in fact, I want you to
go to your mistress and make sure she remains in her chamber until I summon her. Protect her well, Cormac, until I know all that transpires here.”

Cormac nodded and hurried away.

The men entered the hall and Ewan called for ale and light refreshment. They sat at the high table and David was quiet as he sipped his ale.

After a moment he looked at Ewan over the rim of his goblet and chewed his lips in a thoughtful measure.

“I’ve need of men of your ilk, Ewan. You had every reason to despise me and yet you warned my guard of your suspicion that I was being weakened by men I trusted. ’Tis because of that warning that I am alive and in front of you today. Archibald indeed plotted against me with Cameron. Archibald slowly poisoned me over time so it would appear as if I sickened and died of natural causes.”

The king sighed and set his goblet down. “I would apologize for the wrongs done to you and especially to your lady wife. I would like to meet my niece with your blessing.”

Ewan regarded his king for a long moment but saw only sincerity reflected in the older man’s eyes. Then he turned to Caelen. “Go and escort Mairin to the hall so that she may meet her uncle.”

Mairin clutched at Caelen’s arm as they started for the stairs. She’d instructed Crispen to remain behind in her chamber with Maddie, but right now she’d give anything to have someone else to hold on to.

Caelen paused at the top of the stairs and then he produced her dagger in the small leather sheathe he’d fashioned to attach to her belt.

“I thought you might like this back,” he said in amusement.

She reached for the knife and attached it to her belt. “Thank you, Caelen. ’Twas very thoughtful of you.”

He smiled and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Chin up. A fierce lass such as you bows to no one.”

They traveled down the stairs and turned the corner into the hall. Across the room, Ewan and the king rose from their seats in acknowledgment of her presence.

Mairin’s knees knocked together in abject terror. Not terror in that she was afraid the king might harm her. Nay, Ewan was standing right beside the king, and he’d never allow such a thing to happen.

This was her family, though. Her flesh and blood. Her uncle. And he was the king of Scotland.

Caelen came to a stop just before the king and loosened his hold on Mairin’s arm, stepping back to allow her the moment with her uncle.

Remembering that she should show respect for the king, no matter Caelen’s thought that she should bow before no one, she hastily dipped into a sweeping curtsy and prayed she wouldn’t fall at his feet.

She waited for his permission to rise, but to her surprise, he knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. He pulled her to her feet, and she was further shocked to see a bright sheen of moisture in his eyes. Eyes that reminded her of her own.

He looked haggard. Pale and exhausted as if he’d fought a long battle with sickness and had only just begun his recovery. Lines etched deeply into his forehead, and wrinkles marred the corners of his eyes.

He kept a firm grip on her hands as he held them in the space between his own. “If I ever had any doubt, I don’t now,” he said in a gruff voice. “You have the look of my mother, may God rest her soul.”

“I do?” Mairin whispered.

“Aye, she was a beautiful woman, kind in spirit and devoted to those in need.”

Mairin swallowed, overwhelmed by the enormity of this moment. After so long in hiding, of living in fear, she was openly acknowledged by her father’s blood.

Ewan stepped to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. The king reluctantly let go of her hands and directed his gaze at Ewan.

“You did a good thing, Ewan. The thought of the lass in Duncan Cameron’s hands …” He cleared his throat. “I will work to correct the wrongs done to you and your wife. I’ll give public blessing to your marriage and I’ll have her dowry transported immediately under heavy guard from Neamh Álainn.”

Mairin gasped. “I thought my dowry lost to Duncan Cameron.”

The king shook his head. “Archibald awarded the dowry to Duncan, but he knew not where it was held. Only I have that knowledge as only I was entrusted with Alexander’s legacy bequeathed to the firstborn of his daughter. It has been under lock and key at Neamh Álainn since Alexander made the bequest so many years ago.”