Page 3 of Bride Takes a Laird

He might as well read it now and cracked the wax seal to open the parchment. His eyes scanned the briefly written lines. “Damnation, I do not need this right now. The king demands my attendance in Edinburgh in all possible haste.”

“Why?” His father scowled and snatched the missive from him, scratching his head as he read the words.

“It does not say but only that I am to leave posthaste.” Magnus retook the missive from his father and crumbled it in his hand. He then tossed it into the fire of the hearth with satisfaction because he wasn’t about to leave his holding. At least, not now with so many issues plaguing him, and not until he had answers from Clarence.

“Ye cannot dismiss the king, son. Give yourself a day or two and then leave.” His father grunted. “Alexander will not be put off and the last thing we need is to incite the king’s ire.”

He wasn’t pleased with having to go to Edinburgh, but what could he do? Until he left to meet with the king, he would see to his other duties. Magnus intended to get his answers from Clarence on the morrow and when he returned he’d set out to find Ned’s assailant, ifthere was one to be found.

The Chattans wouldn’t cede and battles would force them to stand down. With the sowing almost completed for the early crops, the soldiers needed to return to arms training. While he was away, he would have his brother, Wyren, their commander-in-arms, ensure their soldiers trained hard and were readied for war. As he thought of his brother, Wyren and his wife entered the hall. His sister-in-law carried their wee bairn in her arms.

“I just heard,” Wyren said. He guided his wife, Marny, a dark-haired, brown-eyed woman, who recently birthed a bairn, to the table. Marny was from a neighboring clan but had settled in when she’d married his brother. She was a sweet-tempered woman and well-suited to his brother’s confident nature. That Wyren always remained calm when under pressure made him the perfect leader and commander-in-arms. Magnus somewhat envied that trait in his brother. He wasn’t as patient or understanding.

His brother’s bairn, though, had a cranky disposition and often cried, so unlike his docile parents. Hale fretted and wiggled in his mother’s arms. Marny tried to soothe their son, but the wee one was not so easily comforted. “Hale needs to be changed. I shall see ye at home,” she said to Wyren, kissed his cheek, and left hastily.

Wyren kept his gaze on the entrance as his wife left before he returned his attention to him. His brother yawned widely, stretched, and took a seat next to their father. “I vow my bairn is intent to make me deaf and prevents me from ever seeking my bed again. Aye for I am akin to the living dead. He will not cease crying and he’s kept me up over half the night. Do we know what happened yet…to Ned?”

Magnus shook his head. He remained silent and took a deep breath to settle himself. When his brother stared hard at him, he spoke, “This is all I know.” He hastily told Wyren how they found Ned and what Clarence had told him. “Now, I have no time to await Clarence’s findings because I must leave for Edinburgh. Ye will ensure oursoldiers are ready. After we bury Ned, I want all the steward’s records brought to me. Have them put in my solar.”

Wyren bowed his head. “Aye, Magnus, as ye wish but I say we do not await Clarence. Let us go now and find out what happened to Ned. We will light a fire under Clarence’s arse and get our answers now.”

Magnus rose and followed his brother from the hall. With him, Wyren and their father walked on either side of him. The healer’s cottage sat near the center of their holding, close to the tower fief. None spoke until they entered the healer’s domain.

In the small room where Clarence attended the injured and infirm, his brother lay on a high table. Ned was practically unrecognizable. Magnus’s stomach twinged but he withstood the urge to gag at the odor and view. He was used to witnessing death and the horrors of war, but those experiences compared little to the sight of his brother’s lifeless body.

Nearly twenty candles lit the chamber and sent a glow to the far reaches of the room. The healer stood by the table and held the tunic Ned had worn.

Startled by their abrupt arrival, the healer gasped when he turned to them. “Oh, Laird, I did not expect ye so soon. Ye frightened me.”

“I am to leave the holding without delay and cannot await your findings. What say ye, Clarence? Was he murdered?” Magnus approached and stood beside him.

“Ye have not given me much time, Laird, but I say he was murdered. Aye, ye see here,” Clarence said and held up the stained tunic. “There are slits in it where he was stabbed. Looks to be the size of small blades. Likely daggers. There is blood staining his tartan too. At first, I thought perhaps the recent rains soiled his garments, but at closer inspection, ’tis blood. Your brother was indeed murdered. As ye know, I thought him dragged to where he was found. Someone killed and dispatched him there so he would not be found. ’Twas an isolatedspot.”

“Aye, and afar from our lands. There was no reason Ned would have gone there unless he planned to meet someone,” Wyren said.

Magnus couldn’t listen to conjecture. When he found proof of his brother’s murderer, he’d act. “Prepare him for burial. I want him laid to rest this night because I leave for Edinburgh on the morrow. As much as I would like to find his murderer, I cannot delay my journey to meet with the king.”

Wyren set his hand on his shoulder. “His murderer cannot hide from us. We shall find whoever did this to Ned.”

Magnus’s gaze shifted to his father and the healer. “Wyren and I will dig the grave. It is our duty to our brother.” He and Wyren stepped outside and avoided some of his clansmen who stood on the lane who watched the healer’s cottage as if expecting news but Magnus knew the findings would be given later. On the way to where they buried their dead, he snatched a shovel from beside the stable. His brother also grabbed a shovel and together they hastened toward the back of the fief.

There, by the high back wall, was situated a burial site where they buried the closest members of the Cameron clan. He and his brother remained silent whilst they dug and didn’t cease until the hole was deep enough. The rich scent of soil and the freshness of the water floated around them. Being on an island, they couldn’t dig down too deeply because of the risk of reaching the water below. Once they had the hole ready, they jumped onto the surrounding land.

Standing at the edge of the grave by the time they finished the chore, Magnus watched solemnly as his family gathered. At early eve, just before the sun settled beyond the mountainous peaks in the distance, all within his clan assembled. His closest clansmen: Hayden, Osmond, Craig, and Winston carried his brother’s body toward the grave. Magnus wouldn’t allow emotion to control him and he stood with a steeled regard.

Ned was wrapped in their clan’s tartan, the red and green hues blending as Magnus’s eyes threatened to tear. His brother was placed on a wooden board which they used to lower him into the hole. After, Hayden and Osmond took the shovels and made quick work of filling the hole. There was no clergyman to speak Godly words or to send Ned onward to Heaven. Whatever prayers were spoken had to be done privately.

His family stood together solemnly and his mother wept with deep sobs and gave him glances of disdain. His father stood beside her, holding her. His brothers Wyren and Jake watched as the last bit of dirt was added to the mound. Magnus placed a big rock atop the grave. Then one by one, the rest of the clan added their rocks atop to ensure the protection of his brother’s body.

Craig stepped forward with a large goblet in his hand. His guardsmen held jugs of ale. They filled his goblet to the rim. When the men within the clan noticed Craig, they moved forward and stood around him.

Magnus gave the signal with a nod of his head. “My brother Ned was murdered. Someone killed him, for what reason we know not. I pledge to all within our clan that I will not cease the search for Ned’s murderer until I can enact vengeance for his death.” His words came with the vigor of his promise.

The sound of his clansmen’s grunts and cheers of acceptance reached him. Craig handed Magnus the goblet. He took a swig then handed it back to him. Craig drank and passed the goblet on until each man within their clan partook of the cup. Their tradition instilled his promise and his clansmen’s acceptance.

Vengeance would be his and none of his clan would allow him to forget the vow he’d made on this dark day. Magnus especially because he took the vow to his heart as laird.

Vengeance for his brother’s death would be his and his alone.