Page 16 of Highland Heroine (Brides of the Highlands #3)
A t dawn, Moira’s red hair stood out in the gray morning as she leaned forward, scanning the courtyard below.
“Ye ken what must be done, Lachlan,” she said to her brother-in-law. “We cannae let the traitors slip through our grasp.”
Lachlan nodded, determination etched on his face. “Aye, I’ll watch ’em close.” His hand went to the dirk at his belt.
Moira turned away—no time for further assurances.
Brodie spoke with Alisdair, his deep brown eyes intense. “Speak naught of the true purpose,” he instructed. “Let them believe ye seek their counsel on mundane matters. We need to see who flinches when the wind shifts.”
“Understood,” Alisdair responded, calm and steady.
Brodie descended toward the gathering soldiers, calling them aside two at a time. From the parapet, Moira observed the interactions, Fiona beside her.
“Can ye tell anything from up here?” Fiona asked.
“Only that Brodie is skilled at this game,” Moira replied.
“We must trust in his methods.” While she knew her husband was lying as he talked to the men, there were no signs of it.
A lesser woman may become worried that he was a skilled liar and could tell her anything.
Instead, Moira chose to be proud of her husband’s penchant for deception.
Why would she worry that he would lie to her, when she knew he was a trustworthy man?
He lied for the safety of his clan. Nothing less.
Before Fiona could respond, Ailis called up from lower down the wall. “Moira! I need yer eyes on this.”
“Go,” Fiona urged.
With Moira joining Ailis, she glanced back toward Brodie and the men one last time. As they paced alongside each other, her gaze never left the soldiers below, searching for any hint of treachery threatening their clans.
“Anything amiss?” Ailis questioned urgently.
“Naught yet,” Moira replied, “but if serpents hide in the heather, we’ll find them.” Her words were a vow, spoken with a conviction rooted in her clan’s survival. No one would hurt any of the allied clans if she could help it.
The Highland breeze whipped Moira’s woolen cloak around her as she stood atop the parapet, scanning the stone and scrub below.
Behind her, the McAfee Keep cast protective shadows.
Among the men below, one figure caught her attention—Lucas Gordon striding toward Sinclair lands.
Moira felt shock and betrayal with each step he took.
She had been certain he was on their side, and she felt sick to her stomach at the idea he was betraying them.
“Lucas…” she whispered, gripping the cold stone.
Time passed—an hour or more—as suspicion and uncertainty consumed her thoughts.
Then, Lucas reemerged alongside two men loyal to the Sinclairs—Bearnard and Horas, who had tried to keep the two younger McAfee sisters from marrying the McClain brothers.
Not that it had worked. With a muttered curse, Moira descended the turret stairs, each step fueling her resolve against treachery.
At the training field, Brodie stood firm while Lucas and his companions faced him without weapons but full of defiance. Acknowledging Moira with a nod, Brodie listened as she accused Lucas of playing a game.
“Naught but the game of survival,” Lucas replied, chin lifted in defiance. “We come to stand with ye against the Stewarts. The men are all losing their loyalty as they see Clyde Stewart hurt others for nothing but the pleasure of it.”
Brodie’s tone revealed skepticism as he questioned their sudden pledge of loyalty, which Bearnard and Horas tried to defend by citing losses to the Stewart’s greed and choosing kin over foes.
Moira’s gaze met Brodie’s, the men’s assurances offering no comfort. Their claims hung heavy, as tenuous as the distant mist-shrouded peaks. Silence fell, a contemplative veil, as they searched for truth in the tangled web of alliances and loyalties.
*
The great hall of McAfee Keep hummed with conversation as Moira entered with her sisters, Ailis and Fiona. They caught the attention of Brodie, Lachlan, and Alisdair by the hearth, while Lucas Gordon and his companions—Bearnard and Horas—awaited.
“Ye’ve come to pledge yer allegiance away from the Stewarts,” Moira said, her voice echoing across the hall.
“Aye,” Bearnard replied wearily. “The cost has been too dear. We yearn for peace, not endless bloodshed.”
Ailis studied the suitors before responding. “Peace is a noble pursuit, but trust, once broken, is not easily mended.”
Fiona observed the men intently, offering support through her silent presence.
Afterward, as the suitors were led away, Brodie pulled Moira into a dimly lit antechamber. The torchlight flickered on his face as he spoke, “Before ye saw Lucas take leave toward Sinclair lands, I hadn’t shared our strategy with him.”
Moira searched his expression. “Then why would he fetch his comrades before hearing our plans?”
Brodie frowned. “His actions suggest he knew more than he ought or suspected enough to seek reinforcements.”
“Or allies,” Moira considered. “Either way, it’s a dangerous game—a game we must unravel to protect our kin and our future.”
“Agreed,” Brodie said. “We must tread carefully. The fate of the Highlands may well rest on what we uncover.” He shook his head. “I want to trust him, but I dinnae ken why. He made things very difficult when we were on Gordon land.”
Moira stepped back into the hall, the responsibility heavy but her posture unbowed. Her eyes held determination as she faced adversity for the safety of her family and the freedom of the Highlands.
*
The Highland breeze carried the scent of pine as Moira nocked an arrow, her gaze locked onto a deer. Beside her, Brodie crouched low, weapon ready. Lucas, Bearnard, and Horas hid in the underbrush.
“Steady,” Brodie whispered.
She released her breath slowly and let the arrow fly. A clean kill. The forest echoed with twangs of bows and thuds of falling game.
As they collected their bounty, Moira strained to hear whispered conspiracies or plans but heard only admiration for precise shots and discussions about loyalty.
“Choosing the right side is like choosing the right moment for the kill,” Lucas said as he dragged a buck by its antlers. “Too soon or too late makes all the difference.”
Brodie met Moira’s gaze, communicating shared uncertainty without words.
By sunset, they had four deer between them.
Granny McAfee greeted them at the gate. “Ah, what a sight! The larder will be full tonight.” She gestured for servants to relieve them of their burdens.
“I fear we will need to keep hunting, but I worry for those who are doing the hunting. What will happen if the Stewart alliance finds ye?”
“I dinnae believe the Stewarts are watching for hunters,” Lucas added, nodding respectfully toward them.
Granny praised them but later leaned closer to Moira with a solemn expression. “Be wary, child. Trust must be earned. Watch ’em close.”
“I’ll not forget,” Moira said.
As Granny shuffled away, Moira turned back to Brodie, who was studying their guests with vigilance. “Granny wants us to watch them closely.”
“Let us be so,” Brodie replied. Together, they would protect their clans and land.
*
The fire crackled in the great hall as the assembled lairds listened intently. Moira and her sisters stood close to the wall, their breath fogging in the chill air, watching the proceedings.
“Speak yer piece,” Duncan McAfee commanded, his voice rumbling.
The men pled their case, speaking of losses and hearts turned sour against ruthless ambitions. Hours passed, whispers flitted among the sisters as the wind howled its lonely song outside the stone walls.
The heavy oak doors groaned open, and Duncan emerged at the forefront, carrying the weight of their decision. The sisters clustered around him, eyes expectant.
“I believe them,” he said, his gaze meeting Moira’s. “Their tales bear truth, and their desire to stand with us rings clear.”
Relief filled Moira; Ailis and Fiona exhaled in unison.
“Then we’ll welcome them as allies,” Moira said with conviction.
“Together, we’ll face whatever trials may come.
” But in the back of her mind, she promised herself and the entire alliance that she would still keep an eye on the three men.
She wasn’t sure she could trust them completely.
Duncan nodded his approval, trust given was a fragile gift that could forge strong bonds in shared purpose.
*
Hoofbeats and murmurs carried on the crisp air as Moira stood upon the parapet, her red hair tousled by the breeze. Across the land, she spotted weary figures emerging from Sinclair territory—which had been taken over by the Stewart alliance.
“More have come,” Moira called to Brodie in the courtyard below.
“Let us greet our new brothers in arms,” he replied.
Together, they descended into the castle heart where Ailis and Fiona joined them, forming a unified trio against their ancestral stronghold. The newcomers halted at the gates, dismounting tensely. Duncan addressed them authoritatively.
“Ye come seeking refuge or purpose?”
“Both, Laird McAfee,” the foremost man answered earnestly. “We cannae follow a man like Stewart.”
Duncan declared, “Then ye are welcome to join us, as long as we are united against tyranny that threatens our beloved Highlands.”
A murmur of shared determination rippled through the crowd. Men began intermingling, exchanging names and tales of disillusionment with Stewart. The sounds of camaraderie mingled with sword clashes as training resumed.
“Looks like our plan is taking root,” Ailis said, observing the men band together.
Moira allowed a small smile. “It’ll take more than Clyde Stewart to tear it asunder.”
*
Moira surveyed the Highlands from McAfee Keep’s parapet, her breath visible in the brisk morning air. As dawn banished shadows, figures emerged from Stewart territory—men abandoning the Stewart for a new allegiance.
Her hands gripped the rough stone battlements, resolve steeling within her. Each newcomer symbolized the waning power of the Stewart clan. Not one returned to their former laird. Instead, they joined the McAfees.
“Another group arrives,” Fiona said excitedly.
“Aye,” Moira replied, a determined smile on her face. “This bodes well for us.” She couldn’t help the small bit of skepticism she felt toward the men who were joining, but she was determined not to let it show.
Brodie and Lachlan welcomed the arrivals at the gates. After brief exchanges, the newcomers were guided to the great hall where they would learn about joining the McAfee cause.
“Stewart must be gnashing his teeth in frustration,” Ailis remarked with satisfaction. “His power wanes while ours grows—with his own soldiers.”
“We must remain vigilant,” Moira warned. “But our hope strengthens with each warrior who forsakes him.”
“Hope is good,” Fiona agreed, “but steel wins wars.”
“Then it’s fortunate we have both.”
Descending from the parapet, Moira moved among her allies. They trained and planned, conviction growing that they would thwart Stewart’s ambitions.
As twilight transformed into night, Moira stood atop her keep’s walls once more, contemplating all who fought within these lands.
“Today, no man crossed back to Stewart,” she said softly to herself, her words carried away by the wind.
“Tomorrow, we will stand even stronger.” Confidence surged within her, mingling with the pride of her clan and the love for her people.
In that quiet moment, Moira felt the tides of destiny shifting, and she knew they were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead—as long as the soldiers stayed loyal.