Page 47 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance (Highland Revenge Trilogy #3)
W ord traveled fast in the Highlands—faster than even a horse could ride when rumor ran hot with talk of betrayal and blood.
Chieftain Roland of Clan Rennoch rode through the village with a troop of twenty warriors, their presence turning heads and causing whispers.
Ryland, still cloaked in Torrance’s name and title, stood on the steps of the keep as Roland came to a stop in front of him and dismounted. His deep-set eyes gleamed with concern, but Ryland wondered what truly was in his thoughts.
“I heard of the attack in the woods,” Roland said. “Word is… someone seeks your death. I have come to offer my support.” He looked past Ryland to the keep, then to the warriors who stood as sentinels along the walls. “And prove that clan Rennoch is loyal to you.”
“A wise decision, Roland,” Ryland said and offered no hand in greeting. “How does your father fare in the dungeon?” A reminder that Clan Rennoch’s betrayal still weighed on his mind.
“He suffers his punishment as best he can.”
That news matched what Brack heard from the warriors Ryland had left there to keep watch over Rennoch since he didn’t trust them.
“I’ve placed men beyond your sentinels—silent watchers hidden where none will see.
If any troops approach, we’ll know before they reach the village.
The rest of my warriors will make camp along the outskirts.
” He nodded toward the line of men behind him, each heavily armed with weapons and ready to fight. “Better to be cautious, aye?”
Ryland gave a single nod. “Aye, see to setting up your camp. We can talk later.”
Roland bobbed his head. “My lord.”
Ryland watched until he disappeared behind the rows of thatched cottages. Then, with a glance at Brack, he turned on his heels. “My solar. Now.”
They entered the room, and Ryland closed the door behind them with quiet precision. No guards to hear, just the two of them.
Brack leaned against the heavy oak table, arms crossed. “You don't trust Roland.”
“Nay,” Ryland said. “I don’t. That attack at the celebration was meant to be victorious, meant to see me, Esme, and every one of my warriors dead. His surrender and compliance came too easily.”
Brack arched a brow. “I agree.”
“That matter can wait for a moment. There is something more important I need to discuss with you.”
Brack straightened, prepared to listen.
“I don’t think this will come as a surprise to you.” Ryland paused, since what he was about to say would change everything. “I’m not Torrance. He is dead, killed by one of his own warriors.” His words were steady despite the weight behind them. “I’m Ryland. His twin.”
Silence followed his announcement. Outside, the wind stirred faintly, as if the Highlands themselves paused to listen.
Brack didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t look surprised. Then he finally spoke. “Torrance is dead. You are sure of it?”
“I am sure. He was food for many an animal.”
“Why did you take his place and what makes you think you are his twin?” Brack asked, continuing to show not an ounce of surprise or concern.
Ryland gave a curt nod at the table. “Sit and I will explain it all to you, though you don’t seem surprised.”
Brack sat after Ryland did. “I suspected… from the beginning.”
Ryland frowned. “Yet you never said anything.”
“I had no proof, only instinct. The change was obvious to me. You looked the same, but your manner…” Brack shook his head. “Punishment and suffering came easily to Torrance. He enjoyed it, fed off it. You showed none of that. So, I waited and watched. Tell me what happened.”
Ryland explained it all from coming upon Torrance severely wounded yet finishing his attacker with a blade, to how Torrance urged him to take his place.
That he believed they were somehow related, and his concern was that a true Glencairn ruled the clan for generations to come.
And how Torrance had him swear to find out who was behind his death and revenge him.
“I know you were loyal to Torrance, Brack?—"
“At one time there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, but over time Torrance grew worse than his father.
My own uncle saw it. He told me Verna tried to warn him about it.
She told him that Torrance’s mother feared the son he would create, selfish with no thought for others, so power-hungry that he would lose his soul to get what he wanted.
” Brack shook his head slowly. “Torrance wanted his father to step down as leader of the clan, but Lord Randall refused. It infuriated Torrance. I don’t know for sure, and I can’t prove it, but I believe Lord Torrance poisoned his father.
He never shed a tear and was impatient to see him buried.
His father created the monster his mother feared he would. ”
Ryland had his answer as to why his mother separated him and his brother at birth… to give one son a chance. He couldn’t imagine how difficult that choice must have been for her.
“What of Lady Esme? What will become of her?” Brack asked.
“When Torrance told me to find him another wife, I knew he would want Esme dead. He cared nothing for her. He only wanted her so you couldn’t have her.
He never planned on remaining wed to her.
My plan was to fake her death and send her away where she would be safe. ”
“She is safe, Brack… with me. I love her as you had once suspected when I visited here. And she has come to love me. That cleric you sent for will not only wed you and Brenna but me and Esme.”
“That is good to hear. Lady Esme deserves a man who loves her. It disturbed me to treat her poorly, suggest punishments, but if I hadn’t, I feared Lord Torrance would have believed I put his wife before him.
Then he would have seen both of us punched.
The reason I kept Torrance from finding out about me and Brenna.
” Brack scrunched his brow. “I thought we had hidden our love well. How did you know about us?
“I was oblivious. Esme is the one you should thank. She told me and kicked me under the table when I chose to tease you both.”
Brack smiled. “Lady Esme is a good woman.”
“That she is,” Ryland said, his expression turning serious. “You will be loyal to me, Brack?
Brack answered without hesitation. “I have done what was necessary to survive under Lord Torrance’s rule and to keep Brenna safe from him.
I feared for the future. You have restored hope for the future and for that alone, I will be your loyal servant.
Mostly though, I will be forever grateful that you are allowing Brenna and me to wed and share a life together. ”
“I am pleased to hear the, Brack, though loyal friend sounds better than servant to me,” Ryland said and held out his hand.
Brack took it. “I am honored to be your friend and will do whatever you ask of me.”
Ryland shook his head. “I am not Torrance. I don’t want you to agree with everything I say. I need you to share your opinions with me. No man is infallible. We all make mistakes sooner or later. Different opinions can help a leader make wise decisions.”
“Aye, my lord. It will be a pleasant change of pace to speak my piece.”
“Good now there are some things I need you to do. First, I need you to choose the clans most trusted warriors and ones skilled enough to avoid Roland’s men.”
“I know the perfect ones, my lord,” Brack said and listened as Ryland detailed what needed to be done.
Wind swept through the village, tugging at cloaks and hair, and rattling shutters.
Gray clouds hovered above, low and heavy, as if they also bore witness to what was about to unfold.
Unease rippled through the crowd that began to gather in front of the keep.
They came hesitantly, husbands holding firm to their wife’s hand.
Mothers with bairns braced on hips, the elderly slow, some leaning heavily on walking sticks, and warriors with swords sheathed but close to hand.
They all shared one thing… uncertainty glaring in their eyes.
Ryland stood tall on the top step of the keep, Esme at his side.
“Roland and his warriors approach,” Ryland said, seeing the young chieftain and his men keep to the back of the crowd. “Three days now he’s been here, insisting he will remain as long as necessary. Is it loyalty or does he have something planned?”
“And will your announcement today make a difference?” Esme said, keeping firm hold of his hand, intending to remain by his side and show everyone that she not only supported him but also believed in him.
“We shall see.” He turned his head, his eyes coming to rest on hers. “You give me strength Esme.”
A soft smile graced her lips. “Nay, Ryland. It is you who gave me the strength to dig deep, to gain confidence, and find my strength that gave me the courage to love and be loved. And to stand by your side no matter the consequences.”
He squeezed her hand. “Together?—”
“Always,” she finished with a whisper.
“My lord,” Brack called out, climbing the steps.
Ryland turned.
“Everyone is here,” Brack said and stepped to the side.
Ryland stood tall looking over the men and women who had suffered under Torrance’s cruel rule. People who had bent under the weight of fear for far too long. They deserved the truth.
Ryland’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. “Listen well.”
The crowd instantly turned silent.
He kept his voice strong, confident. “I stand before you not as Lord Torrance, but my true self… Chieftain Ryland of Clan MacLeish.”
Gasps and startled cries spread through the crowd, then whispers, mumbles, and several people shook their heads in disbelief.
“Lord Torrance died in the battle with Clan MacLeish. I did not kill him. One of his own warriors delivered the blows that claimed his life, though not before Lord Torrance swung a final blow that took the traitor’s life.
He told me to take his place, to be him, to revenge his death, to find out the truth if we were related so that Glencairn’s bloodline could continue.
A few heads lifted. Others frowned.