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“On the same week, there’s another cattle market … at Clachan,” he continued. “What say ye to stealing MacDonald’s cattle while they’re traveling to Carradale? We’ll then herd the beasts across to the west of the peninsula, where we’ll sell them off without anyone being the wiser?”

As far as plans went, it was a clever one. They couldn’t arrive at Carradale with a head of stolen cattle—but if they made haste to Clachan and moved the livestock on quickly, they’d walk away with purses full of silver pennies.

Clyde was nodding vigorously, although Knox’s expression shuttered, worry clouding his eyes. “We’ve never done anything this big before, Da,” he pointed out. “Why don’t we just hide them in the Lost Valley and be done with it? No one will ever find them there.”

Graham snorted. “No, but no one will ever pay us for the beasts either, idiot.”

Knox flushed. “Maybe not … but it’s less risky.”

“No risk, no gain,” Graham replied with a sneer.

“Aye,” Clyde added, smirking. “What’s wrong, Knox … have yer bollocks shriveled?”

Knox cast his brother an irritated look before meeting his father’s eye once more. “If ye are set on this, Da … we’ll need help.”

“Aye, and lucky for us, I still have friends who’d be happy to be involved … for a cut of the profits.”

Knox gave a slow nod, although he still didn’t look as excited as his younger brother. “They’ll hang us all if we’re caught,” he reminded them.

Clyde’s grin slipped, as if he hadn’t yet considered the possibility, while Graham swore under his breath. The devil’s turds, he’d met sheep brighter than these two.

Leaning forward, he pinned them both with a steely gaze before a harsh smile tugged at his lips. Excitement quickened his blood then, as it always did when he came up with an idea that would kick his enemy in the cods. “And that’s why our plan shall be watertight.”

Kerr climbed the steps to the wall, pulling his cloak close as he went. It was a raw night, so cold that it hurt to breathe. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t leave his men on the night watch on their own while he slept in a warm bed.

A few times a week, he made sure he showed his face for a while upon the wall. He’d recently recruited more warriors—all young men from nearby villages, the sons of cottars or fishermen mostly—and wanted to set a good example to them.

The political situation beyond this quiet corner of Scotland was worsening, and the king had continued his campaign against the Douglases. He’d already pulled some of the Highland clans into the conflict, and Kerr wondered how long it would be before he called upon the Mackays as well.

They had to be ready.

The cold dug through his layers of clothing. The glow of braziers on the ramparts lit up the night. It had been foggy earlier, yet the mist had lifted as dusk settled, the sky clearing. A hazy half-moon shone down, illuminating the world below in a silvery veil.

Kerr’s breath steamed in front of him as he walked the wall, greeting each man-at-arms by name.

“All quiet, Ronan?” he asked one of the lads, an Irishman who’d recently moved across the water to Scotland.

“Aye, Captain,” the young warrior replied, his breath clouding in front of him. “It’s a still night … ye could hear an owl fart.”

Kerr’s mouth lifted at the corners. Nodding, he moved on, moving farther up the ramparts to where his brother stood.

“I can take ye off the night watch, if ye want?” he murmured to Lennox as he stopped, shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

Lennox raised an eyebrow. “And have the other lads accuse ye of favoring kin?”

“I imagine Davina would thank me though.”

“Aye … although we’ll be in our new home before long. I’ll get someone else to watch my walls at night then.”

Indeed, Lennox and his wife would soon be moving to their broch, which was currently being built on the western shore of Lussa Loch, inland from Dun Ugadale.

Iver had gifted him a parcel of land that ran alongside the loch.

His home would be ready mid-spring, but in the meantime, Lennox still worked in The Guard.

“Ye will make a good laird, I think,” Kerr replied, adding. “Ye’ll certainly enjoy ordering everyone around.”

Lennox snorted before giving him a playful shove in the ribs with his elbow. “Leading is in all our blood, brother.” He paused then, eyeing Kerr. “I saw Brodie ride out earlier for Ceann Locha. Why didn’t ye join him?”

Kerr shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.” In the past, he’d often accompanied Brodie for an evening drinking and dicing at taverns.

The brothers watched each other’s backs too.

But these days, Kerr couldn’t face it. “After Father Ross’s passing, everything feels a bit” —he paused there, struggling to find the right word— “flat.”

Silence fell between the brothers before Lennox spoke up. “Aye, it’s been a sad time … Davina is still inconsolable.”

A week had passed since Father Ross’s burial, yet the folk of Dun Ugadale still grieved. Kerr knew his sister-by-marriage was close to the priest. Father Ross had been one of the first to welcome her to the village, and she’d visited him regularly with flowers for the altar.

“Ross will be hard to replace,” Kerr replied, even as guilt speared him. Aye, he had been out of sorts ever since Father Ross’s death, but that wasn’t the only thing bothering him.

His desire for Rose MacAlister had turned into a pining that twisted his guts and robbed him of joy. He had to master it, yet he didn’t know how.

As if sensing something was amiss, Lennox turned to him fully. His brother’s brow then furrowed. “Even since before we lost the priest, ye haven’t been yerself, Kerr,” he noted. “Ye’ve always been more serious than the rest of us … but of late, I think yer face would crack if ye smiled.”

Kerr snorted, even as his pulse quickened. Lennox was so taken up with Davina that he sometimes thought his brother noticed little else—but he had.

Kerr had always been known as the ‘dependable’ brother. Iver was charming, Lennox hot-headed, and Brodie brooding—whereas Kerr was the steady one. They’d all ribbed him mercilessly about it growing up, something he hadn’t enjoyed.

Irritation speared his guts now at the teasing glint in Lennox’s eyes.

This was why he kept his secrets close to his chest. His brothers didn’t mean him ill, yet he tired of their mockery. Aye, he was dependable. Someone had to be.

“It’s just the endless cold and grey of winter getting to me,” he lied with a shrug. “That and the prospect of seeing Graham MacAlister tomorrow.”

“Why is that then?”

“Kyle’s collecting overdue rent from a few farmers this week … and I’m accompanying him in case things turn nasty.” He paused then. “I don’t want Rose to lose her home.”

Lennox nodded, even as his dark-blue eyes narrowed. “Yer compassion is commendable, brother,” he replied, his voice lowering. “Although I don’t understand it. Every time I’ve seen ye together, the lass looks like she wants to shove a pike up yer arse.”

Kerr grimaced. He might have admitted how he felt about Rose then, and even weathered Lennox’s teasing, if the thud of hoofbeats hadn’t intruded.

The brothers turned their attention to the causeway leading up the hill from the village. A lone rider, hunched low over the saddle, was approaching the broch.

“A bit late for visitors, isn’t it?” Lennox murmured.

Kerr frowned. “Aye,” he replied, heading toward the guard tower that spanned the gate. “Let’s see who it is.”