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Torrin didn’t even know what to say to that.

He couldn’t imagine how anyone in that small group of men could have possibly thought it a good idea for them to march over to his home and propose such foolishness.

Then again, for Laird Keith, the only thing that mattered was gold, so perhaps he thought he could buy this, too.

He didn’t speak for a long time—so long that the men began to get uncomfortable, some of them shifting their weight from one foot to the other, others glancing around them nervously as they waited.

Good… let them feel it. Let them be shaken.

When Torrin did finally speak, he didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear.

"I dinnae understand what ye or Laird Keith were tryin’ tae achieve with this," he said. "Dae ye truly think I would ever agree tae such foolish terms? Especially after the attack at the auction, yer laird should be in hidin’ from me, nae sendin’ his men tae me home.

How can ye nae see how insultin’ this is, both fer me an’ fer ye? "

The men glanced among themselves, all of them saying nothing. What was there to say after all? They were all well aware that their plan wouldn’t work, and Torrin couldn’t wait for the moment they would all finally leave his home.

"I think there is some merit tae the idea," said the older man. "O’ course, we all ken that with Miss MacNeacail’s hand, one will receive a large fleet, but with the gold Laird Keith is willin’ tae offer fer the lass, ye can build a fleet o’ yer own, Laird Gunn.

Just the way ye wish it tae be. Ye willnae need tae negotiate with her faither.

Ye willnae need tae go through another clan tae make decisions.

Ye can have yer own fleet an’ use it as ye see fit. "

Torrin narrowed his eyes at the man, leaning back, his posture open and relaxed. "An’ if Laird Keith has all this gold as ye say, then why daesnae he build the fleet fer himself? Why daes he need Miss MacNeacail?"

"He daesnae," said the man with a shrug. "He simply wants her."

Torrin didn’t know whether or not that was true.

There was a good chance the man was lying to him, since from what he knew of Laird Keith, the man was only after gold and power, not matters of the heart.

Then again, he could be so greedy that he could think having Valora, the object of his desire, was the end goal.

There is nay tellin’ with them, an’ that is what bothers me the most. Are they lyin’ tae me? Are they tellin’ me the truth?

Over his shoulder, Noah watched the Keith men like a hawk, taking in their reactions.

Torrin knew he would have a lot to say to him by the end of this, but Noah never shared anything in front of the enemy, not even quietly, unless he was asked.

Torrin had half a mind to ask him, but in the end, he decided against it.

It was better to show these men the kind of power they understood—complete and absolute, with him making all of the decisions for himself and the clan.

They couldn’t understand the power that lay in the council—or rather these men could, but not Laird Keith.

"Well, I dinnae agree tae Laird Keith’s terms," said Torrin, standing from his desk and effectively putting an end to the conversation. "I told his men after the auction that his attack was as good as a declaration o’ war an’ I meant it.

I have heard yer offer, I have nay desire tae consider it, so I dinnae think there is any reason fer ye tae linger. "

The men took it as the dismissal it was. With one final nod, they began to shuffle out of the room one by one and Torrin watched them, waiting for all of them to leave before he turned to Noah.

"Make sure they leave," he said, though he was certain all his guards would be keeping a close eye on them. None of them would linger under his men’s watch. "An’ make sure ye send scouts after them. We should ken when they’ve left our lands.

If they stay any more than necessary, we must take care o’ it any way we can. "

"Even war?" asked Noah, skeptical. He had every right to be; though up until then, there had been plenty of conflicts between Torrin and Laird Keith, their clans clashing repeatedly throughout the years, there hadn’t yet been a war the kind of which would be devastating on both sides. Was Torrin prepared for such a possibility? Certainly, if Valora agreed to marry him, his power would grow overnight, but he couldn’t rely on that, nor could he believe that just because he would have the MacNeacails on his side, his clan would escape unscathed.

In situations like this, in times of war, it was always the common folk who paid the most, their houses and farms destroyed, their livelihoods gone.

What would he do if there was a famine? What would he do if the devastation was much more than the clan could bear?

But what other choice dae I have? If I dinnae show Laird Keith I’m serious, when will this stop? How will it stop?

As much as he despised the thought, war might be his only option. And sometimes, it was better to be the one who started it.

He looked up at Noah, his eyes hard and his expression stony as he said, "Aye. Even war."