Page 12 of The Bells of Triumph (Highlands’ Lost Valley #3)

11

WHISPERS IN THE TOWER

S eamus wasn't entirely sure where he was going, only that he needed to put distance between the war room and himself. He needed a better perspective. So he climbed the steps of the tallest tower in Glenkirk. He passed window after window as the stairs wound around themselves. For a moment, he felt as though he was going nowhere. But then something just outside the window caught his attention.

Inching closer, Seamus pressed his face against the glass, peering outside. He scanned the view; the village that lay below him, the peaceful river rolling alongside it, and in the distance, Murray Castle. It was particularly strange to see his home, his inheritance, from this vantage point. But that wasn't what caught his eye. Rather, it was the growing mob of villagers gathering on the edge of the village. Curious, he undid the latch and pushed open the glass pane, only to be met by the sounds of people shouting. The sight gave him the distinct feeling that he had been here before, he had seen this sight before, if only in a dream.

This was not the first time he had stood in a tower, watching as people below him suffered. The difference is that this time, there were no Campbell guards in sight. In fact, there was no sign of Campbell at all. Peeling his eyes off the crowd, Seamus searched Murray Castle for any hint as to what Campbell was doing, what he would do next. Some part of him, a rather foolish part he could admit,hoped that he would be able to catch a glimpse of Campbell, that he would be able to discover the villain's plan, if only to save Seamus from having to make a decision himself.

His mother's words echoed in his mind, as they so often did.

“A Laird is nae judged based on how much land he is able to take from other clans, nor is he deemed worthy by his ability to wield a sword. A Laird is judged by the fairness of his rule and the way his people prosper under his care. There are times when that includes fighting for what is right, but I pray that when ye are Laird, ye have a peaceful reign that is marked only by the prosperity of those under ye.”

More than anything, Seamus wanted to see his people prosper. He wanted Campbell to be ousted not because Seamus was hungry for power, but because he wanted his clan to be able to thrive again. Cutting off an entire village from food and water in the hopes that they rise against Campbell was in no way helping them prosper.

He had seen this kind of thing before. He had watched Campbell invade and destroy entire villages simply because he could. The screams of those dying still haunted his dreams. And Finn wanted to do the same thing all over again. Seamus had a hard time seeing how the two men were different in their tactics.

On paper, Seamus knew that it made the most sense to wait to strike the enemy when they were weak. If Campbell was trying to fend off attacks and riots from a village, his attention would be split. Seamus could use the diversion to plan a sneak attack on an already strained army. But he also knew that sending Murray Village into a fight against Campbell without any help would all but guarantee their slaughter—that was if they didn't starve first. Seamus didn't think he was strong enough to approve such a plan and then look out on the village, as he was doing now, every day, only to watch the villagers suffer.

“Ye will ken when to fight just as well as ye ken when to strive for peace.”

His mother's words drifted into his mind, unsummoned. She had been so confident in him, so sure that he would one day be able to make the right decisions. And now that he was here, faced with making these decisions, he felt more unsure than ever.

“I thought I might find ye here.”

Flora's hand ran over his back and up his shoulder as she stepped closer to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, having not heard her coming.

“Have I been away for too long?” he asked without looking at her. “I could nae think in that stuffy room. Every seat is filled with a different opinion, with someone who thinks they ken what is best or that they would do a better job at this.”

“Perhaps they would do a better job.” Seamus spun around to look at Flora in disbelief that she had said such a thing. “But I find it highly unlikely. Regardless of what they might think, they are nae the ones in this position. They are nae the ones who fate has handed this responsibility to. And I like to think that fate kens what she is doing.”

He relaxed into her words, grateful to find that even if he didn't believe in his own ability to lead, Flora still did.

“I merely needed space to hear my own thoughts,” he explained again, turning his sights back to the gathering villagers.

“Finn is wrong,” she declared. “I never thought I would see myself sitting so opposite of him. I never thought that our morals would ever shift in such drastic ways. Since I have kent Finn, I have thought of us being on the same side. But he is wrong in this.”

Seamus hummed thoughtfully. Flora took it as a cue to continue her passionate plea to make him understand her.

“We have wounded Campbell twice over now. The first was when ye took his leg, and now we have taken Glenkirk. Three times if ye count dispatching Drummond. Campbell is nae one to let anything go, especially nae something of this magnitude.”

“What are ye saying?”

“I am saying that we dinnae need to wait for the villagers to attack Campbell. We dinnae need anything else to instigate him. He will seek out retribution against us for the blows we have dealt him. Campbell is too arrogant to let us stay in a castle so close to him that we can see him from the windows. He will fight to regain his footing. He will fight out of arrogance, to prove that he is incapable of losing just valuable ground.”

Seamus shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Ye dinnae ken Campbell the way I do. Ye are speaking only on his reputation. But I ken the way he thinks. I have watched him come up with battle plan after battle plan. I ken what he values, and it is nae the control of a single village and castle.”

“What do ye think will happen then? Ye have heard enough of everyone else's opinions on the matter. Tell me what ye are thinking.”

He sighed heavily and turned his back to the window. The sight of the growing crowd at the end of the village was beginning to be too much for him to watch. Leaning against the window sill, he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms. He sat on his perch for a moment, contemplating all he knew of Campbell, all he had seen of the man, as though he were in a great chess match contemplating his next move. Only, Seamus' decisions wouldn't mean the mere loss of a piece of marble but the loss of countless lives. It wasn't a decision he could afford to make lightly. There would be no rematches if he lost this game.

Needing the comfort her closeness brought, Seamus reached out a hand and tugged Flora into him. Only once she was situated between his outstretched legs, a hand brace on his chest with the other resting on his shoulder, her fingers playing with his hair, did he give her an answer.

“This is nae about controlling land or even people for Campbell. It stopped being about that years ago when he first discovered that I would nae rule the clan the way he has. It has shifted into a game of wills. He does nae care about having the clan for himself. He only wants to ensure that I never get it.”

“I dinnae understand. How does that change anything?”

“Campbell would sooner burn the entirety of the Murray Clan to the ground than see me take over as Laird. He would do anything to stop that from happening. A single village rising against him will do nothing to spark a fight. Campbell would be all too happy to see the entire village starve if that is what he thought it would take for me to break.”

“Surely nae. There are women and children in that village. There are bairns. Campbell would nae go so far as to kill them all needlessly.”

“He has done so before. What is to stop him from doing it a second or third or fourth time?”

They both grew silent at the darkness of Seamus' point. He hated knowing the veracity of what he was saying, but it had to be said all the same.

“Ye're right that Campbell will nae forgive the fact that I have cost him his kin, his leg, and a second fortress. But ye are wrong to think that any of that would cause him to act impulsively. He does nae care about the village or the villagers, but I do. He kens that and will use it against me. By barricading the village and stirring up a riot, we are only handing Campbell the ammunition he needs. We will weaken ourselves, nae him.”

Flora stepped in closer, forcing him to tilt his head back so he could look into her eyes. The gray orbs swirled around like Highland storm clouds, changing so unpredictably that you never knew which way the winds would blow. He braced himself to hear her disappointment, for her to call him weak and foolish. He certainly felt that way about himself. But as she opened her mouth to speak, those clouds shifted into something unerringly loving and steadfast, something he found he could anchor himself in.

“I cannae pretend to understand the dilemma ye are facing. I dinnae ken Campbell, I have nae witnessed his atrocities first hand. It is yer skin that bears his mark, yer mind that carries his scars. There is nay one in this clan who feels the agony of what Campbell has done more than ye. These are yer people,” she gestured to the window behind him and the view beyond. “Ye feel a responsibility towards them that nay one else can.”

His shoulders nearly buckled under the weight of her words. It was the first time he had ever heard anyone put words to his situation so well.

“It is because of this that nay one can make this decision for ye. Ye have listened to the thoughts and opinions of those around ye, as any good leader would do. Ye have weighed the risks and calculated the rewards for each plan proposed. And nay matter what Finn might say, the choice is ultimately yers. Ye are leading us forward, so ye must be sure of our direction.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against her belly. Her hands moved to wrap around his head, enveloping him in a comfort he so desperately sought. After being strong for so many for so long, never letting them see him waver, quelling their doubts while ignoring his own, he needed a moment to feel it all.

“My love, look at me,” she ordered gently.

Picking his head up after another moment, he took in a deep breath and found her eyes once more. They again had shifted, this time they were hard and strong like the steel of a blade, unbending.

“It is nay small thing that each of the men we journeyed here with pledged themselves to ye. That was nae simply a formality or a tradition to uphold. Those men gave ye their swords because they trust that ye will lead us where we need to go. They have seen what ye stand for and how ye fight, and chose to align themselves with ye. They trust ye. I trust ye. So now, ye must trust yerself. Make the decision that ye ken is right. And then ken that yer people are behind ye, willing to fight for that, nay matter the cost.”

Just as his mother had done all those years ago, tucked in a small library, Flora's words sparked something in him that made him want to be better. She challenged his doubts, his insecurities. Not just challenged them, vanquished them with her words, her touch, and her love. Her belief in him made him want to believe in himself. It made him want to stand up tall and march into battle with his head held high.

With one hand on her hip and the other cupping the side of her face, Seamus stood without letting Flora put so much as an inch in between them. As soon as he was at his full height, Seamus bent his head and pressed his lips against hers. He poured out his thanks, lavishing her with his love. He let his kiss tell her all the things he couldn't put into words. He only pulled away once he was sure she was flushed and yearning for him as much as he was for her. And then he gave her his answer.

“All I want to do, all I have ever wanted to do, is save as many people as I can. Everything else—the castles, the gold, the power—none of that matters. I want to see my people prosper. I cannae do that if I starve them first, if I sacrifice them to battle if only to hope I gain the upper hand. I will nae do it.”

This time, it was her kiss that caught him off guard. She moved so quickly that she stole his breath and didn't give it back for several seconds, staying pressed against him until he couldn't think of anything but her.

“We should go tell the others. They will be waiting to ken what ye have decided.”

Her words would have filled him with worry had she said them two minutes sooner. But the way she looked at him, full of pride and love, made him feel invincible. He was half tempted to storm into Murray Castle himself and seek Campbell out then and there. But for now, facing the war room would have to be challenge enough.

Taking her hand, they walked back through the castle to where Finn, Errik, and the rest of the men were waiting. The platters of food were now empty, as were their mugs of ale. Many of them looked impatient or bored while a handful had closed their eyes, weary from the journey. Finn, however, sat just as straight with the same determined look on his face, showing no signs of growing tired.

“Apologies for having kept ye waiting so long,” Seamus called as he walked inside.

He felt Finn's gaze drift to where Flora's fingers were still intertwined with Seamus'. Seamus refused to let go. He also opted to stand at the front of the room rather than seek his chair out again. He doubted that this would be a long conversation at all.

“I needed the time to think through all the options.”

“I still dinnae understand why ye think the decision is up to ye.” Finn crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Seamus of a boy who had his favorite toy taken away. “Who put ye in charge?”

“These men did,” Seamus gestured to those sitting on his side of the table, “when they pledged their swords to me. They chose, at that moment, to allow me to lead them. And it is my impression that if we are going to defeat Campbell, that ye will need all of my men fighting alongside ye. So, I would think that gives me the right to make the decision. Nae to mention, the Murray Clan and I share one verra important thing that ye dinnae.”

“And what is that?”

Defiance dripped from every word out of Finn's mouth, but Seamus found it no longer bothered him. Rather, it made him sad to know that Finn must be feeling all the same things Seamus had, only Finn had isolated himself so much that there was no one to help soothe those feelings. It must have been a very lonely experience.

“A name,” Seamus told him simply.

His answer hung in the air for a moment, reminding everyone present that it was indeed Seamus' birthright to lead this clan. He came from a long line of leaders on both sides that one could argue leading was in Seamus' blood.

When Finn had no retort to give to that, Seamus decided it was time to continue.

“While I can see the merit in yer plan, Finn, I cannae agree with it. I will nae set aside my morals and risk the lives of countless innocents on the slight chance that it might give us the advantage. In truth, the more I think about it, the more I come to realize that seizing the village will nae weaken Campbell, it will weaken us. I cannae sit by and listen to people starving, children dying, and villagers rioting for relief. I will nae be the reason this clan crumbles.”

The room began to grumble, but Seamus held on to control of it, plowing through their murmurs as he continued to make his point.

“The entire reason we have joined forces, the reason that Chief Rolland founded the Lost Valley and this group of rebels, was to revolt against Campbell's treatment of the clan. We have all been afflicted by the cruelty that Campbell wields to get what he wants. He does nae think about what it will cost anyone else, the lives he is affecting. And I refuse to lower myself to his level. I will nae replace one tyrant with another. We will win this war and be rid of Campbell without sacrificing our morals, without doing away with what is right.”

“Here, here,” Errik called, giving Seamus the boost he needed to finish his speech.

“I look around, and I see the faces of men I am proud to fight beside. Ye are in this room because ye represent a village yerself. I ask ye to think what ye would have us do if it were yer village being starved; yer homes, yer families. I think ye will find that ye agree with my stance. Ye have vowed to fight alongside me, to chase after our common goal together. If my decision means that ye cannae fulfill that vow, I will nae hold it against ye.”

He paused and looked every man in the face, not giving them any room to hide.

“But for those of ye still willing to follow me, pick up yer swords and ready yer horses. We will make for Murray Castle and Campbell. We will go find our destiny ourselves. As for the rest of ye, feel free to watch from afar as we fight for yer freedom. There will be a great view of the battlefield from the ramparts. Ye can await the results there.”

Finn huffed, but the sound was drowned out by the cheering of Seamus' men. Their chairs scratched across the floor as they rose in a hurry, saluting to Seamus before filing out of the war room to prepare themselves for battle. In their wake, they left a very displeased Finn and his conflicted men.