Page 6 of The Bells of Triumph (Highlands’ Lost Valley #3)

5

A CHANGE OF PLANS

“ M ake sure ye brush them all verra well. And see to their shoes. If any of them show the smallest problem, replace it with another. We will be riding hard and fast for several days. I cannae afford to have a horse go lame.”

Finn crossed his arms over his chest as he gave the orders to the grooms. Some part of him knew that his presence in the Drummond Castle stables only served as a distraction, but he was so restless that the thought of staying inside for another moment had him ready to rip his hair out.

He hadn't slept since Brid was taken by Connor. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he hadn't been able to sleep long before that. Visions of the inside of the Murray Castle dungeon and the battle in the Lost Valley haunted him. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was a sword being rammed into Rolland's chest, blood pouring from the older man's mouth.

Chief Rolland had been the father that Finn had lost a lifetime ago, the father Finn always wanted. And now, the man was dead all because of Seamus and his inability to do anything right.

He knew that Flora and Brid were expecting him to go to Aberfeldy Village, to attend the meeting Seamus was hosting to try to gather recruits and position them for battle. But after everything that happened at the monastery, after Connor snuck Brid out of the castle out from under Finn's nose, he didn't see how anyone could think he would ever trust a Murray. Though the meeting was still days away, he had made his mind up not to go almost as soon as they had left the monastery. He had yet to share any of his plans with the others, however.

Finn began to wonder how Chief Rolland had ever managed to lead the Lost Valley. With no one to trust, no one to turn to for help, Finn felt nearly immobile from the weight of things. Yet, the Chief had managed to lead the village with ease.

“Aye, but he only had to face Campbell once,” Finn muttered to himself. “He spent years in hiding, without ever truly pursuing change.”

“Did ye say something, sir?”

Finn looked up at the stable boy from underneath his eyelashes, not bothering to so much as lift his head to answer to the boy.

“Why? Are ye particularly interested in my thoughts? Are ye hoping to catch a snippet of my plans so ye can report them to Campbell? Or Seamus?”

The boy blinked in shock and disbelief.

“N-nay, sir. I j-just thought I heard ye say something.”

Finn picked up his chin then, moving until he was close enough to the boy that he had to look down his nose at him. He watched as the boy swallowed hard, his eyes darting from one side of the room to the next, but no one dared to step in on the boy's behalf.

“Ye should be more focused on doing yer job than fretting over what I am doing.”

The words landed in a spat just as Finn turned his head to inspect the horse. He took a hand and ran it over the side and down the flank of the beast, inspecting the boy's work.

“Look at this!” Finn nearly shouted. “I told ye to do yer best work. I told all of ye how important it was that these horses are well maintained if we are to succeed at the task ahead of us. And yet, ye have missed this spot entirely. I doubt ye cleaned his shoes or bothered to brush out his mane before ye braided it.”

“I-I did, si-sir,” the boy stammered, irritating Finn all the more.

“I dinnae believe ye. Give me the brush, I will do it myself.”

Finn held out his hand and took the brush with a jerk. He knew that the other groomsmen were watching, but he didn't care. Dismissing the boy with a wave of his hand, he set about preparing his horse himself.

“Cannae trust anyone,” he muttered as he worked the brush over his horse's coat.

For a time, Finn lost himself in his task. He let the work of his fingers, brushing and braiding, soothe his clouded mind. It was a reprieve from the constant buzz in his head, demanding that he track Campbell down to exact his revenge. For a moment, he wasn't thinking about his plans or how he would convince the others to do his bidding. For a moment, he could pretend that he was that same boy he had once been, fighting and frolicking in the glen with Flora. But the moment never lasted long before it was interrupted. Sometimes by his own thoughts and memories, sometimes of someone else, as it was now.

“Sir,” a young rebel greeted with the seriousness of untried youth, “I am sorry to interrupt?—”

“Then dinnae.”

A beat of silence was followed by the shuffling of feet. Finn sighed and tied off the end of the braided tail before looking at the man.

“What is it?” Finn demanded, though his words lacked the same bite he had had minutes earlier.

The boy cleared his throat and clasped his hands together behind his back, straightening to his full height.

“The rest of the fighters have gathered, as ye requested. They are all awaiting ye to join them in the war room.”

Finn didn't deign to respond as he stomped off towards the castle. It was a meeting he had been putting off until the last possible moment. He knew that they would not like what he had to say. He knew they would argue and push back against his plans, but he also knew that this was the only way forward.

“Men,” he called out in greeting, striding through the room to the empty seat at the head of the table. “Please, sit with me.”

“We were nae sure why ye called us here,” the man directly to his right admitted, the rest of the room too quiet and timid to say anything. “We thought it might be to start making the necessary preparations to travel to Aberfeldy Village.”

“Aye. The meeting is only in a few days and if we are to make it there on time?—”

“I ken when the meeting is,” Finn said, cutting the second man off.

He hadn't bothered to learn their names, rather he chose them all to be here tonight after watching the way they operated within Drummond Castle. Of course, several faces were familiar, having been in the Lost Valley together. But there were too many new recruits to try to keep up with. So Finn hadn't bothered to deal with any of them. Not until now

“I ken when Seamus has summoned us, just as I ken how long it will take us to get there.” His words were harsh and full of the bitterness he felt. “I called this meeting to inform ye that we will nae be going.”

The room grew hushed and confused, as the men looked at each other in bewilderment.

“What do ye mean,” the man on his right spoke up again, “that we are nae going?”

“I mean just that. It has recently come to my attention that things are nae what they appear to be.”

Finn stood and began walking circles around the others, pacing behind them, peering over them.

“I ken ye all to be reasonable, sensible men. I ken that ye dinnae wish to be under Campbell's rule any longer, for he is a tyrant. He has stolen so much from us over the years—our money, our land, our families. But I would challenge ye to think bigger than that.”

He stopped, placing his hands on the back of the chair of the man who had been bold enough to speak up.

“Aye, Campbell has caused us a great many problems, but who let him in? Who allowed this tyrant to enter our lands and steal from us without putting up any resistance?”

“Laird Murray,” a single voice uttered.

“Precisely. Murray the Coward sold us out and let us suffer for years without doing anything about it. I dinnae ken about ye, but I am nae keen to let his son come in a rule over us now when he is verra likely to do the same things.”

Finn paused, letting his words sink in, watching them take the desired effect on the men listening. He had learned his lesson of what trusting a Murray would do. He had believed it when Seamus had promised to get him out of the dungeon. But it was Liam and Errik and Flora who had been his rescuers while Seamus hid away in his cushy tower. Finn had believed Seamus when he had promised to fight alongside Rolland against Campbell. But that had only gotten Rolland killed, while Seamus had run away from the battle. The final straw had been when Finn trusted that Seamus and Flora were going to do what was best for Brid. He had felt that they understood when they did nothing to stop her from going with him to Drummond Castle. But still, they sent Connor to influence Brid, to turn her against him. Trusting Seamus had cost him everything, and it was a mistake he wouldn't make again.

“If we go to this meeting, if we join our forces with his, then when Campbell is defeated, we will all be sitting under his rule. It is hard to believe that it is better to be led by a coward than a tyrant. I would have neither of them.”

“What are ye suggesting we do then?”

“We go after Campbell ourselves.”

Some of the men visibly swallowed, but Finn wasn't going to be put off of his plans.

“We have enough men here that if we are wise with our forces, if we keep the element of surprise on our side, then Campbell will nae stand a chance. We will be ruthless with him, as he has been with us. By the time I am finished, nae a single one of his men will be left standing.”

“How do we do that? Murray Castle is impossible to sneak up on. His guards will see us coming from miles away.”

Finn tried not to roll his eyes at the question. He had to remind himself that though he had spent weeks thinking through his plan, the rest of the men had only minutes to consider it.

“That is why we will nae go to Murray Castle first. I have learned my lesson there, trust me.”

The men looked around uncomfortably, clearly unsettled by the thought of his time spent in captivity. He couldn't blame them. Thinking of his time in those dungeons still got under his skin, not that he could ever let it show. The last thing he wanted to do was to give the impression that he was weak or afraid. He had let Campbell get the better of him once already, he wasn't going to do it again.

“Clearly ye have thought about this,” the oldest man in the room said without a hint of sarcasm. “Tell us yer plan so that we may decide what to do.”

Finn wanted to snarl at the man. He wanted to shout, “how dare ye” and lecture them all about who was really in charge here. He did his best to temper his response, but it still came out sharper than he intended.

“What makes ye think that any of ye have the authority to decide what the rest of the men are doing?”

“Is that nae what ye called us in to do?” the same man questioned, resting his elbows on the edge of the table.

“In case any of ye have forgotten, please allow me to remind ye. Until a month ago, none of ye here were fighters. Ye were farmers or tradesmen struggling to make ends meet. If ye had held a sword, it had been decades since ye last used it. None of ye were even thinking about going to war against Campbell until Chief Rolland and our rebels planted the thought in yer head.”

“That may be true but?—”

“But nothing. I have spent my entire life preparing for this. While ye have been plowing fields and smelting iron, I have been training to fight and studying battle plans. I have sat under the greatest battle strategists this clan has ever seen. I ken how they think, I ken what they would have done, had they been here.”

“But they are nae here.”

Finn leveled a glare at the man foolish enough to say such a thing.

“Nay. They are nae here.” The man swallowed hard and averted his gaze, bringing the slightest hint of a smile to Finn's lips as he continued. “That is why I am the one making the plans. I did nae call ye here today to give ye all my plans so that one of ye can run to Campbell or Seamus and betray me. I called ye here so that ye could do yer job—prepare the others to do exactly as I say.”

The room grew silent enough that Finn could hear the shaky breath of the man whose chair he still had in his grip. For a split second, Finn thought of how proud Rolland would have been to see the way that Finn had managed to take charge and lead the room. But that air of sentimentality could only last for so long before he had to get back to the task at hand.

“So we are to ken nothing about what we are walking into?”

Finn sighed. His hand scrubbed over his face as he contemplated his options. While he loathed the idea of a single one of these men escaping to rat out their plans to either of Finn's enemies, he also knew that he couldn't ask the men to follow him entirely blindly. He would have to share some of his plan, even if it was just the first step.

Moving back around the table and slinking into his chair, Finn let out another sigh. Feigning nonchalance, he rested an elbow on the arm of his chair and cradled the side of his head in his hand.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Fine. I will tell ye, but I expect that these plans dinnae leave this room.”

He stared down the men one by one, not moving on to the next until he had their nod of agreement.

“We are going to have to get closer to Campbell if we are to overtake him, but we cannae simply hide out in the woods. We need more of a stronghold than that. We need something that will force his hand.”

“Like what?”

“Glenkirk Castle. If we can take over the castle as we have done here, then we will control entrance into one of Campbell's villages. We will isolate the village entirely. There will be no trades, in or out. By barricading them in, the village will eventually run out of supplies. The villagers will grow angrier and angrier, the hungrier they get. Eventually, they will rise against Campbell with us.”

He paused, watching to gauge their reactions to his plan. Though hesitant, they all seemed to be on board with his plans.

“We will ride out within the hour. Have all men in the castle, warriors, and servants alike, prepare themselves. This will require all of us.”

He stood from his chair and stalked towards the door, ready to make the final preparations needed.

“But what happens when?—”

“We have been over this,” Finn cut off, not bothering to look back to see who was arguing with him. “It is nae yer job to question the plans. It is simply yer job to carry out yer orders. I will be the one to create our battle strategies, as I am the only one here qualified to do that. And right now, yer orders are to prepare the men. I will nae repeat myself. Is that understood?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Aye.”

“Right away, sir.”

The others echoed the same sentiment, albeit a little less enthusiastically. Finn didn't care whether they were enthusiastic or not. He doubted that any man was ever jumping at the bit to go to war. This was simply a task that needed doing, and he was going to see that it was accomplished.

As he instructed, all the men within Drummond Castle, save for those imprisoned, were packed and on their horses in an hour's time. Finn sat in his own saddle at the front of the courtyard, looking out on the gathered crowd. It had begun to drizzle. The mist soaked made everything a bit damp while the chill in the air blistered against Finn's cheeks. Steam from the horses' flanks rose into the air, giving off the smell of straw and oats. It was as if his mind wanted to soak in every detail of the day that he could. It was a momentous occasion that he didn't want to forget.

“For too long,” he called out, his voice rising above the clamor of the crowd, “we have sat under the fear of Campbell.”

The crowd hushed as they turned their attention to him.

“Well, I say nay more!” Cheers erupted until Finn put his hand in the air to silence them. “Each and every one of ye has a duty, a responsibility to fulfill. We will rise and protect our homes, our families. We will fight until there is nae a single drop of blood left in any of our veins. We will stop at nothing to see that we are victorious. Now, let's ride!”