Page 16 of The Mad Highlander

16

C ayden hadn’t wanted to leave Iris’ bed, but the council meeting took precedence over everything else. He had ensured he was in the room before anyone else—he wanted to look each of them in the eye as they entered. He needed to know who was truly loyal to him.

“Good mornin’,” Hunter said as he entered the room, the first of the council members.

“Nay, it’s nae a good mornin’, is it?”

“Force of habit,” Hunter replied. “How is she doin’?”

“She’s terrified.” Cayden shook his head and bit his bottom lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood touched his tongue.

Aye, she calms me fits of rage, but now that I’m nae by her side, I want to kill the bastards that did this.

The dungeons would be his next stop after the council meeting—a visit with McReed.

“She should be terrified,” Cayden continued. “If I hadnae got there in time, they might have killed her or defiled her. Or both.” Cayden tried not to think about it. “This is nae just an attack on Iris but an attack on me, the castle, and the clan. I fear this is only the beginnin’.”

Hunter didn’t have time to reply. The council members began filtering into the room, but instead of the usual excited voices bantering back and forth, there was muted conversation and hesitant glances toward Cayden. No man looked ready to take a stand until there had been a discussion.

“Take yer seats,” Cayden growled.

Murmurs and shuffling footsteps filled the hall, and Cayden had never heard it so quiet. The men were dwelling on the consequences of the attack, but they gave no sign of where their loyalties fell.

“Ye have all heard by now what happened yesterday.” Cayden stood up and stalked around the room. It was one thing to sit at the head of the large oak table and another completely to get close to the men. He wanted them to be scared and desperate. He needed them ready for war.

“Me Laird, what have ye done with McReed?” Alaister Duggan asked. He was far from the most influential man in the room, but he was one of the older council members and demanded some respect. “There are rumors ye’ve already taken his head.”

Cayden stopped on the other side of the table and placed his palms flat on the wood, staring directly at Alaister. “Nay, I havenae. Nae yet. I want to speak to him first, and then I’ll make me decision.”

“Yer decision?” There was a slight crack in Alaister’s voice as he challenged the Laird. “Ye willnae ask for a vote at council?”

“What would ye have me do?” Cayden demanded. “He tried to kill Iris. Ye are married, are ye nae?”

“Aye, for over twenty years.”

“What would ye do if someone tried to kill yer wife? Would ye nae want to take his head?”

Silence filled the room as the rest of the council members looked between the Laird and Alaister Duggan.

“I would kill anyone who hurt me family,” Alaister confirmed. “Still, I’d be sure first. I wouldnae jump into a fit of rage and take the first head I found.”

Cayden bit his tongue to stop himself from saying what he really wanted to say. He took a beat before he responded to the man. “Speak yer mind, Alaister. Do ye nae think McReed is the right head to take? Should I take someone else’s?” The Laird leveled Alaister with his gaze.

“Ye should deal with whoever is responsible.”

Cayden slammed his hands on the table. “I told ye to speak yer mind. We don’t have time for idle talk. Ye dinnae think McReed is behind this?”

“I dinnae ken,” Alaister admitted. “There is some talk that he was fingered for the crime because…”

Cayden rounded the table, and Alaister almost fell off his chair as he stood up. He raised his hands before him in surrender.

“Are ye accusin’ me of somthin’?” Cayden demanded.

“Nay, nay,” Alaister stammered. He looked around the room, and his weakness was obvious. “Let me speak, will ye?” he asked, trying to show some strength. “It is nae me talkin’, but others throughout the villages from what I can gather in such a short time.”

“And what do they say?” Cayden growled.

“They say that McReed has naethin’ to do with it and that ye might have put his name into the mouths of the attackers because of yer fightin’ at the last council meetin’.”

“Do ye think me a fool?” Cayden asked, stepping closer to Alaister.

“Nay, Cayden. Nay, I dinnae think that. I’m only relayin’ what I’ve heard.”

“Why would I invent such a thing when we are about to go to war?”

“Me men will follow ye into battle,” young Cameron Clarke announced as he stood on the other side of the table.

Cayden locked eyes with the young man, freshly out of his teens but with tenacity to match anyone at the table. It was a gesture with wisdom beyond the years of the lad. He would have made up his mind to join the fight before the meeting, and he had used the announcement to bring some levity to the room. The anger Cayden had toward Alaister subsided a little with the support of Cameron.

“I’m only tellin’ ye what people are sayin’,” Alaister muttered.

Duncan stood up next, hoisting up his breeches to cover part of his stomach. “Cayden, there is some cause for concern. Whether McReed was behind the attack or not, the reason for the attack is obvious.”

Cayden took one final look at Alaister before he left the man behind and returned to his chair at the head of the table.

“He thought he could stop the war,” Cayden noted.

“Aye,” Duncan agreed. “That’s the obvious motivation for the attack. If Iris is killed, ye have no reason to save her brother. One death to save many.”

“Then he underestimated me,” Cayden told them. “I made a promise to retrieve the lad, and I shallnae break that promise for any reason. I am nothin’ if nae a man of me word. Whoever wanted to stop the war has already sided with the Murdochs. If we do this me way, we dinnae need to go to war to save the lad. Still, if it turns to war against the Murdoch Clan, I want loyalty, not fear or misplaced trust. Young Cameron has already offered his sword. Alaister, ye seem to be talkin’ an awful lot without tellin’ us yer opinion. Are ye ready to fight with me against the Murdochs should it come to it?”

“I…” Alaister glanced over at Cameron, and he closed his eyes tight and pursed his lips for a second before he opened his eyes and shook his head. “Och, how can I nae fight now when the young lad offered so readily? I’m nay coward, Cayden. Aye, if it comes to a straight fight between our clans and the Murdochs, I will fight with ye.”

“Guid!” Cayden stated. He looked around the table and could see he was winning them over. Young blood had joined him, perhaps the feigned bravery of youth, but Cayden had used that to his advantage and added the man who had been the biggest detractor at the meeting so far. “Ye dinnae have to take me word for it about McReed. Iris and Robyn were there, and ye can speak to them, too. I dinnae like being called a fibber, but ye cannae call all three of us the same.”

“I can see what some of ye are still thinkin’,” Hunter chimed in. “Aye, the death of Iris might be enough to stop a war, but what if Laird O’Brien sent the men and blamed it on someone else to add fuel to the fire? That would be smart thinkin’, wouldn’t it? That’s nae possible in me mind, but I heard at least one person mention it this mornin’. Cayden needs nae reason to go to war with the Murdochs—he has already promised to save the lad. So, stop yer brutish thinkin’. We all ken McReed is behind this, and we all ken why.”

“Thank ye,” Cayden said. “Now, I am goin’ to speak with McReed, and I will make me decision after that. He tried to kill me wife, so it is me decision on what happens to him. Afore that, I want to hear from ye now. Either ye are with me, or ye are with the Murdochs. That is what it boils down to. If ye are nae prepared for war, should it come, then ye should leave the room right now. If ye will stand by me side as I have stood by yers all these years, then stay.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” a council member suggested.

“Aye, it is as simple as that,” Cayden said. He stood back up and looked around the room. “Where do yer loyalties lie?”

The silence crashed down in the room as Cayden towered above them. A few of them looked at the other council members, and some met Cayden’s eyes. Not one of them moved from their chairs.

“Guid men,” Cayden said before striding out of the room.

Cayden nodded to the man guarding the door, and the guard retrieved the key from his pocket and unlocked the stout wooden door. It swung inward with a screech.

Cayden walked past the guard and into the room. There was no window, and the only illumination came from the candle in the hallway where their guard stood. Yellow triangles flicked across the bare stone as the light entered the doorway and was cast across the room in straight lines.

McReed shielded his face. He quickly got up from his straw bed when he recognized the man entering. He had been fierce in the council meeting, surrounded by his peers, but here, he looked like a timid mouse caught before the castle cat. McReed stood up and tried to face Cayden, but he backed himself against the wall.

McReed’s eyes danced between Cayden’s face and the short sword hanging on the Laird’s belt. “Let me out of here!” From the way McReed had said it, it was obviously meant as a demand, but his emotions betrayed him, and it sounded like begging.

“Ye ken there is only one way ye are leavin’ this room,” Cayden replied.

“I havnae done anythin’.” McReed tried to stand up as tall as he could, but he was still a good six inches shorter than the Laird.

“Aye, ye have. I ken ye are behind this, McReed. There is naethin’ ye can say to me now to make me change me mind, and we both ken that. Ye havnae been framed for this, and I didnae conjure yer name to start a war. If ye leave this room or nae depends on ye. Ye ordered her killed in cold blood, and I should have yer blood in return, but I’m willin’ to make a compromise. Apologize to me now, and I willnae have yer head. Ye will live out yer days in the dungeon instead. Show me ye are nae sorry, and I will take yer head meself.”

McReed studied the Laird as he considered how he could get out of the prison. He opened his mouth and closed it, but no words came out.

“What say ye?” Cayden demanded.

McReed shook his head. “We cannae go to war.”

“So, ye admit it? Now, apologize to me. I will walk out of this room in a moment, and ye willnae have a second chance.”

McReed held the Laird’s gaze but still did not speak.

“Be it on yer own head, so to speak.” Cayden turned to leave.

“Nay, wait!”

Cayden spun around.

“Ye need to stop yer foolish war. I ken ye have found a lass, but that doesnae give ye the right to storm another laird’s castle. Ye dinnae ken the half of it, do ye?”

Cayden stepped back into the center of the room. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

“He’ll kill ye and the rest of yer clan then he’ll kill everyone who stood with ye. Ye might call me a coward, but I’ll live to fight another day.”

“So, that’s it? Ye think he will win? Ye are doin’ this to curry favor with Murdoch? Your show of faith willnae be rewarded. I have the backin’ of all the council members now, and they will be bolstered even more when they hear what ye had to say to me. Murdoch doesnae stand a chance against us united.”

“Aye, but he’s nae yer only enemy, is he?” McReed grinned, showing a blackened front tooth that was not usually visible when he smiled.

Cayden grabbed McReed by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the wall.

“What do ye ken, McReed? Who are me other enemies?”

“Ye’ll find out soon enough,” McReed said. “Ye’ll happily die for yer cause, and so will I. So, take me head, but I’ll die kennin’ I made the right choice.”

Cayden slammed McReed against the wall again. “Tell me!”

“I wouldnae want to ruin the surprise.”