Read Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set Online

Authors: Kathryn Loch

Tags: #Historical Medieval Scottish Romance

Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (61 page)

BOOK: Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set
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“I’ve seen him furious at us plenty,” Ronan said.

“Not like this, Ronan, he be ready tae kill.”

“What in the bloody hell happened?” Robert asked.

Ronan shoved Aidan forward. “Ye go look.”

“I willna go near him!”

“Ye be the only one who can get close without him seeing ye, the only one who can listen tae his words and remember all of them.”

Aidan glared at Ronan. “How easily ye toss yer brother in harm’s way.”

“Quit crying like a lassie, ye codswallop.”

Aidan clenched his fists and nearly took a swing at the cocky smile on Ronan’s face, but he restrained himself and walked away.

Their da still raged in the bailey on the other side of the building. Cautiously, Aidan peeked around the corner of the barracks. Da paced before him, waving his arms and snarling to himself as if he had indeed lost his mind. His face was so red it was almost purple. Dear God, Aidan had never seen his father in such a state. The others in the bailey gave their laird a wide berth. They didn’t stare at him; they didn’t want him to see them.

As Aidan watched his father, he grew more fearful. Da clutched a piece of vellum in his hand. It had red sealing wax on it, but Da waved it around so much Aidan couldn’t see any detail. The dark color on his face didn’t ease, and Aidan’s worry levered upward. He had seen Ronan’s blackouts, they were so very rare, but watching his father right now, Aidan wondered if Da could suffer the same . . . or something even worse.

Without thinking, he stepped forward. “Da,” he said gently. “Da, peace, what’s wrong?”

Da spun on his heel, snarling at him, his blue eyes burning with rage. Aidan slid to a stop, Mary have mercy, he acted as if possessed. “Da, please,” he whispered. “I . . . what is happening tae ye?”

Abruptly his da stopped and stared at his second son. The rage in his eyes dimmed but didn’t fade completely. There was something so intense and primal in his expression that Aidan suddenly feared he gazed upon an animal, not a man, and certainly not his father.

“Forgive me.” His voice was so guttural it sounded like a growl. “I didna mean tae frighten ye, lad.”

Summoning his courage and his faith in his father, Aidan stepped forward again and placed his hand on his da’s forearm. He thought he was growing well, but seeing his hand so small against his da’s powerfully muscled arm made him feel tiny and vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”

Da sucked in a deep, shaking breath and dragged his hand through his long graying hair. “We’ve been betrayed, laddie.”

“Betrayed?” He glanced around, expecting an assassin to emerge from the shadows.

Da appeared to bring his anger under better control. He held up the vellum still clutched in his fingers. With his free hand, he slowly reached out and gently gripped Aidan’s shoulder. Aidan fought the urge to flinch and relaxed when he felt his da’s fingers, warm and strong but gentle. “Come with me, laddie, this concerns ye anyway.”

“Me?” Aidan asked startled. “I didna do anything!”

His da almost smiled, the harshness of his face easing even more. “Not this time, laddie. At least, no’ yet.”

Aidan breathed a sigh of relief.

His father led him to a bench beside an old storage building and had him sit before taking his place beside him.

“I just received terrible news, and it came in this scroll. The bastard doesna even have the courage tae face me in person. He kenned what he did was wrong.”

“Who?”

“Robert Bruce believes we dinna show our support and respect of him as powerfully as we should.” He snorted then spat on the ground. “In truth, he’s currying Campbell’s favor because the laird is a mighty ally and has the potential for being an even worse foe.”

“What do ye mean?”

“Bruce has awarded a good portion of MacGrigor clan land tae Campbell, stole it right under our very noses, without warning and without cause.” As he spoke, his face darkened as his anger returned, and he clenched his fists.

Aidan could only blink at him stupidly for a moment. Why would Bruce do such a thing? But his father had just stated why. Still the question resounded in his heart; the reason wasn’t enough to stop it.

“Will it affect our standing, our ability tae feed our people?”

Da looked at him, startled, and again his expression eased. “Nay, laddie, he took plenty, but no’ so much tae cause our people harm.” He paused and drew another deep breath. “Aidan, the land he took . . . I was saving that for a special purpose. It was tae be yer inheritance.”

Aidan felt as if his father had slapped him. He had always known Ronan would gain their da’s title and control over the clan, including the castle they lived in now. But Aidan hadn’t given much thought to his own future. His father had encouraged him not to worry, he would not be forced into the church—Aidan was certain that would have killed him prematurely—Da had reassured him that he had Aidan’s future secured, so Aidan had not worried over it.

“My inheritance?”

“Aye. MacGrigor lands be no’ great, but there was enough that yer brother and ye could both gain a future. But the Bruce took it from us without so much as a by yer leave.”

Sheer terror shot through him, startling him because it was so unexpected. “What will I do now?”

Da’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “I dinna want ye worrying over this. No matter what, Aidan, yer family willna abandon ye. I will try tae negotiate for the return of the land, but I . . . I fear . . .”

Suddenly, Aidan’s future became a black unknown.

“I will find a solution tae this, laddie, I promise ye that. Ye understand me?”

Aidan swallowed hard and nodded. He saw the determination in his father’s gaze and had to pray he could keep his promise. How? Da was a good laird, and when he made a promise he kept it. Aidan had to believe in that.

But despite his faith, he knew the theft would change everything . . . 

 

 Aidan shook his head to loosen the grip of the memory. Da had kept his promise. It was not the solution they had hoped for or even expected. It did not involve an inheritance for his second son. Aidan gazed at the walls threatening to close in on him. Nay, it didn’t involve a home he could call his own, it didn’t involve Aidan eventually gaining a wife, it didn’t involve him having his own heirs.

But it was a future.

Not long after the Bruce confiscated their land, Aidan had attended court with his da and his brother. Ronan had sat next to his da, listening to various clan members bring cause before them requiring the laird’s decision. As training for his future role, it was Ronan who made the decisions with guidance from their da. Aidan had stood behind them in the shadows watching, so he too could learn . . . 

 

 Aidan battled not to fidget but his feet hurt from standing there doing nothing. His gaze flicked over the people in the hall, serious faces, serious voices, serious business . . . and it was boring him to tears.

His gaze then slid to a shadow along the wall, only a pace away. He flicked a glance at his father, but Da was focused on the men speaking before him, growing more surely in temper. Aidan released a gentle breath and eased one foot backward.

Ronan was also focused on the two men, scowling as he tried to keep up with their vehement conversation. His knuckles turned white on the arms of his chair.

Aidan’s second foot followed the first. One more step.

His da moved suddenly, nearly stopping Aidan’s heart, but he only lifted his hand to drag it through his hair. “Enough!” he roared at the two men.

Aidan moved again; the shadow swallowed him whole in an instant, and he grinned.

With Da’s temper engaged, it was doubtful he would turn his attention away from the two who vexed him, but Aidan dare not grow careless. Da would thrash him for shirking his duties if he discovered him. Aidan faded even deeper into the shadows.

He looked again at Ronan; no doubt his brother would much prefer to join him, exploring, chasing each other on the walls, terrifying their mum. No matter how hard their da tried to curb the brothers’ errant behavior, it only increased their camaraderie . . . and they had simply grown better at hiding.

Aidan almost felt sorry for Ronan and what he had to endure . . . almost.

There were entirely too many people in the great hall. It was hot, and the press of bodies only made it worse, right along with the odor. Saints have mercy, he kenned men worked and sweated and stank, but he was going to have to throw a few of them in a water trough just to breathe again.

Aidan flitted through the shadows, moving among people silently and without notice, fighting not to breathe unless he absolutely had to. But in the back of the great hall, where the shadows were the deepest, he spotted two forms. Curious, he moved closer, finding a dark alcove where he could listen. As Aidan settled in the dark recess, he recognized one man: a merchant who had unusually deep pockets.

Strange the two men did not focus on the issues addressed before the laird. Their conversation must be interesting indeed.

As Aidan listened, he suddenly realized the conversation was far more important than anything being discussed in court. He listened to the two plotting to betray their laird and his son, resulting in even more land going to Clan Campbell. Even more devious, the plot they devised would make it appear as Ronan’s error in court and place the fault on his shoulders.

Aidan waivered only a moment. Admitting he had slipped away to overhear the conversation would result in a thrashing, but he realized that wasn’t important. What was important was that Ronan, and especially Da, learned of this so they could stop it.

Continuing to stay in the shadows, Aidan returned to his place behind his father and brother. Moving silently, he stepped closer than he normally stood, but he was not obvious to the others in the hall.

His da spotted Aidan’s movement and turned his head as if to rebuke him, but Aidan softly whispered the conversation he had overheard. His da’s eyes slowly grew wider and wider as his face lost a bit of color, but upon hearing what Aidan had to say in its entirety, Da clenched his jaw and slowly rose to his full height, towering over the men in the room.

He didn’t roar or bellow as Aidan expected. Instead, the deadly calm of his voice, the soft gentle utterance of his words, terrified Aidan far more than the terrible rage he had witnessed not long ago.

Da’s manner relaxed, though his fists remained clenched, and his voice even, he stopped the men before him and called the merchant and his cohort before his chair—a chair that had his claymore resting against it.

Aidan could not believe how his father managed to stay in such control as he asked them the truth of this strange rumor he had heard, how they had plotted against him, although he had never wronged either of them in any way.

Their stammering excuses, conflicting explanations, and how their faces turned so dreadfully white revealed their lies so plainly. Unable to refute their laird, they admitted the plot and begged his mercy.

Da finally let loose his rage. With a low growl, he seized his claymore before anyone realized he had moved. The massive blade glittered and sparked in the light of the hall as he easily wielded it with one hand.

In a single heartbeat, and with one powerful swing, two heads rolled on the floor. Blood streamed from the bodies, but they were slow to topple, as if they didn’t truly realize they were dead.

His da slowly lowered his claymore and glared at every man in the hall in turn. “I will stand in battle for every last one of ye, I will work beside ye, I shall laugh with ye, I shall cry with ye, I shall pray with ye. But I will slay anyone who betrays me or my sons. Any who plots against me, plots against my clan, those I have vowed tae protect. My blade will end that threat.”

On that day, Aidan’s future had changed yet again.

After the plot had been defeated, their da had brought Aidan and Ronan to his solar and praised the actions of his second son.

“As laird, I must make decisions that affect not only our house but our entire clan, decisions that can ripple outward like a stone thrown into a pond tae touch the clans around us, even ranking nobility. But I canna make good decisions without information, and Aidan, ye have just demonstrated talent at gaining that information. Ronan, someday ye will be making these same decisions. I canna encourage ye enough tae listen tae what yer brother learns. Aidan, I also canna stress enough tae find the truth behind everything ye learn. False assumptions can lead tae as dire consequences as no information at all. The most important thing is that ye lads work together. For the ability tae recognize yer assets, Ronan, will be the most powerful skill ye can possess as a laird.” One hand gripping Aidan’s shoulder, the other Ronan’s, their da studied them a long moment. “If the MacGrigor brothers stand in defense of each other, this clan will prosper, I promise ye that.”

Glowing with his father’s praise, a young Aidan had thrown himself into becoming exactly what his da willed.

His new future had not become that of an inheritance or being forced into the church. But it possessed a freedom Aidan cherished. He could travel; he could meet people he never imagined to encounter. Unlike the laird, who had to stay to govern his people, to guide and direct them, Aidan could journey the land, learning the information Ronan needed to protect their people.

Unfortunately, the tiny room was a part of it as well.

Aidan rubbed his eyes again and growled a curse. Why was he focusing on this? There was no going back and changing it. He looked up at the door, still partially open. Beyond that, shadows lined the corridor.

Aidan’s gaze then locked on an outline in the deep shadow. But instead of growing alarmed, his lips lifted. “Bloody hell, Gordy, I taught ye that trick. I can see ye as plain as day.”

The man stepped from the shadow and into the open door, grinning at him. “Ye can, but others canna.”

“Aye, just dinna grow careless, for if ye become any more obvious, I’ll start tossing things at ye. Pointy things made of steel and sharp edges.”

Gordy laughed and fought to enter the room, closing the door behind him and struggling not to trip over the chest while simultaneously trying to step around Aidan to gain the chair. “Yer brother be in his solar.”

BOOK: Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set
5.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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