Page 63 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

Raven’s warm-hearted welcome and the brief confession of her own journey’s difficulties were enough to ease Aileen’s doubts. She began her tale as it had started, with the Laird Andrew Sutherland’s command that she capture Laird Everard MacNeil and bring him to Dunrobin.

There was only a gasp from Raven, who leaned forward, her eyes alight, waiting for the story to unravel.

She had only arrived at the part of the tale covering their sojourn at the Flying Fish tavern when the maids entered bearing their midday meal – trays of sweetmeats, bannocks and jam, and slices of cold chicken and boiled eggs.

Aileen paused in the telling so they could partake of their meal. Once the last of the dishes had been cleared away and collected by the kitchen maids, Raven urged her to continue.

“So, at the tavern was the first time ye conversed alone wi’ me braither?”

“Nae really, we had had a few exchanges on the birlinn, but it was then that I learned what a gentle soul was hiding beneath all those fierce images that adorn his body. For the first time I felt me soul could be redeemed and that I was nae disfigured and hideously ugly as I’d believe meself tae be.”

“Aileen, ye’re beautiful. I daresay me braither was captivated and could think of aught else but yer beauty and strength.”

“Mayhap.” Aileen chuckled. “Methinks ye are naught but a romantic at heart, Raven. Wishing tae hear naught but tales of love.”

“Well,” Raven huffed, “this story of yers speaks of danger and adventure, risk and terrible adversity, but I suspect it is love between ye and my braither that is truly what brought you through.”

“It may be that we lassies believe that tae be so, but our menfolk will always believe it is swordsmanship, courage and cunning that prevail.”

“Ye are right, of course.” Raven laughed. “It is all of it, but love is the most powerful. Whether it is love between a man and a woman, or other kinds of love. A mother for her weans, siblings, friends, soldiers for each other, or love of the king and our land. But it is always love.”

This was a new way for Aileen to look at the world. “I like what ye say. I think ye may well be right.”

Am I really in love with Maxwell?

They whiled away the next hours as Aileen told the story, answering Raven’s questions and hearing a little more of Raven’s own adventures and heartache.

When it came to the final chapter, Raven had insisted on hearing every detail of their flight from Skye to Barra and the battle with the men on Sutherland’s birlinn. Raven leaped to her feet and paced the floor, passing from one side of the room to the next, wringing her hands.

“Sutherland’s men are on our doorstep.” Her voice shook with this realization.

“Aye. I fear Maxwell and myself have led them tae Barra.”

Raven shook her head. “’Tis nae matter. It is Sutherland who has caused this disorder. If Everard has been taken captive, our men will go tae war. If Everard has eluded his capture, Sutherland will come here sooner or later and there will be war nonetheless. The MacNeils will never allow their chief to be abducted or our lands and men to be menaced by another clan.” Raven turned to face Aileen, the glint of a tear on her cheek. “Nae matter what, while the Laird Andrew Sutherland lives, will be war.”

All at once Aileen desperately needed to speak with Maxwell. She could only agree with Raven’s understanding of the situation. Sutherland’s hubris may have led him to underestimate the determination and pride of the MacNeils. Yet, if there should be all-out war between the clans, the MacNeils were sorely outnumbered. While she had no doubt they would fight with great skill having Maxwell as their War Chief, Sutherland commanded a great fleet and many more men at arms than the MacNeils could muster. Mayhap they could call for support on the MacLeods of Skye, Sutherland’s swornenemies but, even so, there would be terrible bloodshed and many lives would be lost.

The responsibility for all this lay heavily on her heart. If only there was some way she could forestall the turmoil to come. Yet she knew Sutherland would never accept her escape with Maxwell from Dunrobin Castle. His pride and arrogance would have led him to believe the two of them could never escape. Yet that was exactly what they had achieved.

He would be out for vengeance with an awful tenacity that would keep him hunting them no matter where they tried to hide. His men would invade Castle Kiessimul once he had assembled his army and made ready for the attack.

She had to find a way to prevent the all-out war that would result from Sutherland’s revenge.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Maxwell completed his ablutions with all speed. He donned fresh clothing, combed the fierce tangles out his hair and tied it at his nape in a leather strip and went in search of his sister.

Raven was not there but, in her stead, he found her husband, Arne MacLeod, brother to the Viking Laird of Skye, Haldor Macleod. Maxwell and Arne greeted each other like brothers.

“Dunbar sent word that ye were here,” Arne made a mock punch at Maxwell’s shoulder. “Ye dinnae ken how good it is to see ye alive and looking almost none the worse fer wear…” He scanned Maxwell from head to toe, “… although, lad, I think ye could dae wi’ a bit more meat on yer bones.”

Maxwell grinned, eyeing Arne’s powerful form. “How much meat would be on yer bones if ye’d eaten naught but a skinny rabbit fer the past weeks?”

They joshed each other for a few more moments but then Maxwell grew serious. “I need tae learn what has happened since I was, er, taken on board Sutherland’s birlinn.”

Arne shook his head gravely. “Cousin James sailed to us from Ullapool to bring the news of yer disappearance. He and yer men had searched fer ye fer days. As we discovered later, naebody in the village wished to break silence, they were all too afeared of the wrath of Andrew Sutherland.” He threw up his hands in a gesture of disgust.

“How did they find out where I’d been taken?”

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