Page 59 of Bride of the Mad Laird
He went on to describe how his guards had been able to track down the miscreants. “All of them wore kilts in our plaid.”
Another younger man, who Tòrr recognized as another from the Isle of Ulva, raised his voice.
“So what this means is that MacDougall has already declared war. We cannae accept his men entering the castle, in disguise, fer the purpose of abducting a guest of our clan.” He thumped his fist on the table for emphasis.
This was met with a loud murmur of agreement that inched Tòrr’s spirits up a tad.
After this, there were calls for information about their allies and what numbers could be recruited to stand against the MacDougalls. Tòrr called upon Edmund to answer.
“I’ve already requested our local lads to gather and they’ll be here within days. Word has been sent tae the clans MacNeill, MacLeod and MacKinnon of Pabay, who have all pledged themselves as our allies.”
“But these are new allies. Will they hold, in face of a greater adversary?”
Tòrr rose to his feet to respond. “All these are allied wi’ our Clan through kinship. We are strong in our alliances and each of our allies is against MacDougall. I also intend tae write Clan MacInnes to ask fer help tae protect the Lady Lyra.” Several members nodded in approval at that declaration.
“Further, since King Robert took the throne of Scotland, MacDougall’s position is weakening. He supported Balliol against the king and he stands tae lose much of his wealth and lands.”
Another grey-hair stood to challenge him. “Aye, but if MacDougall is weakening, will that nay make him even more determined tae enter a marriage with the Lady MacInnes? She is heir tae substantial lands on the mainland which would be of great benefit tae MacDougall.”
“And they will be of great benefit tae the MacKinnons.” Tòrr said firmly. “Fer I intend tae wed the lady meself.”
At this, the hall dissolved into an uproar. Some folded arms and shook their heads, others poured tankards of ale and raised them. The cry of “Slàinte mhath,” rang out.
Edmund was grinning.
"Very clever lad. Clearly, yer stated aim of marriage with Lady Lyra has met with approval. At least among the younger ones. Their eyes lit up like beacons as the idea of expanding our lands caught fire. They'll nae resist the opportunity of thumbing their noses at MacDougall and building a new alliance wi’ a powerful clan.”
Tòrr’s grin widened. “If nothing else, I believe me marriage will buy us time. Once the word reaches MacDougall, he will make his own preparations. Yet it will take him some time tae assemble his forces if they are tae outnumber those of Dùn Ara and our allies.
“Before he advances we will assemble our men and reinforce the castle, and our allies will travel across the seas tae join us.”
Encouraged by nods of agreement all round, Tòrr decided to put the matter to the vote and have it decided once and for all.
Once the gathering had finally quietened, he made his announcement. “Those in favor of me marriage tae the Lady Lyra MacInnes, please raise yer right hand.”
To his great relief almost all hands were raised. Some were hesitant but eventually it was clear the majority supported his edict. The few dissenters were those he’d anticipated. Several of the older Council members and only one of the younger members.
Someone again raised a hand. “Now we’re agreed ye’re tae wed, the banns must be published without delay.”
Tòrr nodded. This would mean his wedding could not take place for at least three weeks. But it could not be helped. No priest would be prepared to officiate at a wedding if the banns had not been published and it was proven that no impediment to the marriage existed.
He brought the meeting to a close, with each of the chiefs heading back to home with promises to arm and return at once should they be called upon.
Basking in the glow of his success, Tòrr was happy to reassure all members of the Council that he was certain MacDougall would now accept that the Lady Lyra would never be his, and cease his threats and the prospect of war would diminish.
Night was falling as Edmund and Tòrr farewelled the last of the Council. All of them, even those who had not raised their hands in assent, wished him well and promised to attend the wedding in three weeks’ time.
Once the gate had closed behind them, Tòrr and Edmund adjourned to Tòrr’s study to discuss plans. Neither of them had any illusions that MacDougall would give up his pursuit of Lyra and that war would be averted for long.
“We have three weeks in which tae keep the Lady Lyra safe. She must be under guard at all times. We cannae risk another incursion from MacDougall’s men. And I swear the man will stop at naething tae carry out his plans.”
“Now,” said Edmund, as Tòrr poured them each a wee dram of whisky. “All that is left is the small matter of persuading the Lady MacInnes that ‘tis ye she should wed, rather than the MacDougall.”
Tòrr gave a rueful laugh and raised his glass. “Slàinte mhath.”
After fortifying himself with a few more splashes of whisky, Tòrr made his reluctant way to the Lyra’s bedchamber. He knew he must apprise her without delay of what had taken place at the meeting, ye he quailed at the prospect. She’d made it clear that the prospect of wedding MacDougallor any manwas not what she wished. She had, more than once, told him in no uncertain terms that what she wanted, above all, was to return to her clan lands and make her own choices about how she would live out her life.
He wiped clammy hands on his kilt.
