Page 21 of Highlander Redeemed
Duncan tried not to smile, but he had to admit he felt a bit of awe at Scotia’s gift himself.
“They are MacGregors of Loch Awe,” Kenneth said quietly to Nicholas. “Dermid MacGregor speaks for them.”
Nicholas nodded, but never took his eyes off the new arrivals as he strode to meet them. Malcolm, his new champion, followed one step behind and on his left.
“We welcome you, MacGregors of Loch Awe, and thank you for joining us. We offer you the hospitality of Clan MacAlpin of Dunlairig, such as we can.”
A growl came from Kenneth, and Duncan was surprised when Uilliam’s deep voice came calm and quiet, “Hold, Kenneth. Hold. Let him finish first.”
It was only then that Duncan noticed, first, Kenneth’s clenched fists, and second, a familiar blond lad who liked to dally withScotia. Duncan must have made a noise of some sort when he recognized Conall, for Uilliam growled at him.
“Dinna move a muscle, lad, or say anything,” Uilliam commanded. “Either of you.” He directed this back at Kenneth. “We shall deal with Conall MacGregor once they show that Nicholas has their respect.”
“Are there others behind you?” Nicholas asked.
“Nay,” the one called Dermid said. “Others chose to engage the English as they came from the coast, harrying them in the hopes of whittling down their numbers before they could get here. There were at least two score of the Sassenach bastards that arrived by ship. They were hard upon our heels for a short while, but their pace has been sorely slowed.” He grinned, clearly pleased that the English were not easily making their way across Scotland.
“You did not lead them here.” It was a command, not something Duncan had heard from Nicholas before.
“We were careful, MacAlpin. I gathered those I could as I journeyed here, as Kenneth bade me do.” He nodded at the old chief. “We are all that could be spared with English crawling across our lands.”
Nicholas’s head bobbed slowly up and down as he surveyed the far smaller contingent of allies than they had hoped would arrive. Just as the silence was drawing taut between Nicholas and Dermid, Nicholas stepped forward and surprised everyone.
“You,” he said, clearly looking at Conall.
The young man looked Nicholas calmly in the eye, though he had noticeably not done the same with Kenneth. “Aye?”
“I have seen you before.” Nicholas stopped, as if he were trying to remember, but Duncan knew the ex-spy well enough now to know ’twas for show, though he knew not where the two might have met. Nicholas forgot nothing, no matter how inconsequential. ’Twas a valuable skill in a spy and a chief. “Ah. I remember. You were below the curtain wall at Dunlairig Castle the day it fell.”
Conall started to deny it, but Nicholas cocked his head and the young man went quiet. Duncan could only imagine the look Nicholas must be giving him, for Conall went even paler than he’d started.
“You were with Scotia MacAlpin, my wife’s cousin. I searched for you in the rubble after the wall came down.”
Kenneth growled this time, his words lost in the sound, but Uilliam had a hand clamped to his shoulder, holding him firmly in place.
Nicholas did not appear to notice Kenneth’s reaction. “’Tis glad I am to see you hale and whole. Rowan was very concerned that you might have been caught in the wreckage.” He cocked his head the other way, and Conall shifted on his feet, as if he could not decide whether to stand his ground or flee. “She also told me your life was forfeit if you were caught with Scotia again.” Conall blanched so much his freckles stood out like spatters of crimson blood. “You were caught, by Rowan, and by me. As I am chief here now, ’tis my duty to take your life.”
Duncan swallowed an oath. What was Nicholas thinking? They needed these men on their side in the coming battle. As much as he did not want Conall here—and the thought of the randy lad chasing after Scotia raised an ire he was not proud of—there were bigger troubles to consider, and Duncan would do as he’d always done, though clearly not always well. He would watch over Scotia like a hawk.
The other MacGregors bristled at Nicholas’s statement, two of them going so far as to draw their dirks.
“Put your blades away,” Nicholas said, though he did not take his eyes off Conall. “I have no intention of carrying out this sentence right now.”
“Never!” one of the MacGregors said.
“That depends upon Conall”—he turned and looked back at Kenneth—“and Kenneth.” He speared the auld chief with a lookthat shocked Duncan. He knew Nicholas was capable of anything—as a spy in King Edward’s employ he would have had to do many things he might not choose to do in his new life as chief. So far at least. This look said Nicholas was in complete control, that he had stepped fully and confidently into his position as chief of this clan, and that he expected Kenneth to respect whatever Nicholas was up to with Conall. Kenneth glared at Nicholas, but gave him a slight nod and said nothing.
Nicholas returned his glare to Conall. “Do you give your word that you will do as I bid, putting the protection of this clan and indeed, the entire Highlands, first in your thoughts and your actions for as long as you bide here with us?”
To Conall’s credit, he straightened his back, dropped his shoulders, and faced the chief like a warrior. “Of course I do. ’Tis why I am here. The MacAlpins have long been our allies, and we are joined by many common kinfolk. You have my word that I am here as a warrior in the service of the Targe and its Guardians.”
The other allies nodded their agreement, as Nicholas stared into the eyes of each man. “I have the same oath from each of you?”
“Aye!” they all said at once.
“Then I welcome you and thank you for coming to our aid in this fight. You are invited to partake of our hospitality, as much as we can offer, and in return for your service you have my oath that should you ever require it, you have but to call upon us and we will come to your aid.”
“And Conall’s life?” Dermid demanded.
