Page 47 of Claimed by the Clan Chief

“Changelings are naught but sickly bairns, madam,” McTavish said. “Bairns who need healers to thrive, healers like my wife.”

“I do not believe this maid has a husband, and certainly not that you are he,” Rabbie said, pointing at Isla. “She is naught but a skinny wench with an evil face.”

“Are you calling my wife ugly?” McTavish raised his sword to Rabbie. “Are ye?”

Rabbie eyed the sword warily, then seeming to muster courage he puffed up his chest. “Aye, an ugly witch who I had to drag here.”

McTavish was quiet for a moment then, “Youdraggedher here?”

“Aye, for her trial.”

“There was no trial,” Isla cried out, her voice hoarse. “You accused me and found me guilty in one fell swoop.”

“Because it’s true, you are a witch!” Rabbie yelled, waggling a pointed finger at her.

“Youdraggedher here,” McTavish repeated.

“Aye, I dragged her, for the good of everyone in Laird McDonald’s land.”

“So that means youtouchedmy wife?” McTavish had spoken softly but Isla could hear the anger in his voice. It was a dangerous sound, one that tightened her chest and quickened her breaths.

Rabbie hesitated, then, “Aye, I touched her.”

“Roughly?”

“Hard to drag a witch to the pyre with sweetness.”

McTavish raised his sword, then quick as a flash he sliced it down on Rabbie’s outstretched arm. The limb was sliced clean off and landed on the ground with a thud.

Isla gulped at the spectacle.

The crowd gasped.

“You have been tried and punished for touching the woman I love.” McTavish turned from Rabbie who’d fallen to his knees, clutching a bloody stump. “Who else touched her?”

The crowd stepped backward, parting when McTavish wielded his red-stained sword at them.

“Come on, I’ll find out,” McTavish roared.

“No one,” a woman said. “I promise you, sir, only Rabbie Finlay manhandled your wife, sir.”

“But she spent a night here, I ken it won’t have been on a soft warm bed with a full belly.”

The woman looked away.

“I should slice off all of your arms for allowing her to have a cold night of fear in this godforsaken village of yours.” He marched to the right and held his face to the sky. “God’s bones, I’m devoting my life to this country and this is how you treat me.”

“Not you, sir, the witch.” An older man stepped forward. “We welcome you to our humble abodes.”

“You welcome me.” McTavish moved quickly up to him and set the sword at his throat.

The man’s eyes widened and he froze.

“Your idea ofwelcomeis to call my wife a witch?” He glanced at Isla. “And tie her up to tinder dry wood?”

“I… I…” The man glanced at Rabbie who was groaning and hunched over. “Perhaps a mistake has been made.”

“You are finally speaking sense.” McTavish removed the sword. “Go and untie her, now, or I will slice the arm off every man here, and don’t think that’s something I will nay do, because at this moment in my life, not only do I ken I could do it, I’d also enjoy it.”

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