It pleased Cailin that they’d cared for her first. He met the fierce leader’s gaze. “Where can we go to speak privately?”
“We will speak here.” Taog glanced at his men before his gaze leveled on Cailin. “There is naught here that we keep from the other.”
Nor could he fault him on his method, ’twas one the Templars used as well. The knowledge, wisdom of many shared gave insight into decisions for battle. Cailin nodded and withdrew his sword.
The scrape of steel hissed as the men sitting around them shoved to their feet, their blades drawn.
Fury blazed in Taog’s eyes. “A threat?”
“Nay, proof—” Hilt first, Cailin handed the broadsword to their leader “—that I am Cailin MacHugh, the rightful Earl of Dalkirk.”
Taog studied the sword. Firelight glinted off the weapon as he raised it for all to see. “The hilt bears the Dalkirk coat of arms.” His gaze cut to Cailin before shifting back to his men. “This broadsword disappeared after Cailin supposedly died at sea.”
“He looks alive enough to me,” one ofthe men joked.
Laughter rumbled through the group, and a smile touched their leader’s mouth. “Aye, it does appear as if he is breathing, and,” he said, the humor on his face fading, “his eyes are the same color as his father’s.” He leveled his gaze on Cailin. “Who took your father’s sword from Tiran Castle after yourdisappearance?”
“A highly respected man,” Cailin replied, “and one who, like me, holds naught but distrustfor my uncle.”
“I would know the man’s name,” Taog stated.
Cailin shook his head. “He is too important to risk anyone within the earl’s ranks discoveringhis identity.”
At the murmurs of dissent, Elspet set her food aside and stood. Slowly, she looked each man in the eye, then lay her hand over her heart. “I can vouch for the man of whom Sir Cailin speaks and swear that Sir Cailin is indeed the rightful Earl of Dalkirk, and an honorable man, oneyou can trust.”
Those within camp gave him hard looks, but he noted some slowly nod their acceptance.
She was a sight to behold, and despite their heated arguments and her stubbornness to heed his will, he couldn’t help but feel moved by her passionaterecommendation.
“Your reason for coming here is to reclaim your legacy,” Taog said, “but doesna explain why you seek us out.”
Cailin met his shrewd gaze. “I need men who will swear fealty to me tojoin my ranks.”
Taog arched a skeptical brow as he handed Cailin the broadsword. “You are believing that you can convince us.”
He sheathed hisblade. “I am.”
“Why should we?” the Romani asked.
“To serve justice to a man who would burn hardworking families from their homes—” Cailin allowed the anger at his uncle’s treachery to infuse his words, “—and hang Sir Angus McReynolds with a false claim, and pay to have his nephew be murdered.”
A slim man cleared his throat. “We heard Sir Angus was caught poaching.”
Elspet shoved to her feet. “A lie. You knew my stepfather. He was a man of honor and would rather starve than take what belonged to another.”
Murmurs rippled through the groupin concurrence.
“I never believed the charge,” an elderly man near theback piped up.
“Nor I,” a young woman sitting next to him said.
“Sir Angus McReynolds might have skirted the law on occasion,” Taog said, “but he was aman of honor.”
A roar of agreement sounded.
The Romani leader raised his hand, and his people grew silent. He arched a brow at Cailin. “What benefit would it be to us to have you as the Earl of Dalkirk?”
“Because, as Elspet said, I am a man you can trust to be honest and accessible to all,” Cailin replied. “I swear to you that I will always listen to your concerns, and I will make judgements in favor of those that best serve the people.”
