Domhnall did not linger upon it, nor did he speak further than was necessary. Action followed swiftly where thought had settled, and by the time the sun had begun its descent, the chamber that had held their deliberation was already transformed into a place of execution.
A letter lay before him. It was not long, nor adorned with unnecessary flourish, but written with a precision that allowed for no misinterpretation. The Crown was invoked and a representative was required not merely to be present, but to witness what would be said, what would be attempted and most importantly, what would not remain in shadow.
He read it once, then again assuring completeness.
Cameron stood at his shoulder, silent, though attentive. He did not interrupt, nor did he offer suggestion unless asked. It was not needed.
Domhnall set the quill aside.
“This will be sent at once,” he told him.
Cameron inclined his head. “Aye, me laird.”
The seal was pressed without hesitation and the letter was handed off before the wax had fully cooled, placed into the care of a rider who would not stop until it had reached its destination. The man did not speak. He only nodded once, firmly, before turning and departing with the urgency the matter required.
He would not ride alone. Domhnall had seen to that. The roads were not to be trusted, especially not now with what had already been set in motion. Two men rode with him and more would meet them along the way. It would be enough. It would have to be.
Three more letters followed. They were shorter and more direct. Domhnall did not waste words with men who required none. They were addressed to Ruaridh, to Colin and to Niall. He wrote as one who did not ask lightly, and did not expect refusal. The situation was laid plain in the letters and the threat was named without embellishment. The request… no, theexpectationof readiness was made clear.
There was no need to say more. They would understand. They always did.
Cameron saw to those as well, selecting riders who could be trusted not only for speed, but for silence. Each departed under watch, their routes varied and their timing staggered so as not to draw notice.
By nightfall, the castle had begun to calm. There was no alarm sounded, and no gathering of men in open display. To any who moved through its halls without knowledge, it would appear unchanged. Servants continued their duties. Guards held their posts. The rhythm of the place remained intact.
But beneath it, everything moved. Maps were brought out again, not for discussion now, but for confirmation. Routes were traced with care and distances were measured not in guesswork, but incertainty. They were searching for a place where a man might stand unseen and where he might be seen too soon. Numbers were decided, enough to hold and enough to strike.
Domhnall oversaw the placement of men, speaking in low tones to those he trusted most. Instructions were given once, and not repeated. Each man knew his role before he left the chamber.
There would be no confusion. There could not be.
Domhnall moved among them, not directing every detail, but seeing all of it. There was no part of it that escaped his notice. He corrected where needed and felt that it was not tension that guided him.
It wasclarity, and beneath it,fury.
But it was not the kind that clouded judgment. His was the kind that sharpened it.
Her father had made his move. He would answer it.
By the time the last of the arrangements had been set, the castle had grown quieter. Domhnall found himself standing once more before the table, with his gaze resting upon the marked point along the coast, the place she had named.
The ruins.
It was a poor choice for safety, and an excellent one for a trap. He had no doubt it had been chosen with care, but he would meet it with even greater care.
At that moment, Cameron returned to his side.
“It is done,” he said.
Domhnall inclined his head. “Aye.”
There was nothing more to add, nothing more to prepare. The rest would depend upon execution, and uponher.
He did not question that. He had seen the certainty in her. He had felt it, but that did not lessen the weight of it. He would place her there, knowingly, and trust that he would reach her before any harm could follow.
The thought did not sit easily. Then again, it was not meant to.
Domhnall exhaled once, then turned from the table.
