Chapter Sixteen
Trampled Sinclair bannerslay in the mud, signaling their army’s defeat. Lachlan huffed, his worry and relief mingling like the Highland mist. He needed Ailis.
“Alisdair,” he called, “Lead our men. Attend to the wounded. I ride for the keep.”
Mounting his steed, Lachlan spurred it forward, racing toward the McAfee keep. The gates opened upon his arrival, and he dismounted with urgency.
The great hall hinted at past turmoil, now subdued. There stood Ailis, with her sisters Fiona and Moira fussing over her. Her green eyes met his, dissipating the chaos.
“Ailis,” he began, striding toward her, “Forgive me for taking so long to rescue ye. Our first thought was to do it without loss of life, but that wasn’t possible.” His voice bore leadership’s weight and sacrifice.
“I am here and unharmed,” Ailis reassured them, though shadows lingered in her tone.
Approaching her side, Lachlan attempted a smile that didn’t reach his troubled eyes.
“What of Ian?” she asked.
“Alisdair and I dealt with him,” Lachlan answered decisively. “His father and brother are at Clan McAfee’s mercy.”
Fiona and Moira retreated, leaving Ailis with Lachlan. Seating himself beside her, his presence offered silent protection.
“Ye have a mark upon yer cheek,” he noted, fingers brushing her skin gently. His gaze, reminiscent of winter’s chill, focused on the bruise.
Ailis faced him, green eyes displaying warmth as she admitted her clumsiness during the tower’s descent. “I slipped on one of the steps and fell against the wall. I’m fine, though.”
“None laid hands upon ye?” Lachlan asked, gazing into her eyes and praying no one had hurt her.
“None,” she assured him. “Well, Ian did, but I stomped on his foot and bit his lip. I feel as if I defended meself well. I am whole, Lachlan, saved by ye and Clan McAfee.” Her profound gratitude shone through her gaze.
Lachlan embraced her tightly, his arms solid as stone. Within his hold, they found solace, reassured by each other’s steady heartbeats. He whispered into her hair, their breaths harmonizing like life’s relentless rhythm.
*
In the keep’sgreat hall, Ailis sat silently with Lachlan. Duncan’s boots echoed as he approached.
“Daughter,” he called, “Are ye ready to face Arran and Callum? Ye must mete out justice for their transgressions.”
Rising from Lachlan’s arms, Ailis locked her green eyes on Duncan. “Father, I shall hear what they have to say.” Though her heart quivered, she accepted the responsibility.
Duncan nodded and stepped aside. Ailis entered the chamber where Callum and Arran were held. Shadows clung to the walls as Arran wove a tale of deceit and manipulation.
“I swear it wasn’t me own volition,” he answered tremulously. “A dark, unseen hand compelled our actions.”
“And who was controlling this dark, unseen hand?” Ailis asked.
Arran shook his head. “I have no idea. He always appeared to me in shadows.”
Ailis regarded him with a neutral expression. Beside him, Callum remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his father’s account.
“Speak, Callum Sinclair,” Ailis commanded. “Do ye have anything to add?”
Callum shook his head. “I was never told of the man Father speaks of. We were told we must have an alliance with the McAfees before winter, or our people would starve. So me brothers and I went about attempting to court ye and yer sisters. We followed orders, but we were not part of planning what was to happen. We were told to take ye from McAfee lands, and that’s what we did.”
Arran glared at his last living son. “Ye could tell them I speak the truth.”
Callum sighed. “I know not whether ye speak the truth, Father. I do not know whether ye are speaking the truth now, or if ye did when ye spoke to us before.”
Ailis observed the two men, feeling the gravity of her decision.
