Chapter Thirteen
At dawn, Moira’sred hair stood out in the gray morning as she leaned forward, scanning the courtyard below.
“Ye ken what must be done, Lachlan,” she said to her brother-in-law. “We cannae let the traitors slip through our grasp.”
Lachlan nodded, determination etched on his face. “Aye, I’ll watch ’em close.” His hand went to the dirk at his belt.
Moira turned away—no time for further assurances.
Brodie spoke with Alisdair, his deep brown eyes intense. “Speak naught of the true purpose,” he instructed. “Let them believe ye seek their counsel on mundane matters. We need to see who flinches when the wind shifts.”
“Understood,” Alisdair responded, calm and steady.
Brodie descended toward the gathering soldiers, calling them aside two at a time. From the parapet, Moira observed the interactions, Fiona beside her.
“Can ye tell anything from up here?” Fiona asked.
“Only that Brodie is skilled at this game,” Moira replied. “We must trust in his methods.” While she knew her husband was lying as he talked to the men, there were no signs of it. A lesser woman may become worried that he was a skilled liar and could tell her anything. Instead, Moira chose to be proud of her husband’s penchant for deception. Why would she worry that he would lie to her, when she knew he was a trustworthy man? He lied for the safety of his clan. Nothing less.
Before Fiona could respond, Ailis called up from lower down the wall. “Moira! I need yer eyes on this.”
“Go,” Fiona urged.
With Moira joining Ailis, she glanced back toward Brodie and the men one last time. As they paced alongside each other, her gaze never left the soldiers below, searching for any hint of treachery threatening their clans.
“Anything amiss?” Ailis questioned urgently.
“Naught yet,” Moira replied, “but if serpents hide in the heather, we’ll find them.” Her words were a vow, spoken with a conviction rooted in her clan’s survival. No one would hurt any of the allied clans if she could help it.
The Highland breeze whipped Moira’s woolen cloak around her as she stood atop the parapet, scanning the stone and scrub below. Behind her, the McAfee Keep cast protective shadows. Among the men below, one figure caught her attention—Lucas Gordon striding toward Sinclair lands. Moira felt shock and betrayal with each step he took. She had been certain he was on their side, and she felt sick to her stomach at the idea he was betraying them.
“Lucas…” she whispered, gripping the cold stone. Time passed—an hour or more—as suspicion and uncertainty consumed her thoughts. Then, Lucas reemerged alongside two men loyal to the Sinclairs—Bearnard and Horas, who had tried to keep the two younger McAfee sisters from marrying the McClain brothers. Not that it had worked. With a muttered curse, Moira descended the turret stairs, each step fueling her resolve against treachery.
At the training field, Brodie stood firm while Lucas and his companions faced him without weapons but full of defiance. Acknowledging Moira with a nod, Brodie listened as she accused Lucas of playing a game.
“Naught but the game of survival,” Lucas replied, chin lifted in defiance. “We come to stand with ye against the Stewarts. The men are all losing their loyalty as they see Clyde Stewart hurt others for nothing but the pleasure of it.”
Brodie’s tone revealed skepticism as he questioned their sudden pledge of loyalty, which Bearnard and Horas tried to defend by citing losses to the Stewart’s greed and choosing kin over foes.
Moira’s gaze met Brodie’s, the men’s assurances offering no comfort. Their claims hung heavy, as tenuous as the distant mist-shrouded peaks. Silence fell, a contemplative veil, as they searched for truth in the tangled web of alliances and loyalties.
*
The great hallof McAfee Keep hummed with conversation as Moira entered with her sisters, Ailis and Fiona. They caught the attention of Brodie, Lachlan, and Alisdair by the hearth, while Lucas Gordon and his companions—Bearnard and Horas—awaited.
“Ye’ve come to pledge yer allegiance away from the Stewarts,” Moira said, her voice echoing across the hall.
“Aye,” Bearnard replied wearily. “The cost has been too dear. We yearn for peace, not endless bloodshed.”
Ailis studied the suitors before responding. “Peace is a noble pursuit, but trust, once broken, is not easily mended.”
Fiona observed the men intently, offering support through her silent presence.
Afterward, as the suitors were led away, Brodie pulled Moira into a dimly lit antechamber. The torchlight flickered on his face as he spoke, “Before ye saw Lucas take leave toward Sinclair lands, I hadn’t shared our strategy with him.”
Moira searched his expression. “Then why would he fetch his comrades before hearing our plans?”
Brodie frowned. “His actions suggest he knew more than he ought or suspected enough to seek reinforcements.”
