Phillip only smiled. “My king prefers the wordpatriot.”
“Why?” Jamie demanded. “Why would ye do this?” He couldn’t keep the hurt from his voice. He’d trusted this man. Trusted him. And now…now he’d sold him and his people like cattle. The depth of such a betrayal left him breathless.
“Because weneedthe Kingdom of the Isles,” Phillip replied. “As a bulwark between Scotland and the growing power of Ulster.”
“We? Ye say ‘we’ as though ye and James of Scotland are united. But ye are a man of Islay!”
“Wasa man of Islay,” Phillip corrected. “But then yer father sent me to the royal court and my eyes were opened.” His gaze flicked momentarily to Elise. “Do ye know how I got these scars?” he said, indicating the burn marks on his face.
Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “An accident when ye were a child, I was told.”
Phillip barked a sardonic laugh. “An accident? Hardly. The people of yer precious Islay tried to burn me for practicing ‘witchery.’” His tone turned bitter as he pointed at Elise. “Theywelcome the MacFinnan spellweaver as a savior, yet when they discovered one of their own studying the same magic, they reacted with fear and loathing. It was only yer father’s intervention that saved my life. So forgive me, my laird, if I feel little affinity with the people of Islay.”
Jamie shook his head. “I dinna understand.”
“But King James did. He saw my worth. And he allowed me to study without fear of retribution. At the royal court I discovered many things, including where my true loyalty lay.”
“So ye returned here as a spy? Ye were working for him the whole time?”
“Loyalty has its price, my laird, and King James paid my price many times over.”
“Why such deceit?” Jamie asked, trying to catch up with all of this. He felt like he’d been dropped into another land where he didn’t understand the language or the rules. “Why fake all these pirate attacks? If King James wants the Isles so badly, why not just invade us?”
Phillip raised an eyebrow. “I taught ye better than that, Jamie. Think about it. If the king of Scotland marched an army onto these shores, the Kingdom of Ulster would intervene. There would be war and no one wants that. Better to create a crisis. A threat. Something that wouldpushye towards alliance with King James.”
“Alliance?” Jamie barked. “Ye mean surrender.”
Phillip shrugged. “When we sign the marriage contract, these lands become bound to the Scottish Crown. Peacefully. Bloodlessly.”
Something inside Jamie snapped. With a howl of incandescent rage, he hurled himself at Phillip, swinging his sword two-handed. But he never made it.
Phillip flung up his hand and Jamie’s blade met a wall of shimmering force that threw him backward. Instantly, Elise’smagic answered in a blazing surge, slamming into Phillip’s power and shredding it like parchment.
In response, chaos erupted around them.
The envoy shouted orders. Steel flashed. Guards advanced, swords drawn. Elise sent a wave of power through the trees, splintering branches and knocking two men from their feet. Jamie saw the strain on her face. She was already exhausted from breaking the glamour.
He set himself in front of her, sword clasped before him. His eyes flicked from side to side, trying to track all the advancing guards at once. There were too many. Even with Elise’s power, they couldn’t hope to best them all.
“Run!” he shouted.
They sprinted for the horses. Two guards blocked their path, but Jamie knocked one aside and Elise blasted the other with raw, wild magic that sent him crashing into the underbrush.
They reached the horses. Ignoring Elise’s dapple, Jamie vaulted onto Tempest, hauling Elise up after him. The big stallion was faster and stronger and what they needed right now was speed.
Glancing behind, Jamie saw Phillip raise his hands again, light gathering in his palms.
“Yah,” Jamie roared.
He kicked Tempest into a desperate gallop just as magic cracked through the air behind them. Trees exploded with sparks. A blast of force sent dirt flying around the horse’s hooves.
But they made it out.
The forest whipped past as they plunged into its depths, branches clawing at their cloaks. Guards shouted behind them but the path narrowed, and Tempest, born and bred on Islay’s rough terrain, leaped over roots and rocks with sure-footed speed.
Behind him Elise muttered something and a silent shockwave of power rippled out behind them.
“That bastard isn’t the only one who can conjure a glamour,” she said. “I’ve laid a false trail. It should give us time to get clear.”
