Page 91 of Enchantment of a Highlander

“I dinna care if the laird is in love or how kind she has been,” the man said vehemently. “The attacks willna stop while that MacDougall bastard knows she’s here. I say we spare all our lives and throw him the witches he seeks.”

Celia stumbled backward, stupidly clutching the blankets to herself. If the wind continued to batter her clothes and chill her skin, she did not feel it. She felt nothing. Nothing but the savage rending of her heart.

These people were in danger, Alec was in danger, all of them risking their lives.

Because of her.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Alec took a deep breath of the sharp air and let it bite into his lungs. The cold always made his blood pound faster.

Countless villagers swarmed where he stood in the courtyard with Niall, bodies all but pressing against the two men despite many warnings.

“Niall MacLean,” Alec said in a loud voice. The crowd stilled, save a few shuffles and the wail of a baby somewhere in the distance. “Ye’ve disobeyed an order that would have saved lives. Ye once were brave and noble. I fear that is no more.” He addressed the crowd. “His weakness makes us all weak.”

Several grumbles rose from the otherwise silent masses. Alec’s favor with them was held with a thin thread—the taste of his father’s wrath was still too fresh in their mouths.

He had to show them. They had to understand.

Alec slid his sword from its sheath. The black blade’s edges had long since been nicked silver through the course of many battles, but he would not let the blacksmith grind away the blackened finish.

Niall’s back stiffened and he tugged his own sword free with a metallic hiss. He did not wait for a sign from Alec before launching into an attack with the deadly swing of his blade.

A coward he would start and a coward he would fall.

Alec lifted his weapon over his head and a clang rang out. His forearms jerked toward Niall beneath the force of the man’s attack. Using both hands on the wide hilt, Alec shoved him back and leapt forward.

The black blade sang as it rent the air with lethal speed. Fear flickered in Niall’s eyes. He backed up and threw his weapon up between them in an effort to shield himself.

The blocked hit sent shocks reverberating to the base of Alec’s back. Niall would not be unaffected. He would realize Alec was no simple outlaw, easily slain.

The warrior stumbled backward and fell to his knees.

Alec lifted his weapon high in the air.

Niall’s eyes went wide. “Dinna do this.” He shook his head.

Alec lowered his blade before the first villager could plead for the warrior’s life and Niall’s face creased with tired resignation, his eyes dull with a defeat extending beyond their simple sparring.

“Let it be known that all who defy me out of cowardice will pay the price.” Alec’s voice carried over the hushed masses.

This had to be done.

All it took was one man.

One man perceiving Alec as weak, and the heavy tapestry of strength he’d built up would quickly unravel.

He indicated the kneeling warrior. “Is this what ye want protecting yer lives and those of yer children?”

Eyes shifted away.

They agreed, but no one would speak.

“Dinna kill him,” said an unseen voice.

Several low murmurs rose up in the crowd in agreement.

Alec shook his head. “His disobedience willna be met with death, but with shame. Niall MacLean, ye are no longer welcome in my guard. Ye may return to yer home.”