Page 52 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

“And what answer came from Edinburgh?”

“None.”

“Because the Crown has nae interest in justice between Highland clans. It seeks only obedience.”

Alasdair’s eyes narrowed. “Yet, ye ask us tae place Donaldina MacNicol in yer hands. Why should yer rule prove kinder than hers?”

Cormac met his gaze.

“Because I ken what it is tae have me people absorbed beneath another name.”

It was not entirely a lie. His father spent his final years seated below MacNicol men whose grandfathers once asked Gunn permission to cross the southern ridge. Cormac remembered the humiliation of watching him bow to Lachlan’s father. He remembered promises that loyal service would preserve their lands, followed by rents, restrictions and marriages arranged to dissolve what remained of them.

He had sworn never to bend so deeply.

“Support me,” Cormac continued, “and the MacSorley glens will be restored.”

Alasdair gave no reaction, but his stillness sharpened.

Cormac turned to Tormod. “The coastal grazing grounds north of the river will return tae Clan MacAulay. Nae MacIver collector will set foot upon them.”

“And the Gunns?” Alasdair asked.

Cormac looked around the broken tower. “We take back what was ours.”

The sea struck the distant cliffs with a sound like stone splitting. For several moments, neither chief spoke. Cormac allowed the silence to work.

Men rarely betrayed their ruling clans because they loved another leader. They betrayed them because someone finally gave shape to the grievance they had been carrying for too long.

Tormod leaned over the map. “Even with our men, MacIver’s force is stronger.”

“Then we dinnae meet him in open battle.”

“Ye tried force already,” Alasdair reminded him. “Twice, from what I hear.”

Heat moved through Cormac’s chest.

“The first attempt was spoiled by hesitation. The second by men who failed tae hold the inner hall.”

“And by MacIver,” Tormod added.

Cormac looked at him until the younger man shifted his weight.

“Roy MacIver can be killed,” Cormac assured him. “He bleeds as other men do.”

“But nae easily,” Alasdair observed.

“Nae. Which is why we willnae give him a battlefield.”

Cormac reached inside his cloak and withdrew a second parchment. This one held a rough drawing of Dun Ard and the surrounding paths.

“There are servants who still remember what the Gunns were before Lachlan’s family reduced us. Stable hands whose fathers lost land. Guards who resent taking commands from MacIvers.”

“Enough tae open the gates?” Tormod asked.

“Nae yet.”

Cormac pointed toward the village road, then to the gardens west of the stronghold.