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‘I hope you are right. Your men, Murray, are they good fighters?’
‘To a man, they will go hard I know that much. They’ve stout hearts, but they are farmers and fishermen not trained soldiers. I’ve done my best these past months but…’
‘We do not have the luxury of a trained army, as you are used to. You’ve taught them discipline have you not?’
‘Aye, some measure of it.’
‘Do they trust you? Do they believe you will die with them if needs be?’
‘Aye to that too.’
‘Then their belief in you must take the place of discipline.’
‘Perhaps they’ll back down, they will be loath to face a man of your reputation Duncan,’ said Rory.
‘They cannot. Lachlan knows I will kill him for this, no matter how long it takes me, so the man has to fight, unless we get him to sacrifice himself for his men in single combat with me. Now, do you think he will do that?’
‘I may detest that man,’ said Rory, ‘but I’d never call him stupid. ‘He won’t do it so don’t waste your breath. But for it to come to this Duncan, it’s such a bloody waste.’
‘Steady your temper, Rory, they’re coming. Let’s do this,’ said Duncan with grit in his voice, spurring his horse forward to meet Lachlan Grant who was approaching with a small party of men across the moor, his son alongside him.
They waded into the shallow water and when they came face to face, Murray took one look at Aidan’s face and it was all he could do not to take a claymore and bury it in his skull. Negotiating was a waste of time. He’d as soon trust a snake as trust Lachlan Grant and as to his son... That fool had broken Ilene’s heart, used her and cast her aside, left her weeping and desperate and worse than this he had driven a wedge between Murray and the woman he loved. Ilene’s innocence had meant less than nothing to Aidan, and the hate which uncoiled in Murray’s breast on seeing him again almost choked him.
‘So Lachlan, it’s come to this,’ said Duncan evenly.
‘Aye, it has, through your pride, Campbell and your desire to hold sway over all the clans hereabouts, taking everything for yourself.’
‘I don’t take anything which is not mine by right, and we don’t have to fight today. Many men will die if we don’t make peace.’
‘If they die, then so be it. If God demands a sacrifice I will give it and I put my fate and that of my men in his hands.’
‘A sound plan, why not let God decide? Face me in single combat to the death. Whichever of us is left breathing claims the victory.’
‘Victory? That’s an admission ofdefeatif ever I heard one. Are you afraid at how much we outnumber you, Campbell? If you thought you could win then you would never try to make me do something that is not to my advantage. It’s the desperate challenge of a desperate man. No, I will face you on the field with every one of my men at my back. I swore to them I would put you down and I will, for my honour and for my God. I will be true to my faith and kill as many of you Catholic heretics as I can.’
‘True to your faith! You have only ever been true to yourself Grant. You have rampant ambitions, you seek to use the trouble in England to feather your own nest, for we rubbed along together well enough before Cromwell died. Only recently do you seem to have found a conscience.’
‘Aye, it served me to feign loyalty once but it doesn’t serve me now the tide turns in my favour. I always hated your popery, the bloated, corrupt church you serve. Now I will stand before God with a heart that is true and clear for it is a matter of principle for my clan.’
‘It is a matter of greed, you fool. I see now that I have held a snake to my bosom these past years. Do you think me blind? It’s no secret that you want what I have and mean to take it from me by force, thinking Hugh’s death has made us Campbells weak. Do you honestly think you are man enough to be chief of all the clans?’
‘Aye Campbell, I do. While Charles cowers in exile trying to decide if he has the guts for a fight, I will march my men through your lands and wipe you Catholics off the face of the earth. When you are gone, along with those MacLeod dogs who run at your heels, then I will be chief hereabouts, and not beholden to you or any other. Everyone will get fall in line when you are out of the way and no matter which dog tears the throat out of the other and is left standing, Cromwell or the King, I will still have what I want.’
Duncan took a deep breath. Anger would not serve him now nor would it serve his men, at his back, waiting to hear if it was to be life or death. ‘Lachlan we need unity in the Highlands now, for who knows what the outcome will be in England. Scots must not waste time fighting Scots. And as to faith, I have no wish to direct in what way a man meets God, I have always been tolerant in that regard. I am prepared to forgive your treachery if you will leave my land, make peace and save the lives of your men and mine. In time perhaps this rift between us will heal.’
‘Getting soft in your old age Campbell,’ sneered Aidan Grant.
‘Silence that flapping tongue of yours or lose it,’ snarled Murray. ‘It’s the men speaking now, not the boys.’
Aidan spat on the ground, his face a mask of hate.
‘If The Black Wolf is prepared to negotiate,’ said Lachlan smoothly, ‘then maybe you are weaker than I thought. Perhaps Hugh was the only real Campbell left. I’ve long since believed the rumour that you are no Campbell at all, for it’s said that your whore of a mother opened her legs for men other than your father.’
Duncan smiled. ‘Lachlan therein lies your weakness my friend. You have no subtlety and you never will. Do you honestly think I am that easy to provoke?’
‘Forgive me for speaking out of turn. If it’s civility you want then I suppose I must congratulate this bastard here on his marriage to your daughter,’ he said looking at Murray with contempt. Beside his father, Aidan’s face took on an ugly smirk.
‘Do not speak of her,’ snarled Murray, through gritted teeth.
