AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Laughter broke out all around him. Conall felt the humiliation of it burn through his pride, but it did not reduce it to ashes. A week spent in the dungeon may have made him filthy and bedraggled, but he’d not give the man the satisfaction of seeing his shame. Instead, he glowered at Gregor and gave a slow, stiff bow.
‘Laird Moncur, what an honour it is to meet you and your worthy clansmen. I apologise for coming amongst such exalted company in such poor garb and in such a state of disarray, but unfortunately, your dungeon has few creature comforts. And besides, when I am a guest in someone’s home, I do try to fit in with their ways, and as this whole place stinks of shit, I thought it polite to play along.’
The other man’s eyes narrowed, but his voice was even, no emotion, no anger, just a cold viciousness, like the slow slice of a knife.
‘I think your mother must have whored herself to a peasant to whelp such a poor specimen as you. Your father should have her hanged for adultery.’ The entire hall laughed again at his words, but it was laughter borne of fear, nervous, too forced to be sincere.
Everyone was afraid of his man. He must be careful.
‘I assure you I am my father’s son, and if you free me from these chains, I will prove it here and now,’ said Conall.
‘You wish to fight me, lad?’
‘I would relish it.’
‘Some courage in you then, to challenge me in my own hall? That’s good, but it is misplaced, you know. It’s nothing more than the desperate courage of a beast cornered by the hunt making one last lunge before its throat is slit. You are now that cornered beast Conall Campbell, and in time I will have you beg for your life, and then I will take it.’
‘What complaint do you have against me that I may be so treated?’
‘Do I need one?’ replied Moncur, tearing the flesh from a chicken leg with greasy fingers and shoving it in his mouth. ‘I have no grudge against you, for you are beneath my notice.’
‘Why bother taking me then, and if you seek to hurt my father through me, you will be disappointed. I will tell you nothing that hurts him or any of my kin.’
‘Of course not.’ Gregor Moncur merely shrugged.
‘Why am I here? What offence have I given?’
‘Ah, that is not your concern. It is mine. Now,’ he said, clapping his hands together, ‘where are my manners? If my hospitality has been lacking, as you say, well, I must make amends and give you a proper Moncur welcome. We must find a place for you to dine.’
Gregor flicked his hand, and Conall was dragged before the fire and chained to the wall for all to see. The Moncurs laughed again. Conall looked around him, glowering at their ugly, staring faces. What a weak lot they were, appeasing a bully by joining in with his cruelty, so that it did not fall on them. He must bear it, whatever they did, and at least tonight, he had light and a fire warm on his back, taking some of the ache from his bones.
Something soft and wet hit his cheek and slid down - a piece of fat from some meat. Another thing hit him, a chicken bone, more laughter. They were throwing scraps at him as entertainment. It was especially torturous as his stomach was clenching with starvation. He so wanted to eat, to lick the food from his face like a dog, to grasp at the scraps on the dirty floor at his feet, but he would not give them that satisfaction. It was either give up his pride or a meal, but he would not cower and lie down in front of these people. He could bear this. He had to, but then he caught a flash of bright blonde hair at the back of the hall, and there she was, coming towards him, head down and rushing, a pitcher in her hands. Kenna had said she was the Laird’s daughter, so why…?
‘Kenna, move yourself, girl. Serve my ale,’ barked Gregor.
Conall’s eyes followed her as she moved forward, shoulders hunched, making herself as small and insignificant as possible. She glanced over at him and faltered a little, and her father noticed.
‘Staring at my daughter like a slavering dog are you, Campbell, though God knows she’s not much to look at? Do you think her pretty? I suppose after being stuck in that black hole of a cell, anything would look good. Why old Bessie over there would give you a better ride.’ He gestured to an old servant who gave him a sickly smile of broken teeth and a curtsy. ‘She’d warm you better than this one here. Skinny she is and stupid, like a sheep, and about as much use to a man.’
No one in the hall stood to Kenna’s defence. They all looked down at their food. Conall pitied her, but he was no better off.
‘More ale, Kenna and be quick about it,’ snarled Gregor. When she filled his glass, he guzzled it in one go, dribbling it down his chin, still stuffing food into his mouth. Conall could see it as he chewed, bits of it being spat out while he carried on talking angrily to his companions and barking at the servants, who all scuttled to do his bidding as if their lives depended on it.
‘More girl.’ Gregor snatched the pitcher from Kenna’s hand and pushed his daughter away. He refilled his glass, sloshing ale over the side and turned his angry eyes back to Conall.
‘Aye, I have my two fine sons here,’ he said, gesturing to the two men on either side of him who had been his captors on the ride here. They did not meet his eye. ‘Two fine sons and this one.’ He grabbed at Kenna and held her arm tightly. ‘Aye, this one here who ripped her mother apart on her way out of her. My beautiful wife dead, bled out, all to bring a worthless girl into the world. What say you to that?’
Conall glared at the man. Moncur wanted this. He wanted to make him angry. Did he know Kenna had visited him? If so, he feared for her, as this man was drunk and becoming more so, and there was terrible anger in him, teetering on madness it seemed. Or was this all a show to lure him into trusting Kenna as an ally?
‘I say a man who bullies his own daughter is a poor excuse for one. That is what I say.’
‘She’s mine lad, to do with as I please, for by the law, a man owns his daughter, like his cattle, land and his horses.’ He looked him square in the eye. ‘Mine to do with as I please. Why she’s no better to me than the sheep in the fields, the game in my forests or the silver on my table.’ With that, he got up and shoved Kenna viciously into the wall. Her head cracked against it, and she fell down.
‘Leave her alone!’ The words were out, and Conall was on his feet before he could stop himself. ‘Hold your tongue and don’t rise to the bait.’ That is what Rory would have told him to do, and he should have. Kenna was wiser and made no attempt to get up as Gregor Moncur pushed back his chair and strode over to him.
‘Think you Campbells are better than us? I’ll do as I will with my own kin, and if you are wise, you will shut your mouth. She takes what I give out. She doesn’t complain, so why should you?’
‘Why don’t you unchain me and put a sword in my hand, and I’ll show you some complaining,’ snarled Conall.
