Chapter Seventeen

Keiran and Rosalyn joined the others in the great hall at daybreak. Alastair and all of Keiran’s brothers ate meat pies to break their fast while they studied the map Keiran had retrieved from the Nicolsons in the centre of the table. This time when Keiran looked at the words written on the page, he could easily recognise the place names where the English regiments’ locations had been as of several days ago.

Keiran held a chair out for Rosalyn, and as he did, he caught her gaze, hoping she could see the thanks written there for all she had taught him.

At her nod of recognition, he smiled, taking the seat beside her. The men talked between bites of pie about where the soldiers were in relation to Dunvegan.

“Are you all so certain their locations have not changed? We know Lieutenant Long’s men are much closer than previously recorded.” Keiran reached for a plate and a savoury pie, then passed it to Rosalyn before taking one for himself from the pile.

“I sent four teams of men out an hour ago to verify at least where Lieutenant Long has positioned himself, if not all the regiments. We should know more by the close of day,” Alastair said. “Until things are confirmed, we must come up with plans for the English and for Oberon that neither of them would anticipate.”

“If we are not going to attack them outright, then how do we draw the English into a trap?” Tormod stood and thumped both hands on the table. “I still say attacking them directly is the better move.”

Only Rosalyn flinched at the expression of their brother’s frustration. The rest of them had become used to Tormod’s irritation at any plan that did not include physical force. Keiran had learned over the past few weeks that swordplay was Tormod’s domain in the family. Orrick’s strength was in logic. Alastair’s strengths were strategy and negotiating peace. Callum tended to sit back and observe. Because of Keiran’s magical ageing, the now youngest brother was more comfortable with music and entertainment than with a sword. And as for himself, he was also a strategist. They would have to rely on all those skills to formulate a plan.

“Do we wait for them to come to the castle, or do we meet them away from our walls in some other place we control?” Orrick asked, mulling his own question over with a thoughtful expression. “Rugged terrain will give us the advantage. The English can only seem to fight in linear formations with coordinated musket fire. Yet, those tactics have proven effective against charging Highlanders.”

“They have superior firepower, but their uniforms are heavy, making them less agile,” Alastair commented.

“How about we draw them to the shoreline and hide in the boats, then attack when they least expect us to?” Callum offered, leaning forward to engage in the conversation for once.

“Your plan has its merit, Callum,” Alastair said calmly. “But it might be hard for us to sneak up on them if we are in the water ourselves.”

Callum blew out a breath. “You are correct, as always.”

“Keep thinking,” Alastair encouraged. “You are on the right track. The shoreline would be difficult terrain for them to hold their lines.”

“I have read about the Stone Age hunters digging pits large enough to trap deer and elk. Also, there are Amazonia tribes who capture tapirs in such a manner,” Rosalyn’s voice chimed in, strongly at first then softening as the men turned to stare at her with curiosity.

Orrick brightened. “I’ve read such stories as well. It is a practice that has gone by the wayside with the invention of more precise arrows and now muskets.”

Alastair’s brow knit. “We would need something to draw the English to the area of the trap.”

“The trap would have to be set in a valley of sorts, to narrow their lines, forcing them into the pits,” Keiran added, warming to the suggestion.

Tormod frowned. “It is a clever idea, except that once the first few men fall into the pit, the rest will avoid it. We will still need to fight them in close combat.”

Alastair leaned back in his chair. “We do not need to draw the attention of the entire regiment. The only person we need to capture is Lieutenant Long.”

Orrick nodded. “I was concerned about how we would capture a whole regiment and take them up to Dunshee Castle to contain with the rest of our English prisoners. We would have needed the help of our allied clans, and the more people who know our secret, the more likely that knowledge will leak back to England and threaten us all.”

“Agreed,” said Alastair. “But who or what will we use to draw the English in?”

“Callum could play his mandolin,” Keiran said.

“Nay.” Callum’s eyes widened. “That man will shoot me before I could so much as finish one song.” He shook his head. “I want to help, but not at the expense of my life.”

Alastair’s features brightened. “I never would have believed I would say this, but we could deploy the same trick Garrick MacDonald used against us when he kept Gwendolyn as his prisoner. I still have the large sheet of glass he used to throw her image from one place to another using light. Camera obscura is an old trick that certainly fooled all of us.” Alastair turned to Callum. “We could throw your image and keep you safely away from any musket fire.”

“That trick was only successful because it was dark in one place and light in another,” Graeme reminded them all. “We will have to set the trap at nightfall, and somehow find a way to keep the rest of his regiment from following him.”

“I know exactly how we accomplish that task,” Alastair said with a smile. “A secret delivery of our finest whisky should do the trick. What man if given the gift of our best whisky would not partake of a sip or two?” His smile increased. “Before that, however, we will have Lottie dose the liquor with her special sleeping herbs. Not only will these men be out of our way, but they won’t remember a thing.”

Callum pressed his lips together, then smiled. “It would be rather fun to play the man for a fool. And to fill his men’s thoughts when they sleep with tall tales so they have no idea what was real or imagined.”

“Then you’ll do it?” Alastair asked.

Callum nodded.

“What will you do with the lieutenant once you capture him?” Rosalyn asked, her face pale. “I want him to release me from any legal obligation, but it is our Christian duty not to murder him in cold blood as he tried to do to me.”

“I have an idea that does not require any bloodshed,” Alastair said. “We will need to tempt the lieutenant with something he desires more than winning whatever game he is playing with your life, Rosalyn. Is he the type of man to be tempted?”

“He is shallow and vindictive,” Rosalyn said, straightening. “If you dangle a big enough carrot in front of him, he is sure to bite.”

“Good,” Alastair said with a smile. “I have a friend, William Gordon, the second Earl of Aberdeen, who is a Scottish nobleman and a British statesman. I will send word to him that I wish to purchase a rank advancement for the lieutenant. Do you believe the lieutenant will be tempted by attaining the rank of major with little or no effort on his part?”

Rosalyn gasped. “Such an advancement would cost you a fortune. I could not ask you to spend so lavishly on my behalf.”

Alastair’s brows creased. “You’re family. It is what we do for each other that matters most.”

She stood as her face turned ashen. “I do not know how I could ever repay such kindness sufficiently.”

Alastair shrugged. “There is nothing to repay. Make Keiran happy and be a part of our clan. That is thanks enough.”

She swallowed thickly, nodded, then raced from the chamber with what looked to be tears on her cheeks.

Keiran moved to go after her, but Graeme stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Give her time alone with her thoughts. She has had much to adjust to over the past few days. She needs the womenfolk to help her through this difficulty, not you.”

Keiran retook his seat, but his gaze followed Rosalyn until she disappeared through the doorway. “What if the lieutenant refuses your bribe?”

“Then he will be taken to Dunshee Castle,” Tormod said, his features hardening. “He will take his rightful place among the rest of our ‘English visitors.’”

Orrick held up his hands. “We are losing sight of the bigger issue here.” His voice was grim. “Stopping the lieutenant from attacking us might help Rosalyn with her marital issues, but it will do nothing to ease the bigger threat the English pose to us and the other clans.”

“You are correct, Orrick,” Alastair agreed. “That issue cannot be solved by only the MacLeods. All the clans must be involved in that solution because it could very well lead to a war that might leave a lasting effect on Scotland’s people and this country.”

“If we are only focusing our attention on the lieutenant and his regiment, then we also must remember that this is a man who agreed to marry a woman then sent soldiers to kill her and her men. How can we trust him even if he agrees to whatever incentive we offer? Will he take the bribe and disappear? Will he take his men with him? Will he promise never to attack the MacLeods? We have no way to enforce his compliance other than take away his offered rank advancement.”

“All good questions, Orrick. None of which I have answers to,” Alastair replied, his expression matching the seriousness of Orrick’s. “We are in a no-win situation at present. All we can do is try to eliminate the immediate threat and live for tomorrow where we have hope of finding a better, more permanent solution to our issues with the English.”

Orrick pressed his lips together before saying, “And you are willing to trust that Lieutenant Long will accept this bribe and leave the MacLeods in peace?”

“The man is a snake,” Alastair said. “But the one thing he values above all things, as Rosalyn has proven to us, is his own worth.”

“Then we agree this is our best plan for now,” Tormod summarised.

Alastair nodded followed by Orrick, Graeme, Callum, then Keiran. Once lieutenant Long was no longer a threat, they could shift their attention on defending the entire country.

“Sounds like we have a plan for taking care of the lieutenant,” Callum said. “Once we decide on a location, we will be set there. But what about Oberon?”

Graeme turned his gaze to the other men. “Aria and I came to an idea last night based on what we experienced in both the shadow realm and Fairyland when we went to rescue Keiran, and by what Aria knows of the fairies.”

Keiran’s focus shifted to Graeme, interested to hear his plan. He would find Rosalyn after their discussion and make certain she was well.

“Aria suggested that we throw a costume party here at Dunvegan to celebrate the commitment Rosalyn and Keiran have made to each other. Oberon is certain to find a way to attend in disguise.”

Callum frowned. “If he is in disguise, then how will we know it is Oberon when we try to capture him?”

“Anyone with fairy blood can recognise another,” Graeme said. “Aria will be on the hunt for him, but she said in Fairyland when she was a child, he tended to favour costume that made him resemble animals since he often reverts to such a form while out in daylight hours. Is that not so, Keiran?”

“Aye,” Keiran replied, realising he would have to be more careful about the animals he rescued from this point forward. Or he might be responsible for giving refuge to the very man they wanted to trap. He did not have the skill of identifying the fae from the human like Aria, her mother, or her sister did. His blood was all human.

Keiran’s gaze drifted back to the door through which Rosalyn had departed. His human blood had run hot last night with her in his arms. By the heavens, he wanted to go after her, not only to see that she fared well after her upset, but also to pull her into his arms once more. He could still recall her softness, her scent, the way she trailed her fingers against his skin. He had thought last night would appease his appetite for her, but the more he discovered the nuances of her body and the things that brought her pleasure, the more he craved her. He also realised that he had explored every curve and nuance of her body, but he also wanted to know her thoughts, her dreams, her desires, and he could not do that planning to go to war on two fronts.

It was as if the two sides of himself were battling against each other, threatening his current situation as a MacLeod, a brother, and husband. If he wanted a life with Rosalyn, then he had to defeat both men who threatened to upset everything. The sooner these men were out of the way and out of their lives, the better.

*

Rosalyn raced outof the great hall and ran into the front courtyard. Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision. She drew in a breath of the cool morning air, allowing it to seep inside her, calming the turmoil that Alastair’s words had brought forth. He was prepared to spend a small fortune on her to free her permanently from Lieutenant Long. Yet it was the word “family” that had twanged deep inside her. She had not been part of a family for a very long time, and it wasn’t until that moment that she realised how much she wanted to be a part of a family again—part of Keiran’s family.

She tipped her head back, allowing the wind to caress her face. When the breeze failed to bring the tranquillity she longed for, she focused on the sound of the birds in the trees and the waves that gently lapped at the shore in the distance. Last night, when Keiran had taken her into his arms and held her close, she had felt safe and cared for. But not loved or cherished. The sooner she accepted that, the better off she would be.

Rosalyn forced her breathing into a slow, steady rhythm, and drew silent strength from the earth beneath her feet. Every day, she seemed to be finding a newfound connection to the land of her mother’s people. Of her people. The thought brought the sense of calm for which she had been searching. She turned back towards the castle’s doorway when she heard a sound that made her pause. She stopped, listening for the noise that seemed out of place amongst the other sounds of the morning.

A soft screech came again, from a distance. Feeling safe within the walls of the castle, she followed the soft sound that seemed to be coming from the gate. As she neared, she saw a splash of black fur and heard a distinctive meow. She knelt before the gate to see a bedraggled kitten. “Sweet baby,” she cooed as she reached through the iron bars of the portcullis and lifted the kitten into her arms. The kitten immediately started purring and rubbing itself on her arm. “Are you lost?”

Rosalyn studied the animal’s black coat, white paw, and noted a little splash of white on the animal’s chin. The feature that drew her attention was the kitten’s intense blue eyes.

Could this be another kitten from the mother cat Keiran had found a few nights ago? “You must be starving,” she cooed again, rising. With determined steps, she carried the small beast into the castle then back outside and into the rear courtyard where she made her way to the mews.

She opened the door to the small haven Keiran had created for his menagerie of injured animals and moved to find the mother cat nursing her other kitten beneath the table. She held the small, wet kitten out to the mother cat, expecting Midnight to accept the lost kitten. Instead, the animal flinched backwards and hissed, before gathering her nursing kitten closer. Then chaos erupted as the birds in the small space shrieked and flapped their wings, as if they, too, were annoyed with the new visitor. Shivering, the brown rabbit buried itself beneath the hay.

Rosalyn pressed her lips together and frowned. She did not know much about animal behaviour, yet the mother cat and all the other creatures had made their opinion of accepting the new kitten perfectly clear. “Never fear, sweet kitten.” She spoke softly to the abandoned animal in her hands. “I will take care of you. Let us go find you some milk, shall we?”

The mother cat was still hissing and growling until Rosalyn shut the door behind her. “Perhaps you need a bath, too.” She drew the kitten closer to her nose, not detecting any foul scent. What other reason could the animals have for acting so strangely? She nestled the kitten in the curve of her arm as she continued towards the kitchen. “I will wash you and feed you, and then tomorrow we can try to reintroduce you to the others.”

Rosalyn’s steps were filled with such purpose, and her focus was on what she would say to Mrs Honey when she arrived at the kitchen, that she did not notice the splash of white on the kitten’s chin shifting to the bridge of the animal’s nose.

*

Back in thegreat hall, the planning continued as Keiran desperately tried to focus his attention on the ongoing discussion before him. “When do we implement these plans?”

“We can start our plans with Oberon this evening. However, we must wait for the scouts to return with the locations of the English regiments before we can execute that plan safely.”

“What do we do with Oberon once we have captured him?” Keiran met Alastair’s gaze directly.

The heaviness in Alastair’s eyes spoke his thought that Oberon would not be easy to capture and even harder to contain. “We have not been able to find a solution to that.”

“We could force him into the shadow realm. It would not be a permanent solution, but it could take him days, even years to make his way back here.”

“And he will be angry and more dangerous when he finds a way out,” Tormod said.

“How would we even get him into the shadow realm?” Alastair asked. “Mother had to help us the last time at great cost to herself. Can we ask her to do that again and possibly lose her for good this time?”

“Haven’t we already lost her? Or at least the mother we used to know?” Callum asked with a frown.

“Aye. Mother is much changed from when she was alive, but she has been so helpful in the past few months. Without her early warnings, we might have fallen to more than one foe. Besides, none of us can deny that she is changing. She can touch us now. She can feel emotion. She is less translucent every time we see her.” Orrick’s brows came together as they did when he was deep in thought. “I suspect it is because she is clawing her way back from the spirit realm where she is trapped and may eventually find her eternal reward in the afterlife. Then, her half-existence in this realm will be at an end.”

“Mother?” Tormod called out, hoping to draw the Grey Lady to them. To the table he explained, “I know we all only want what is best for our mother. But before we make assumptions, we should ask her feelings on the matter before we make any further plans.”

Answering Tormod’s summons, a frothy grey mist swept across the floor of the great hall, then gathered into a more solid shape at the end of the table, until their mother appeared before them. You called me, my sons? Her unspoken words filled their minds.

The mist that surrounded her lessened, leaving a more solid version of their mother than had ever been there before. Orrick was right. As the days passed, their mother became more of the woman she had once been. Even so, as she walked behind each of them, placing a hand of greeting upon their shoulders, enveloping them in an otherworldly mist that crawled across their skin, her touch left a chill in its wake. She might appear more human, but she was not fully of this world either.

“Mother,” Keiran said. “We need your help. We have a plan to trap Oberon, yet we have no idea how to contain him once he is our prisoner. He cannot die as humans do. Graeme, Aria, and I tried to obliviate him and failed. How do we keep the fairy king contained so that he cannot keep interfering in the lives of the MacLeods now and in future generations?”

Any joy Keiran might have imagined in the Grey Lady’s features vanished, replaced by a sombre expression. There is a way, she said, her voice almost tortured. After the last time I helped Aria and Graeme break through to the shadow realm, I almost faded from this realm, until my children pulled me back. Yet as I existed partially in the human realm, and partially in the spirit realm, I realised I can choose my own fate. I can remain here with all of you, or, when I am ready, I can move on to the spirit realm and my eternal reward. I could also shift into the shadow realm, where I would then stay for all eternity. If that is what you need me to do, I can take Oberon with me to the shadow realm.

“Nay,” Callum and Orrick said in unison.

Tormod crossed his arms over his chest. “If you leave us, we want it to be for something better, not for an eternity of pain and suffering at that man’s side.”

Alastair shook his head, his expression pained. “We can find another way that does not involve you sacrificing yourself, Mother.”

I would happily sacrifice what remains of myself to see my children safe.

“Nay,” Keiran agreed. “There must be another solution.”

In that same moment, Aria raced into the chamber, her face set with a look of determination but also fear. “I apologise for interrupting, but I thought I should tell you this immediately.”

“What is it?” Graeme asked, standing, and moving to his wife’s side.

Keiran’s stomach clenched at the overly bright look in Aria’s eyes. Something had not simply frightened Aria, it had terrified her.

“It is only a feeling, but I sensed that Oberon has returned, and not simply to the area. He is in the castle. I cannot sense where or how he accomplished that task, but he is here. The time for planning is over. We must act immediately.”

A dark shiver passed through Keiran as he and all gathered at the table stood, ready to spring into action. “I must find Rosalyn and warn her.”

Alastair nodded. “The battle has begun. Alert the warriors. I want every nook and cranny of this castle searched for the intruder.” He turned to Graeme. “Send me your fastest rider. I need to get that message to the Earl of Aberdeen as quickly as possible to his estate on the Isle of Skye.”

Graeme nodded. The men headed towards the door, but stopped when Aria held up her hand, stalling their movements. “There is more,” she said, her voice tight.

“Tell us.” Alastair’s brows creased.

Aria straightened. “One of the scouting parties has returned. Within the hour, Lieutenant Long’s men will be at our gates. They have a battering ram and several cannons.”

Keiran tensed. “How will we implement our plans now?”

A muscle moved spasmodically in Alastair’s throat. “Graeme, Tormod, Callum, the three of you will figure out a way to get the whisky containing a sleeping draught to the Englishmen.” To Aria he said, “Find your mother and sister. I need the three of you to be ready with whatever magic you can use to aid us.”

When she nodded and raced from the chamber, Alastair turned to Keiran. “Go find Rosalyn, then join Orrick and myself in our search for Oberon.” He turned to the Grey Lady. “Mother, we could use your help as well to find the fairy king. You see things we do not.”

I will help,she said before vanishing in a swirl of mist.

Their enemy was not only amongst them, but also at their doorstep. “Alastair?” Keiran turned back to his brother from the doorway of the chamber. “There is another way to send Oberon back to Fairyland.”

“How?” he asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

“We use the final magic contained in the Fairy Flag,” Keiran said, emotions raw. He knew Alastair did not want to be the laird who used the last of the magic it contained. “It would spare Mother and save us all.”

“And doom Graeme for all eternity when he is drawn back to Fairyland along with the flag’s magic.” Alastair shook his head. “I cannot do that to my friend and Aria’s husband. There must be another way.”