Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

W ith a spring in his step, Brendan left the prisoners and stormed down the hallway. As he turned the corner and headed toward the exit, he passed two more guards, both of whom suddenly straightened themselves as he approached.

"I want this place guarded day and night, dae ye hear me?" he growled.

"Aye, me laird," the men said in unison.

"Ye take it in turns tae guard the prisoners. Swap over every six hours tae give the others time tae rest. I'll be back here in two days."

"Aye, me laird," they said again.

After a final glare at them to drive home the importance of his commands, Brendan turned and headed out of the door. Fortune finally shone upon him, and while he could hardly believe how well the capture had gone, he was now determined to make the most of it. He was remembering the soft smell of the MacMillan girl when he arrived at the stables.

"Well? What happened?" John Flynn asked, still seated on his horse.

Grabbing the reigns of his own sturdy steed, Brendan threw his leg up and mounted his horse. He gave his closest advisor a long look. "Me day has come, John. At long last. It's taken nearly ten years, but finally, I will get me revenge."

"Is it Laird MacLachlan in there with the MacMillan lass, like the guards said?" John said.

"Indeed, it is. And now I have them both, me plan just got a whole lot better. MacMillan will pay fer what he's done. I'll see tae that."

"There are other clans out there, me laird," John said carefully.

His advisor was a thin weed of a man, with a pointed nose and a protruding mouth. His face had always reminded Brendan of a rodent. John Flynn had been his advisor for nearly eight years. His predecessor had been far too opinionated, something that had gotten him killed. But while John was careful, he was also a little gutless. He didn't entirely agree with Brendan's vendetta, but he was too scared to say so directly.

Brendan jerked the reins and clicked his tongue, telling his horse to walk on. John followed suit, and the two men rode side by side.

"I ken, well, there are other clans, John," Brendan said, struggling to keep the frustration from his tone. "But those other clans didnae shun me and leave me out in the cold. Conor MacMillan should have allied our clans when he had the chance. Now, I'm going tae destroy him."

"I have tae wonder if all this effort is really worth it."

Brendan glared at John. "O' course it's worth it. Besides, I dinnae want any other clan. The lands the MacMillan clan own are vast and worth a lot o' coin. Ye ken the alliance was never about needing the union."

"Nae. Ye wanted tae get rid o' Laird MacMillan and take over his entire clan." John nodded knowingly.

"Exactly. But now that Laird MacLachlan is going tae marry the MacMillan's oldest daughter, that chance has been snatched from me. Until today. Once I've tortured the information I need out o' him, I can get rid o' him too."

"Which means, Laird MacMillan willnae have an ally," John said.

"And so, I'm back where I started. I dinnae need his union. I'll get rid o' him and take over his clan by force."

"And what o' the girl?"

Brendan grinned as his groin twitched at the thought of her. "Och, I have many plans fer her."

John flicked an uncomfortable glance at him. "I mean the ransom."

"MacMillan will pay if he thinks I'll keep her alive. His daughters are his life. I ken that much. I will send a note and demand a ridiculous amount. An amount that will cripple him. And tae get his precious child back, he will pay it." Brendan smirked as they neared the village they were heading to. "He'll just never see his daughter again."

"Or his soon-to-be son-in-law," John added.

"I might get some coin for him too, if I ask. I was a fool nae tae think o' it ‘afore. It never occurred tae me tae snatch him. With the strength his clan will bring tae MacMillan, he's almost as important as the girl. But now I have him, I plan tae make good use o' him."

Travelling down the cobbled street, they eventually arrived outside The Thistle. The tavern was like any other, small and inconspicuous. Somewhere no one knew them. It was to be Brendan and John's home for the next few days. Or, as long as it took for Brendan to break Edan MacLachlan.

The men dismounted and tied up their horses. As usual, John looked worried. "What if he doesnae talk?"

Brendan smirked. "Och, he'll talk, me friend. Let us get some food, and I'll tell ye why."

When they entered the boisterous tavern, their ears were assaulted with a clash of sounds. The fast, high-pitched fiddle and thumping bodhran competed with punters' laughter, excited conversations, and a few men at the bar arguing.

Threading through the room, Brendan snagged a table as far away from anyone else as possible and lowered himself into a chair. John sat down opposite.

"Why?" John pressed, clearly eager to know how Brendan was so certain.

The laird was about to reply when a pretty maid arrived at their table asking what they wanted. Brendan grabbed the wench around the waist and pulled her down onto his knee.

"How about ye, me lovely?" he growled.

He had been aroused since being so close to Caitlyn MacMillan, and it would do him no harm to get rid of the building frustration between his thighs.

The lass laughed uncomfortably, before pushing herself off him. "Come now, gentlemen. What'll ye have?"

They ordered ale and stew with fresh bread, and then the maid was gone, not before Brendan threw a lingering look at her voluptuous retreating behind.

"Ye were saying?" John continued, now that they were finally alone.

Brendan frowned, trying to remember what they had been talking about. "Och, Laird MacLachlan."

"Aye. Ye were going tae tell me why ye thought he would definitely talk."

"Because o' her," Brendan said.

John's brows knotted as he turned his head and looked at the maid who had just left them.

"Nae her, ye eejit. I mean the MacMillan lass. Caitlyn."

John still frowned and shook his head. "Why? That doesnae make any sense. He's betrothed tae the other sister."

Brendan looked John straight in the eye. "Believe me, John. Betrothed he may be, but he cares about this one too. I'm certain o' it."

"How can ye possibly ken that?" John blurted.

Brendan shrugged. "He was protecting her the entire time I was there."

"Surely, that's only natural under the circumstances, me laird. They've both been captured. This lass is the younger sister o' the woman he's about tae marry. Perhaps he feels it's his duty tae protect her, as any decent man would."

Brendan shook his head. "Ye werenae there, John. It was more than that. He was filled with rage when I laid my hands upon her. Fiery, jealous rage."

After considering his words, John said, "Ye're thinking o' using her tae get him tae talk."

Brendan nodded with an evil smirk. "It'll be interesting tae see where this goes. Besides, I cannae say I willnae take great pleasure in it."

Not long after that, their ale and stew arrived. After giving the maid a slap on her rounded backside, Brendan tucked in hungrily. He had some business to attend to on the morrow. It was arduous and he resented it. He would far sooner prefer to be getting down to business with Laird MacLachlan. But that would have to wait, even though the anticipation sent a thrill of excitement through him.