Chapter 12

Aloud holler was heard outside. "Colleen!" Isla's voice shouted over the gate. "Why is this pesky gate barricaded? Lift it up noo, please! I'm stuck oot here!"

Colleen had been stirring the soup for supper very absentmindedly when she heard her sister's thin, reedy shouts. Startled, but more relieved than she could say, Colleen ran to the gate, leaving the lantern inside the cottage. It was pitch black, but she knew every inch of her homestead like the back of her hand. The waning moon scuttled behind a dark bank of clouds, but it was not enough to make her afraid.

Since Arran told her she could not stay at the cottage until Laird MacKenzie was overthrown, she appreciated every little thing so much more. The contented clucks from the brooding hens, the honks from the geese, the chuckling and bubbling of the burn; all of these things made up the fabric of her existence like a well-woven length of linen cloth. All that was left for her to do was get her little sister and leave. They could stay with Agnes. Colleen did not feel comfortable accepting hospitality from anyone in the MacMillan clan anymore. Her rejection of David might have ruffled a few feathers.

The geese honked at the gate and spread their wings to make themselves look bigger. "Hush!" Colleen laughed. "It's only Isla, ye silly geese."

Opening the gate was not easy. She had bound it closed with the thickest, heaviest chain she could find and then dropped the heavy post to barricade it shut. There was a pulley and weight. Colleen grunted and strained as she pulled up the gatepost. Isla was standing at the entrance holding the horse's reins tightly, but she was not alone.

"Ewan!" Colleen felt her lip curl with scorn as she said her brother's name. "Ye're nae welcome here. Go back to yer bully boys and sneaking laird. I'm done with ye."

Isla's eyes sparkled with tears, easy to see in the moonlight. "But Colleen! I've been having a lovely chat with Ewan as we walked home together. He was waiting for me ootside the village to apologize. He says he's sorry and wants to come back home. Let him in, ye mean witch."

Lulled into a false sense of security because her brother had not brought any of the MacKenzie soldiers with him, Colleen turned on her heel to go back to the cottage, saying, "I'll hear what ye have to say, Brither, but dinnae think that ye can lie yer way back into me affection. Too much water has passed under the bridge for that."

She did not notice Ewan turn to Isla and bid her ride back to the village. "Please deliver a message to the mercenary, dearest Sister. It will nae take ye longer than a wink of the eye and the evening is still young. Tell him to come back here. I have found a way to make peace between the clans, but I need his help to do it." Ewan knew that Isla would have heard nothing about Arran's latest injury, so she would not be suspicious of her errand.

Isla nodded, bursting with excitement that she would be part of the peace treaty. "Och aye, Brither. How marvelous! Arran will be at the tavern. I promise to get him to come."

Colleen frowned when Ewan came in without their younger sister. "Where's Isla? I need her to pack her belongings. Thanks to that bloody Laird Torquil of yers, we cannae stay here anymore."

Very much at his ease, her brother sat down at the table. He was not wearing armor, so Colleen was able to see the changes time had etched on his face. Like her, Ewan had thick brown hair, but unlike her it was cut close to his head. Wearing a helmet all day must get hot in summer. His eyes were hazel, not amber, but he shared the same regular features as his sisters, only with more masculine angularity.

He was a grown man now; the youth who had run out of the cottage dashing tears of sorrow away from his eyes all those years ago was gone. Ewan tried to break the ice.

"Colleen, ye have become quite the bonny maiden. Has the mercenary died? Part of me is racked with guilt for the way I skewered him with me sword, but I couldnae help it—me instincts took over."

Ignoring him, Colleen went to the door to look for Isla. Craning her head around the frame, she tried to see if Isla was in the barn putting the horse back into its stall. Ewan interrupted her thoughts.

"Laird Torquil wants peace, Sis. He's lost too many men. And he's tortured with regret for the way he acted. The man is fond of his whisky, ye ken, and often does things he later regrets."

Speaking over her shoulder, Colleen scoffed. "There can only be peace when yon Torquil stops pestering the village and farms. Why cannae he just wait for the King's ruling on the matter? If he had shown a better face to the world we might have settled oor differences without the need for a judgment."

Ewan explained. "Dinnae ye hear me mention the whisky? It addles his brain. Now it's time for ye to answer a few of me questions. Where did ye bury the mercenary?"

The two siblings faced one another off across the cottage front room. Colleen spoke first. "Ye sat back and allowed MacKenzie to pry under me kirtle, Ewan. I want ye gone by the time Isla and I get back from the barn. Other than that, I have nothing more to say to ye. I can see ye have nae changed." With her head held high, Colleen stepped out into the dark night. She did not get far into the barn before she knew Isla and the horse were not inside. Whirling around to go and confront her brother, Colleen did not even see the log of wood come down on the top of her head with such force that she dropped to her knees with a long moan of pain.

Isla and Arranmet each other on the road. He was striding back to the cottage, eager to put as much distance as he could between himself and the merry villagers wassailing in the tavern. Isla was bursting with news, imagining how the villagers would hail her as the best girl in the Highlands when they saw how she had organized a peaceful settlement for them.

"Master Arran! I am so glad to see ye. I met me brither, Ewan, and he says all this fighting has been a big mistake. He is so kind and gallant, and grown so elegant with the finest hose and jerkin, I hardly recognized him!"

Smiling, because her excitement was so genuine and trying very hard to suppress a vague feeling of consternation, Arran held the horse's bridle and helped the young girl turn the animal around. "Let me get this straight, Isla. Ye just happened to meet yer brither on the road? How is it that I did nae see ye when I came to Aberkin to fetch ye back home?"

Isla shrugged off the logical question with a wide smile. "Oh, Ewan has left Laird MacKenzie's service. Isn't that good news? He was hiding in one of the copses in the forest, thinking about what to do with his auld armor. When he looked across the field and saw me, he said it was a miracle because he wanted to get back to the cottage to apologize to Colleen too."

Arran had heard enough. He did not trust Ewan one bit and even if the lad had changed sides, Colleen would need help explaining to her brother how it was that the mercenary was still alive—and with no sword wound in his belly. Vaulting up into the saddle, he told Isla to go back to the village and tell the local folk everything if Colleen and he did not come to the market in the morning. Kicking the horse into a lively canter, Arran raced it back to the cottage.

It was too late. There was no sign of Colleen. The gate gaped open and one lonely lantern light flickered in the window as he approached the cottage. For a moment, he dared to hope that his love was waiting for him inside and that they could fall into bed together and spend the night whispering words of comfort to one another. Instead, he found Ewan.

"Welcome to the Cunninghams' humble cottage, Master Mercenary. Laird Torquil and I worked oot that ye possessed some remarkable healing skills, so dinnae try to bamboozle me with a lame excuse— I ken what I saw with me own two eyes. And if ye ever want to see me sister again, ye will come to MacKenzie castle and explain things a wee bit more to us."

In a way, it was almost a relief to finally know they had discovered his secret. Now he did not have to hide in the dark anymore. "And what will happen to yer sister if I do as ye ask? I have no wish to see her languish in prison with me. What good will that do us?" Arran scowled at the confident traitor.

"All is fair in love and war, Master. At least give Colleen the right to choose between Torquil and ye. If she chooses ye, then I'm sure the laird will be gracious and no harm done."

Arran could feel his blood boiling. "No harm done? Ye let Laird MacKenzie sample yer sister like she were a ripe peach on sale at the market! Ye disgust me. Where is yer loyalty to the two sisters ye have left? They love ye, Ewan. They have cried many tears for ye. And this is how ye repay them?"

Ewan Cunningham's face twisted as he held back his emotions. "Are ye coming with me or not? Make up yer mind!"

"I will come with ye. But I promise ye this, Ewan Cunningham. I have been to hell and back—and it is nae the sort of place where ye would want to damn yer immortal soul to live forever."

Ewan was unnaturallyquiet as they mounted their horses. They took the east road toward MacKenzie land. As they crossed over the boundary, Arran spat on the road. "This place is cursed and all yer souls are lost. In all me long years, I have never seen a man made happy by jewels or gold…or taxes. And it is for that ye sold yer sisters' lives away."

When Arran looked at Ewan, he could see the lad's heart was torn, but still the young man tried to stand up for his actions. "Rich folks hire outriders to protect them on their travels! Gold and jewels can pay for guards and sentries and weapons! If me family had been rich, d'ye think I would be here noo?"

Arran scoffed and spat again. "Ye think in the short term of yer pathetic life. But what aboot after, Ewan? In hell?"

The young man was spooked and doing his best to hide it. "How do ye ken?" Arran was very good at reading people's minds. He had dozens and dozens of years of experience doing it and he knew how to manipulate people and bend them to his will. "I ken because of the dark magic I possess. If ye dinnae repent and change yer ways, Ewan, no amount of gold will save ye from the eternal fire."

Unfortunately, the castle stronghold torches could be seen twinkling in the night ahead of them. As the horse got closer, Arran noticed the huge sconces on either side of the great gateway. The courtyard was bright enough for Arran to see everything inside the castle walls. The barracks for the men at arms was modest, but looked comfortable. "Och, lad, I can see auld Torquil is keeping ye in regal style. What rich rewards ye have for selling oot yer own flesh and blood." Arran's voice was thick with sarcasm.

Ewan ignored him. Now that he was back with his troop and able to show off the status he got from being a captain, he was looking more confident. "Take this fellow down to the dungeons. Put him in the cell next to me sister. Let them keep each other company until Laird Torquil wants to speak to them."

The soldiers shrunk back. "B-but, Captain, the Highlander is still carrying his sword…"

"He will nae use it, lads. Not when me sisters are needing his cooperation. The mercenary is as meek as a lamb and will nae hurt a fly."