Chapter 14

Isabelle, Keelin, and Cara were all tending to the wounded when Madden and Lorcan barged into the hall, with Arran hanging seemingly lifeless from Madden's shoulder. Cara gasped and ran forward. "Place him on the table," she commanded, shoving everything and everyone out of the way. Madden obeyed, laying Arran down on the table.

"Me braither?" Isabelle asked as she came to stand by his side.

"He is alive," Madden reassured her.

"He is only alive because this man threw his own body in front of the enemy's sword," Lorcan informed them, laying a brotherly hand on Madden's uninjured shoulder.

"Allow me tae tend tae yer wound," Isabelle offered.

Madden shook his head. "Nae. Be with yer braither and Cara. They need ye more than I dae right now."

Isabelle nodded, but motioned with her head for Keelin to tend to Madden if he would let her. Keelin nodded in understanding and did as bidden. "Let me look at yer shoulder," Keelin instructed.

"I am well. It is nae but a wee scratch. Tend tae Lorcan's arm," Madden gestured towards the still bleeding gash on Lorcan's arm.

Keelin's eyes widened and she stepped forward to take control of the dark giant. Lorcan smiled at her and surrendered himself to her care as she clucked and fussed over him. "Ye should have been more careful," she chastised as she removed his torn shirt and examined the wound. "What were ye thinking?"

"I was thinking that I did nae want the enemy tae win the battle," Lorcan answered, his voice amused at her chastisement.

"Madden," Arran's voice rasped, summoning him to his side. Madden moved over to stand beside the table where Arran lay. "Ye saved me life," Arran breathed in gratitude. "I owe ye fer that."

Madden shook his head. "Ye owe me nothing."

Arran winced as the healer cleaned his wound and began to sew his skin back together. "The healer says otherwise," Arran argued. "He says had it nae been fer yer quick action, I would have bled out on that field. Thanks tae ye, I will live tae fight another day."

Madden smiled but shook his head. "I am pleased tae hear that ye will live tae fight another day, but ye owe me nothing."

Arran, too tired and in pain to argue, let it pass. "See tae me men, would ye? Clearly, I am in nae state tae be doing so."

"Aye," Madden nodded. "I will see tae the men. Dae we ken who attacked us?"

Arran shook his head, then winced again. "I dinnae ken. We dinnae have any true enemies at this time. I cannae imagine who would have broken the peace in this way without me kenning what led tae it."

Madden nodded. "Rest. I will speak tae the men and see if they have any more information." Madden turned to Lorcan and lowered his voice so that only they could hear his words. "Watch over him. Those men were determined tae kill him. I cannae help but believe that this was more an attempt tae kill yer laird than it was tae take the castle. There may still be an assassin lurking about."

Lorcan nodded. "I will nae leave his side."

Madden nodded in return, gave Isabelle one last look as she tended to her brother, then walked outside to see to Arran's men. Madden walked through them, asking questions, directing the wounded to the hall. As he rounded the side of the castle where the enemy dead had been laid out, he saw two men standing over the bodies hunched together and recognized the voices of Bain Sutherland and his man Athol. He could not make out what they were saying, but the look on their faces as they looked down at the men was not what he would have expected.

Bain suddenly looked up, and seeing Madden, hushed Athol mid-sentence. "What dae ye want, Kinnaird?" Bain demanded. "Can ye nae see that we are busy?"

"The Laird MacKay asked me tae see tae his men," Madden answered, moving around to look at the faces of the enemy to see if he could identify from whence they had come.

"We are nae his men, and neither are they," Bain motioned at the bodies. "Athol and I are dealing with the dead. Ye can return tae the castle with the women and children," Bain sneered at him in derision.

"Ye will be pleased tae ken that yer wife is alive and well in the great hall attending tae the wounded," Madden informed him, his voice carrying more suggestion than he had meant for it to. It angered Madden that Bain had not given a thought to his own wife's safety.

"How dae ye ken where me wife is?" Bain demanded to know. A jealous anger flared in his eyes. Madden's tone had not gone unnoticed.

Madden knew that he should not anger the man further, but he could not help himself. "Her braither was badly wounded. I carried him in tae see the healer and she was there. Ye would ken that fer yerself had ye thought tae seek out her wellbeing instead of whispering in darkened corners with yer man here."

Bain charged towards him with fury in his eyes, but Madden sidestepped him and avoided the punch to his face. Athol reached out and laid a hand on Bain's shoulder as if to restrain him in an odd gesture. Madden questioned the man's motives but did not wait around to see what else might occur. He was concerned that if he remained anywhere near Bain Sutherland, he would say something that would put Isabelle in genuine danger. Turning, Madden walked away.

"Ye will get yers soon enough, Madden Kinnaird. Mark me words," Bain called after him angrily, then turned and went back to speaking with Athol.

Something is nae right, Madden mused to himself. I cannae be certain as tae what, but Bain Sutherland and his man Athol are nae as they seem.

It took hours to see to all of the wounded, but at long last the fighting men of the clan had been cleaned, fed, and commanded to rest. Cara and Lorcan had gone with Arran to aid in his recovery in the privacy of his own bedchamber. Isabelle and Keelin had remained behind to help clean up the hall after the whirlwind of activity that had turned it upside down.

Isabelle paused in her own labors and looked up at Keelin. "Are ye angry with me?"

Keelin looked up and met Isabelle's eyes. She did not ask what she was talking about. She knew. "Dae ye love him?"

Isabelle in turn knew that she was not talking about Bain, but Madden. "I dinnae ken him well enough tae answer that question."

Keelin studied Isabelle's face, then shook her head. "It is clear tae anyone with eyes that Bain daes nae love ye. I cannae judge ye fer seeking the affections of a better man. Love is never simple, but nae matter how it comes in tae yer life, it should be cherished. I just want ye both tae be happy."

Isabelle shook her head. "I dinnae believe that such a thing is possible fer me."

Before Keelin could respond, Madden reentered the hall. The look on his face was one of concern. "Isabelle, might we speak," he requested. "Alone?"

Isabelle nodded. "Follow me." Isabelle led him out of the hall, through the lady's chapel, and out into the flower garden beyond. The smell of roses and lavender filled the air. "This was me mother's favorite place."

"It is bonnie," he complimented the space.

Isabelle turned back to face him and noticed that his wound had not been tended to. "Why have ye nae sought care fer your wound? All of the other men of the clan have been tended tae. There is nae excuse fer ye nae tae be cared fer now."

Madden shook his head. "It will keep."

"Allow me tae at least clean away the blood," she requested, taking a bowl of water and a cloth from the chapel and motioning for him to take a seat on the stone bench along the garden wall. He obeyed. She sat down beside him and instructed him to remove his shirt. He did so and she began to clean his wounds. "When I saw ye and Arran enter the hall, I feared the worst. I thank ye with all of me heart fer saving me braither's life. He is all of the family that I have left."

Madden took the wet cloth from her hand and held her fingers in his. "Me wounds are nae what I need tae speak with ye about," Madden informed her.

The seriousness of his tone told Isabelle that he needed her full attention. "What is it? Did ye ascertain who did this?"

Madden shook his head. "I dinnae ken anything fer certain, but I need ye tae tell me everything that ye ken about Bain Sutherland and his man Athol." He leveled a look at Isabelle that said he was dead serious. "And I dae mean everything, including what he has against ye."

Isabelle breathed in sharply. "Ye dinnae think that…" She could not finish the sentence.

"Everything, Isabelle, and spare naething."