Chapter 21

21

M agnus's jaw clenched as Reggie Hogg offered his opinion on matters that were not his to comment on. But Magnus steeled himself against the words that would come regardless. He had learned that it was often better to let him speak than to attempt to argue with him.

"Ye heeded me warnin' with the arms?" Reggie observed contently.

"Aye, yer warnin' of dangers were taken seriously, but there is nay coup."

His words could not have come at a more accurate time as a hush fell across the green. Armed clansmen made themselves visible, causing the patrons to withdraw.

"What have ye planned?" Magnus accused, his eyes scouring for his family. Scarlett stood in the bakery stall, but he could not see his brother or wife.

"This is nae me doin', man. Ye need to act." Reggie scoffed. His scowl was stern, but Magnus heeded his words

"Men, with me," Magnus called to his clansmen, who had been sanctioned for carrying long swords. His men stepped forward, standing before their own kin, with an air of confusion and hesitation.A woman's scream rang, echoing off the walls of the courtyard. Magnus searched for Erin, his heart quickening by a pace.

"Go to her, man. A laird's priority is an heir and the woman who will bear the bairn," Reggie urged him. Magnus needed no other encouragement to tend to his wife.

"Erin!" Magnus's voice rang out as he surged forward.

"When last I saw them, they were behind the stalls," Scarlett called, guiding her brother in the right direction.

He rounded the quiet whiskey stand, hunting the scattered groups for his wife.

"Where are ye, lass?" he breathed, scanning the sea of tartan clan bodies. His chest tightened With a fear he hadn't felt since his father's brutal reign.He spied her off to the side near the keep, standing near the motionless figures of Hayden and Caelan. Despite the relief of seeing her with his most trusted men, he continued towards her.

"Erin, is everythin' well?"

She looked at him with fear etched across her face. Magnus slowed his pace, taking in the situation. He had to be missing something.

Caelan turned, revealing the sword he held towards Hayden. The man-at-arms reacted like a foe was approaching and not his trusted laird. He grabbed a fistful of Hayden's clothing, putting himself behind the younger brother.

Magnus's approach halted with the sight of his own brother, bloodied and trembling, held at sword-point by Caelan. Magnus's gut twisted in shock and disbelief.

"Release him!" Magnus bellowed. "Caelan, ye're one of me own! Why do ye turn yer blade against yer kin?"

A misplaced smile crept over Caelan's face as the man tipped his head. "Kin? Nay, Laird McCormack," he sneered. "Ye ken me as Caelan, but I am Archer Gallagher."

Magnus's grip on his sword faltered, the name striking him like a physical blow. "Gallagher..." he whispered, horror dawning upon him.

"Aye," Archer confirmed, tightening his hold on Hayden as the younger man's eyes pleaded for mercy. "Son to the very councilman who stood against yer faither's tyranny. Remember how the laird slaughtered me kin? Left me for dead beneath the corpses of me own family?"

"I remember," Magnus confessed, though it was something he wished he could forget. Councilman Gallagher had been very much like Reggie; his outspoken ways made him worthy of death in the late laird's eyes. Magnus had been so young at the time, his only memory of the punishment rather than the supposed crime. He was rumored to have staged a coup, and before Magnus's father had him killed, he made the poor man slay his entire family. "I deeply regret the incident, but the past cannae be undone. The whole family died."

"Nay, me laird. One survived." Caelan, , now Archer corrected.

"Archer?" Magnus nodded.

"Aye." Archer confirmed. "It took a long time to earn yer trust. All for this moment."

"Ye did all this to hurt Hayden?"

"Nay. To hurt ye the way yer faither hurt me."

"How?" It hurt enough seeing his brother with a sword against him, with his hands pressing into his abdomen. Magnus had enough scare of his own to know the wound alone was unlikely to kill Hayden, but delaying treatment put him at greater risk. But how would his brother's blood atone for what their father did?

"Yer quarrel is with me, nae them," Magnus growled. "Let me brother go."

Archer's smile twisted into a snarl, and the cold edge of his blade pressed tighter against Hayden's throat. Magnus knew that every second mattered, he had to do something.

"Make yer move, laird," Archer taunted. "Show us if ye're truly different from the tyrant who sired ye."

As desperation clawed at his insides, Magnus knew the next moments would change everything. With a steely gaze fixed upon Archer, he readied himself for what must come next. This was not just a battle for power; it was a fight for redemption—for honor, family, and a love that had taken him by storm, fierce as the highland gales.

And so, with the fate of his clan teetering on the brink of a sword's edge, Magnus Black prepared to make his stand.

"What do ye want?" Magnus demanded. He had given up so much of himself to protect Hayden as they grew; now, he was being asked to give more.

"I want ye to suffer as I have."

"Release him, and we can talk. Ye were wronged by me faither. Let us discuss how to make it right." Magnus's patience was wearing thin, but there was little he could do with his bleeding brother being used as a shield.

Archer's lips curled into a smirk. "Aye, I will let yer precious heir go." However, he made no effort to release Hayden.

"But first, ye must prove where yer loyalties lie." His gaze turned to Erin. "Kill the lass."

The words struck Magnus like a physical blow, sending ripples of shock through his towering frame. How could he spill the blood of the woman who had unexpectedly become his everything? She was as innocent as Hayden in all of this. As his father's son, Magnus would take some of the blame for the terrible things that happened to Archer, but he could not pick between his wife and his brother.

"Ye cannae ask that of me," Magnus breathed, his voice unsteady. She was more than just his wife, more than a simple convenience. She was his, and he was a better man because of it.

"Make yer choice, Magnus Black," Archer taunted, pressing the blade enough to draw a thin line of blood from Hayden's skin. "What's more important, yer kin or a marriage that shouldnae have been?"

Magnus's mind raced, haunted by memories of his father's cruelty and his promise to shield Hayden from such darkness. But as he glanced at Erin, her blue eyes ablaze with a fire that matched the untamed spirit of the highlands. If he chose neither, he condemned his brother to death.

He could not; no, he would not be the monster Archer wanted to paint him as. Magnus had faced danger before and been in many situations where he had expected death. But he had never been in a situation where he had the responsibility of another's life like this. This was the very reason why he kept his siblings at a distance; it was why he vowed never to marry. He had put his trust in the wrong man.

He could only play for time for so long that Hayden's wound was a ticking clock, pushing him to make a decision that was impossible to make.

"Daenae fool yerself. She's naught but convenience wrapped in a bonny fa?ade," Archer spat venomously. "Yer brother, though—he's yer blood, yer heir. Would ye really cast him aside for her?" Archer pointed at Erin with his sword hand, in doing so, he moved the blade from Hayden's throat.

Magnus' jaw clenched, and his legs moved him forward. But it was Hayden who also reacted in the same heartbeat, turning himself and wrenching free from Archer's grasp with a desperate twist.

"Erin!" Magnus barely had time to shout before she launched into action. Her hand found the dirk concealed in the folds of her skirt and sent it flying with deadly accuracy. It struck Archer's thigh as he reached for Hayden. Magnus ran, feeling the world in slow motion around him. Hayden backing away from Archer as the man-at-arms reached for him, and Magnus feared he would not get to them in time.

His sword pointed ahead of him, grasped in two strong hands, aimed perfectly at Archer. The sword struck the man just as Archer reached Hayden. Magnus's battle cry drowned out any cry from the man, but his hatred for Magnus didn't falter, even as he fell under the force of Magnus's blade.

As Magnus bore down on him, he lashed out in a cruel, final act of defiance, grabbing at Hayden's legs with a snarl. The younger Black's legs were swept from beneath him, the unforeseen force sending him crashing back against the unforgiving brick wall of the keep. Hayden's head struck with a sickening thud, and his body crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

"NO!" Magnus bellowed, his voice echoing off the highland stones, raw with fear. Time itself seemed to slow as he leaned over Archer, his sword raised high. With each strike, memories of a childhood overshadowed by brutality flashed before his eyes—memories he'd sworn would never repeat under his watch.

Magnus brought his blade down with all the might of his ancestors, channeling every ounce of rage and sorrow into the strike. Then finally Archer Gallagher fell still. The threat to Magnus's clan, to his brother, to his reluctant bride, lay vanquished at his feet, but victory tasted like ash in Magnus' mouth.

"Erin," he gasped, turning to her with a mix of desperation and gratitude. She was already approaching Hayden's still form.

"Is... is Hayden…" Magnus couldn't finish, he couldn't bear the weight of another loss, not when his heart was already so torn.

"Alive," she confirmed, pressing her head against Hayden's chest. "But we must tend to him quickly, call for the healer."

Magnus nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from the still form of his brother. He reached for Hayden, cradling him in his arms as he had as a wee bairn, no more than a child himself. Hayden's head lolled back as Magnus rose. For all that had happened to cost him his brother now was unthinkable, but Hayden was unmoving, bleeding from his abdomen and now also his head. Only now did Magnus know true fear.

Magnus walked to the main door of the castle, passing the clansmen fighting one another. "Enough," he bellowed, his voice breaking under the strain. "Yer coup is over. Lay down yer arms and no one else needs to get hurt."

The fighting men looked up, the sight of Hayden gravely wounded in their laird's arms was enough to give pause to the fighting. Scarlett gasped, running across to her brothers.

"Where is the healer?" Magnus called urgently. "Please, someone find the healer."

Erin placed a comforting hand on Magnus's arm, before using the fabric of her skirt to wipe the blood trickling down his arm.

"They'll listen to ye," she encouraged, her words acting as a moment of clarity to Magnus. "They always do."

With a grim nod, Magnus surveyed the battlefield, his gaze commanding the attention of his clansmen. Amongst them, faces turned toward him, etched with confusion and regret. Brothers had fought brothers; kin had drawn blood against kin. But now, they lowered their weapons, the will to fight drained by the true cost of loyalty.

"Seize those who conspired against this clan!" Magnus ordered. His men moved swiftly, rounding up the remnants of the coup with grim faces. They may have been hesitant to fight their own, but they were resolute in their duty.

"Ye think we can trust 'em after this?" Reggie questioned. "What will ye do with them?"

Magnus stiffened at more questioning by the councilman. "Enough blood has been spilled. I'll see nay more of it."

"To the dungeons, then?" Reggie asked. "Ye can leave the rest with me, me laird."

Magnus nodded curtly, before he resumed his route to the healing room. Erin and Scarlett followed behind like lost lambs, and behind them, the healer and her daughters hurried after them.

Magnus would not allow his brother to die today; the Blacks were tougher than that. They were too damn stubborn.