13. A Hollow Victory

13

A HOLLOW VICTORY

J ames took in a deep breath through his nose and pushed it out of his mouth, forcing the bile that had risen to his throat back down. He kept his eyes on the tip of his boots, studying the scuffs and caked on mud, doing his best to ignore the rest of the room. Losing his breakfast on the floor of the Great Hall would not bode well for him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to settle his stomach or his nerves.

“Where is our hero?” the Laird called, silencing the hum of conversations that had grown louder with every second that passed since Taryn had been escorted out.

Clenching his teeth, James swallowed hard. He had hoped he would have been able to avoid all the commotion. Laird McGregor waved him forward, dashing any chance of that.

“Welcome him, lads and lasses. Here is the man who has saved us all!”

With every step James took closer to the dais, more people moved out of his way, creating a clear path to the exact same spot Taryn had been standing in only minutes before. He knew his conversation with Laird was going to be entirely different, but he still felt just as horrible.

“Three cheers for James,” the Laird declared as soon as James was standing in front of him.

The entire room echoed the cheers, creating a nearly deafening roar. James couldn’t help but wonder if Taryn could hear it and what she thought of the entire clan celebrating her capture.

“I must say,” Laird McGregor told James once the room had quieted once more. “Ye have done this clan a great service. Ye have given us all hope, for the first time in three years, that all of this misery and suffering will soon be over. Thanks to ye, we will be able to send a peace offering to Baron Dudley.”

“I had reasons of my own, but I am glad to ken the clan will be safe once more.”

“A feast,” the Laird said as if he hadn’t heard James speak at all. “We must have a feast to celebrate yer magnificent catch. The entire clan will be invited. They will all want to ken who is responsible for their ensured future.”

“I would much rather the food from a feast be divided up and given to the families most in need.”

“A verra noble man indeed, then, to continue to think of yer clan first.” Laird McGregor nodded approvingly as he stroked his chin. “There must be some way I can repay ye. A reward, perhaps? Allow me to give ye that for all yer hard work tracking and hunting her down.”

James blanched. Taryn had used almost the same words in her accusation against him for only seeing her as a prize animal to catch. She hadn’t understood what was at stake then, but hearing Laird McGregor consider a member of his clan, his own flesh and blood, as such made it all seem so depraved.

“Nay,” James refused outright. “I dinnae want any celebrations or rewards. All I ask is that ye secure safe passage for my sister to return home.”

“Yer sister?” the Laird questioned.

“Aye,” Jonah, Taryn’s father, spoke up. “The tailor’s daughter who helped Taryn escape in the first place. Lily? Maybe Lauren?”

“Laura. Her name is Laura,” James corrected sharply.

He was stricken to know that Laird McGregor had so quickly forgotten about the member of his clan who had been taken captive. It seemed such an impossibility that such an important detail could slip the man’s memory.

But the more James was getting to see of Laird McGregor, the more apparent it became that the man had grown weary of leading his clan. The way Taryn’s parents continued to interject or whisper in the Laird’s ear was proof enough of who really ran the clan.

At Jonah’s reminder of who Laura was and the part she played in their current circumstances, Laird McGregor narrowed his eyes. Though his expression was still thoughtful, it was significantly less appeasing.

“I will do what I can to bargain for the lass’ release.”

It was a diplomatic answer at best. At worst, it was a thinly veiled lie to pacify James into going home with no guarantee that his sister would be granted her freedom again. The knots in his stomach turned to fire, his dark mood growing darker by the second.

“That is nae enough,” James argued, not particularly caring that he was speaking so harshly to his Laird. “When I set off for Taryn as ye requested, I did nae tell ye I would ‘do what I could.’ I told ye that I would come back with her, or I would nae come back at all. In return, ye promised me whatever I asked for. I held up my end of the bargain. Now it is time to keep yer word.”

“Let me remind ye just who it is ye are speaking to, lad,” Jonah warned, his voice full of condescension.

“I ken verra well who I am speaking to,” James assured them, an underlying tone of sarcasm as the words dripped out with the same forced politeness Taryn’s parents always seemed to speak with. “I am addressing my Laird, the man who vowed, long before I was born, to guide and protect the people of his clan. Laura is still verra much a member of this clan. She was born within McGregor borders. She has spent her entire life in the clan that sits on the other side of those walls.”

He pointed to the windows. Beyond the glass, the tops of the buildings that made up the village could be seen, furthering his point.

“She has served ye and yer family her entire life. In fact, she made the verra clothes ye are all wearing. I dinnae deny that Laura made a mistake, but she was a young lass doing what she thought was best. I did nae realize that a simple error in judgment was all it took to be dismissed from this clan. If that is the case, then I am surprised that there are any of us left standing.”

“Ye have made yer point,” Jonah bit out.

His pinched expression told James that he had hit a nerve in the older man. He doubted that Jonah liked being shown so blatantly wrong, but James wasn’t quite done.

“I mean only to remind the Laird that Laura is one of our own. She has been taken from her home. Surely, that is punishment enough for her mistake. Now, I have done as ye asked, and since I ken ye to be an honest and fair man, I am sure that ye will do whatever ye must to bring Laura back.”

The Laird watched James from behind steepled fingers, his eyes heavily guarded. A younger version of himself, a less troubled and weary, a less jaded version of James might have been worried that he had gone too far. He might have taken the Laird’s silence as a sign of his irritation or displeasure. But the James that faced him now had seen too much, had experienced too much, to fret over the approval of one man. Especially not one as weak and easily misled as Laird McGregor.

Jonah looked miffed, his head swiveling between James and his brother. After another tense moment, Laird McGregor put up a single hand.

“Ye are right, James. I will do as ye ask and ensure Laura safe passage home. Ye have my word.”

Nodding his thanks, James turned to leave the second he was dismissed. He could hardly stand to be in the same room with the likes of Taryn’s family any longer. As soon as he was in the hall, James rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the day, to no avail.

“A drink,” a decidedly gruff voice said with a firm slap on James’ back. “Ye must join us for a drink.”

James turned his head to find one of his closest friends from the guard, Alec, grinning widely at him.

“I ken that ye told the Laird ye dinnae want a feast, and that is fine. But ye can nae tell me that after months of traveling and however long ye had to put up with that lass, ye are nae desperate for a pint—or two or three.”

Alec’s mischievous smile was infectious, momentarily washing away James’ foul mood. And he was right—it had been a difficult few months. A drink with his friends might be just what he needed to make sense of his swirling thoughts.

“Aye, Alec,” James conceded. “I will join ye. But just for one. I need to go see my Ma after that. She will have heard I am back and is nae doubt driving my father half crazy with her worry.”

Alec draped his heavy arm across James’ shoulders and started to pull him out of the castle and towards the nearest tavern.

“Dinnae fash. We will get ye home in plenty of time to see yer Ma.”

Much like his entrance to the Great Hall, as soon as James stepped foot inside the tavern, cheers erupted from everyone in sight. They threw their mugs in the air, sloshing their ale over the sides in his honor. More than a handful of them rose from their seats to clap James on the back or shake his hand. They all offered him words of congratulations, thanking him for solving all of their problems.

Eventually, someone pressed a full mug into his hand and insisted he drink. James didn’t have to be told twice. He downed it all in three large gulps, earning him another round of cheers. Yet, every time someone offered him their thanks or told him how he had saved them all, James could only think of the look of terror that had been etched into Taryn’s face as the guards pulled her away.

He found himself wondering if she had truly been thrown into a cell, if she was all right. He tried to convince himself it was only natural, his caring about her well-being, after seeing to her survival and safety, was his sole purpose for the last week. But it was a lie not even he could believe.

Two mugs in and James had nestled himself into a cozy spot by the little window of the tavern. The cold from the glass seeped into the room, cooling his flushed face. His presence had already grown uninteresting to the rest of the tavern once they discovered that he wasn’t going to share with them any stories from his travels. He was left on his own to watch the world outside the tavern.

Less than an hour after his arrival in the little pub and a group of four riders blew through the village. They were all wearing their McGregor tartans with their finest hats and boots, their horses’ coats gleaming from a fresh brushing. One of the men carried a satchel with the McGregor crest on it. They turned to go south, towards the border. Messengers then, James decided, sent off to propose peace to Baron Dudley. They would no doubt be carrying word of Taryn’s capture and the Laird’s desire to uphold their original agreement.

How the Laird could still wish to align himself with a man like the Baron after all he had done was unfathomable to James. But if that was the only way to ensure the safety of the clan, he supposed it had to be done.

While the riders’ tracks were still fresh in the snow, James stood from his seat and made to leave.

“Off so soon?” Alec asked lightheartedly.

James knew it was merely Alec’s personality and not a general lack of care or understanding that made him so easy going, but with the weight still crushing James’ shoulders, he found he wasn’t in the mood for company.

“Aye. I have already stayed longer than I intended. I ken my mother will be up, waiting for me.”

“Give her a kiss for me and tell her I will be by tomorrow as usual.”

The two men shook hands, and then James confronted the blustering winds once more. He could have gone to fetch his horse for the journey home, but the beast had already done enough, and the cold air was as refreshing as it was bracing. It didn’t take him much time at all before he was undoing the latch of the gate that led to the front door of his parents’ home, his home.

Though he knew the dreary weather didn’t help, the house looked nothing like it had during his childhood. There were no warmly glowing lanterns hanging by the front door to greet him. The once bright yellow paint that his mother had given the wooden door several summers ago was chipped and faded, mud staining the bottom. Garden beds that had once overflowed with flowers and herbs were long gone. The shutters that framed the windows were falling apart, crooked and broken.

So much had fallen apart in the past three years that went far beyond the exterior of their home. Regardless, James was glad to be back. Some of the tension he had been carrying between his right shoulder and his neck loosened as he curled his fingers around the cold metal doorknob and pushed it open.

“Ma?” he called out into the hallway. “Da? I am home.”

He stood by the front door, knocking snow and mud off his boots before he slipped out of them. A light and shadows danced over the walls, signaling his parent’s arrival.

“James? James, is that ye?”

“Aye, Ma. I’m back.”

Her wrinkled eyes went wide as she took him in. After several months of living on the road, he no doubt made quite the sight. He berated himself for not taking the time to clean up before going home. He should have known that seeing him so disheveled would have affected his mother. But before he could apologize for his messy appearance, his mother wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed hard.

Unable to stop himself, James tucked his face into her shoulder, stooping his back in order to reach. She smelled of lavender and fresh tea, as she always had. He breathed her in and let her soothing presence ease some of the ache in his chest.

“Son, glad to have ye home,” his father greeted with a hand on his back.

It felt nothing like the cajoling, proud claps he had gotten from the guards in the tower earlier that evening. His father’s touch was warm and welcoming, familiar and kind. Lifting his head, James met his father’s eyes while his mother’s arms stayed wrapped around him.

It looked and felt like staring into his own reflection. They shared the same green eyes, thick dark hair, and proud nose. His father’s eyes had several more lines in the corners and streaks of white through his hair that James had not yet inherited. James had a few scars his father had avoided, but their wide, square jaw had the same determination to it.

“I thought we had lost ye too,” his mother whispered into his chest, dampening his shirt with her tears.

“Nay, Ma. I told ye, I was going to?—”

“We ken fine what we set off to do,” his father cut him off. “And I suppose that now ye are back, that must mean ye completed yer task?”

“Come in, come in,” his mother said before James could answer his father’s question. “Ye must be tired after all these weeks on the road.”

She kept a hand on him, as if she couldn’t believe he was truly back, while she pulled him deeper into the house. The room that had once been stocked full of fabrics of all different colors and textures was now holding a few bolts of the most basic materials. They wove through the empty shelves to reach the doorway on the other side that led to the family room. There, a warm, blazing fire sat in the small hearth, emanating enough heat to make the rest of the house comfortable.

“Do ye want some tea? I will fetch the kettle. Have ye eaten? I have some bread and cheese left from dinner that I can bring.”

His mother bustled around the room after depositing James onto the sofa that had already been recovered and restaffed four times in his lifetime. He sat, sinking into the worn cushions, letting them envelop him.

“I am nae hungry, Ma,” he answered, stretching his legs out to get closer to the fire.

A moment later she popped back in, carrying a tray with steaming cups of tea, one for each of them. They all sipped their drinks, no one quite knowing what to say to the other. He knew they must have dozens of questions for him, but without having answers for his own confusion, he had no idea how he would answer them.

He thought that seeing the messengers ride out with word about Taryn’s return to the Baron would bring him some peace, some sense of fulfillment knowing that Laura would be home soon. Instead, it had him questioning if he had done the right thing. The Laird had made it more than clear that Laura’s return wasn’t his highest priority. All of his work to bring Taryn back could have been for naught.

“I did it for the both of ye. I hope ye ken that.”

Though he had spoken in the middle of a thought, his parents knew exactly what he was talking about. That much was clear from the pained expressions they both wore. He didn’t understand why they both looked so upset. They must not comprehend what he had done and why.

“I went after Taryn because the Laird made it clear, and even Taryn’s parents agreed, that the only way to put an end to all of this was for her to come back and follow through on her engagement to the baron. A few years ago, when his attacks first started, perhaps we could have gathered the forces necessary to stop him. But nae now, nae after we have all lost so much.”

He searched his mother’s face for any signs that she understood where he was coming from. She looked so much like Laura, it only deepened the ache in his chest. He wondered how his father had withstood the resemblance between his beloved wife and his lost daughter. He wondered if his mother had stopped checking her own reflection to avoid the painful reminder.

Her hair, the same rich brown that Laura sported, wasn’t tied back in the neat and tidy bun he had come to expect from her. It was instead pulled into a messy braid that hung down the length of her back. She no longer looked like the confident, elegant, put together woman he had grown up with. Now, she looked as tired and worn thin as James felt.

“I could nae stand to sit here another year, another month, nae even another day kenning that Laura was trapped there while Taryn was out, living the life she was never meant to have. If bringing her back means that the Baron will stop his campaigns against us, if there is a chance he will allow Laura to return home, I had to try. I kent I was the only one who could track Taryn down and bring her back. So I did. And now the Laird has promised to do everything in his power to see Laura returned to us, safely.”

Exacting that vow from Laird McGregor had been all he thought he needed to see the light of hope return to his parents’ eyes. But it didn’t. Instead, it only seemed to make the grief they carried deeper.

James huffed, confused by their reaction, frustration that they weren’t more grateful, more pleased with him.

“I dinnae understand,” he blurted out, setting his now empty tea cup on the table in front of him.

There was a strip of wood missing from the side of the oval table where Laura had tripped and scratched it when they were kids. James tore his eyes away from the mark that proved this had once been Laura’s home too.

His father sighed and set his cup down too. He moved to stand in front of the fire, his back to them, while he tried to think of the right words to say. When he turned back to face James, he wore a pained expression.

“I always kent that Jonah and Rowena never cherished their daughter the way parents should. Every time Taryn stepped foot in our home, it was clear to me that she was desperate for the love and affection of a parent. The saddest part is that she is so verra easy to love. She has a way about her that slips past yer defenses and convinces ye to love her before ye realize it. She does nae do it on purpose, it is just who she is.”

James didn’t know why his father was telling him this, nor did he know why it stirred something deep in his chest.

“It did nae take long before I viewed Taryn as one of my own. I truly loved her as a daughter. The news of her engagement was devastating to both yer mother and me. And when Isobel and Laura were summoned to the castle to make Taryn’s wedding dress, they both came home in shock at how distraught Taryn was. I felt hopeless then, that has nae diminished during these last three years. First, I worried that she would nae get away. Then I worried that she would nae be safe wherever she disappeared to. When the Baron attacked, my concerns were focused closer to home. Now, I worry about Laura and Taryn both.”

“That is why I went after Taryn—to bring Laura home. Now ye will ken that Laura is safe, Taryn is where she should be, and the clan is safe from any more devastating raids.”

His father only shook his head, disappointed that James didn’t see the bigger picture.

“It is a verra sad world indeed if one must trade the life and freedom of one lass for another.”

His mother’s words shook him like a wind from the sea—hard and fast. The kindness and compassion his parents exuded, even after everything they had suffered, put James to shame. Their love extended far and wide, washing away the last remnants of his anger towards Taryn.

“I dinnae blame Taryn for running away any more than I do Laura for helping her, even though it has caused much chaos. The people who are truly at fault are the Baron, for his endless greed, the Laird for being so easily misled, and Taryn’s parents for being willing to trade their daughter for power.”

He had been mistaken. He had been so incredibly wrong. For years, he had seen Taryn as the sole party responsible for the mess the McGregor Clan was in. In his mind, she had thwarted her duty, and in turn, had impacted the livelihood of the entire clan. Not once had he stopped to think about what might have made her walk away from her responsibilities, from her family and friends, from the only home she had known. He hadn’t considered just how desperate she must have been to take such a risk and leave when she was so defenseless and vulnerable.

James had been so convinced that bringing Taryn back was the only solution that he hadn’t bothered to stop and talk to his parents about his plan first. Now that he had, he realized that Taryn was a victim just as much as the rest of them. The Baron had stolen her family, her freedom, and her life, just as he had from the rest of the clan.

“I—” James paused, his thoughts riotous and his voice cracking, “It has been a verra long few days. I need sleep. It will all make more sense in the morning.”

It was a dubious claim, and they all knew it.

“Sleep well, son,” his mother offered a sweet smile. “We will be here for ye when ye wake.”

James trudged off to bed, laden with guilt and worry, even more so now than he had been before. Despite the weariness that had long ago settled deep within his bones, despite the days he had spent without sleep as he brought Taryn back, he simply could not get his thoughts to quiet. James tossed and turned all through the night. Questions of the morality of his actions plagued him into the wee hours of the morning. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was another, better way to have gone about all of this.

Worst of all, every time he closed his eyes, James kept seeing Taryn’s face as she stood in front of the Laird, fear and resignation etched into every plane. The way her parents had addressed her, the way the Laird had treated her as less than a human had made his stomach turn. Yet, Taryn had not argued back, she had not tried to defend herself. True to her word, Taryn had never tried to run once she knew the full truth of the situation. She had surrendered herself willingly, even showing marked bravery against the bounty hunters, ensuring that James would be well enough to see her back to McGregor Castle. She had to have known everything that would await her upon her return, and she had gone anyway.

James had spent so long hating her, thinking that she was a weak, selfish woman. As the sun rose on a new day, as James considered the complexity of the situation at hand and her actions throughout it all, James realized it all pointed to a different truth.

One that meant he made a mistake large enough to ruin several lives.