19. Shadows of the South

19

SHADOWS OF THE SOUTH

“ I still dinnae see what we have to gain from a union such as this.”

Aila was nearly ready to pull her hair out as Finn dissented yet again. It seemed as though that was all he was here for. She couldn’t understand what a woman like Iona, lovely and welcoming and kind, saw in a man like him. But there was no missing the love that shone in her eyes for her husband, so Aila supposed Finn must have some redeeming qualities.

A glance at her own husband told her that he was just as frustrated with the way the conversation was going. They had all skipped breakfast in the Great Hall and opted to eat in the war room instead, diving straight into debating strategy.

“What do ye mean, ye dinnae see how it will benefit ye?” Lachlan asked incredulously. “How could it be anything but beneficial? Is it nae a wise strategy to always create more allies?”

“Nay,” Finn answered curtly. “Sometimes, more allies only means more battles to fight that are nae our own.”

“That is harsh,” Iona told him with a gentle touch to his forearm.

He looked momentarily apologetic before slipping right back into his role as Captain of the Guard.

“I ken it is harsh, but nae nearly so bad as having to tell a woman that her husband will nae be coming home. Or a bairn that their father is dead.”

He let out a heavy sigh, and Aila wondered if this deeply hidden compassion was what Iona loved about him.

“I only mean to say that the English have nae been a problem for us in many generations. And should they start to take more ground in the south, we will keep an eye on it. We will be prepared.”

“Ye would leave my people, my home, to act as a torch signal for ye? Wait until they are all burning before ye care to join the fight?”

The two men were both standing, poised over the long table, locked in a cold stare. From over their heads, Iona sent Aila a look as if to say, “Let them bicker, but we both know who has the final say.”

Content to let the men continue debating back and forth, Aila rose from the table and moved to look out of the window. As she went, Aila took notice of the details that made up the room. There was, of course, a large table sitting in the center of everything. The rectangular slab of wood had enough leather chairs stationed around it to host Iona’s entire council and several guests. Aila was grateful that there were only a handful of others in the room, rather than the full thirty it was made for. The walls were a rich green that spread from corner to corner and wall to ceiling. A map of the Highlands and all the jagged edges of Scotland hung on one wall, facing Iona’s seat. Beside it were two candle sconces that were already glowing despite the morning light pouring in from the windows.

Aila let her fingers dance over the red and green plaid curtains, made from the same fabric as the tartan all the McKenzie men were wearing. Part of her wondered if the Kincaid Castle would ever feel like this, like home.

“Ye dinnae understand,” Lachlan continued to rant behind her. “Baron Dudley is a man who will stop at nothing once he believes he has been wronged. He wiped out my entire clan because I helped a woman escape him. Do ye truly believe that ye can reason yer way out of a war with him?”

A sigh slipped through Aila’s mouth. Talk of war and death and that dreaded Englishman had overtaken her honeymoon. She longed for the days when she was free from such pressure.

Beyond the cold window panes, Arran jumped around in the snow with Iona and Finn’s son and daughter—Rory and Alexandra. They were in the midst of a snowball fight, with walls of snow acting as their defense. Despite the uneven numbers, Arran was holding his own well enough. Every time one of the children would hit their mark and snow exploded into the air, all three burst into laughter. Aila wanted nothing more than to run around outside with them, pretending war was just that—pretend.

“The simple matter is the Englishman does nae pose a direct threat to us. But if we get involved, then he certainly will.”

It had been hours of this; each man going round and round trying to convince the other they were right. Aila’s head spun. The advisors had all but agreed with Finn that the Baron didn’t pose a danger to them. No one wanted to go to battle, to put their men at risk. It was as though they couldn’t see that they were already in danger.

The Baron had wiped out an entire clan in one day and from the rumors of what was happening in the McGregor Clan, he had nearly taken control of that land too. It was only a matter of time before he had overtaken all the Highlands. And with an English army to back his greed, the only way the clans were going to survive was if they joined forces. Aila was at a complete loss at how to make their hosts see that.

Lachlan was clearly at a loss as well, his voice rising with every argument he threw their way.

“It will be a much harder battle to win if ye wait until ye have nay allies left to call on. And that is assuredly the direction we are headed. What will ye do then?”

Finn crossed his arms over his shoulders, not budging. Iona remained quiet and pensive. Aila wanted to appeal to her directly, to speak from one woman to another, but in this room, she was so much more than just a woman. She was a Laird, considering what was best for her people. That was a weight that Aila didn’t know very well. One that she was only just now becoming familiar with. And the McKenzie Clan was so much larger than the Kincaid Clan. There were so many more lives to consider, so many more families who risked breaking should a war truly break out.

“How can ye ken that war is where things are headed? As far as I can see, the Baron only has issues with ye and those who have broken their word against him. We have nay qualms with the man.”

“I ken because a man like this does nae stop at a reasonable place. If he did, my clan would still be alive. If he was the kind of man to be content with getting even, he would nae have slaughtered the Kincaid women and children in their own beds. But that is exactly what he did. He was nae pleased until my entire clan was burned, the few of us left scattered to the wind or imprisoned. And now that I have escaped, he is hunting for me again as if I were nay more than a wild bear he wants to skin and put on his floor.”

Aila winced. She turned her back on the war table discussions once more and looked out of the window. Sitting on the cushion on the ledge, she pressed her cheek against the cold, frosty glass. It gave her some relief from picturing her new husband as a throw in an English castle.

Laughter drifted towards her, the children giggling at a new game they had agreed on. It reminded her that they had something worth fighting for. People worth protecting, futures that they were trying to guarantee. That was why they were here.

Pushing away from her spot, Aila strode to Iona’s chair, no longer caring if she was breaking tradition or some rules of etiquette that she shouldn’t be. There wasn’t time to spare for politeness. Not when there were so many lives at stake. Especially the lives of those she loved. Lachlan continued his shouting match with Finn and the other advisors, while Aila’s movements went unnoticed.

“Why do ye sit here and say nothing?” Aila asked the Laird. “I can see ye thinking. I ken that ye are listening to everything my husband is saying. I can tell that ye see the truth and the wisdom in what he is asking. But ye say nothing. I dinnae understand.”

“Walk with me for a moment.”

Iona rose from the table and walked towards the bookshelves that sat at the back of the room. Aila went with her, grateful to once again put space between her and the arguments happening at the table.

Scanning the rows and rows of books, Iona’s fingers danced across the gilded letters embossed on the spines, leaving Aila to wonder just what the Laird would do or say next. She pulled out a thick tome that had “McKenzie History” etched on the front cover.

“When I was a young lass, my tutor made me read this entire thing every year from the time I was six until I assumed my role as Laird,” Iona explained. “I hadn’t understood it then. In fact, more often than not, I gave him much grief about the assignment. But now, when I sit in these rooms, I think about what my ancestors might have done in my position. I think about the way their legacies are written and what I wish for people to say about me when I am gone.”

“Surely, they will describe ye as merciful and generous for coming to the aid of those who need it when they call.”

Iona flipped through the pages before reshelving the book. She turned to face Aila head on, a grave expression on her face.

“Only if we are victorious. Only if getting involved does nae cost my clan everything. Can ye promise me that? Can ye assure me that if I engage my armies, those men will return home to their families?”

Aila stood silently.

“I cannae tell ye how much I understand yer plight. It was nae so long ago that I forget what it is like to have outside forces threatening yer home, destroying yer family. We fought hard to regain our freedom. I cannae jeopardize that so quickly.”

“What if there was another way besides war?” Aila tried. “Some way to help save our families, our people, without putting yer own at risk.”

Iona arched an eyebrow as she thought about it. A moment later, a smile broke out across her face. Grabbing Aila’s shoulder, she ushered them both back to the table and put up a hand, getting the attention of her council.

“Gentlemen,” she called, silencing their arguments. “I want ye all to hear what Aila has just proposed to me.”

All eyes shifted to her, and Aila discovered then that she would much rather be on the battlefield with sword in hand than stand before a group to speak. She swallowed hard, unable to shake feeling exposed without Lachlan next to her. Iona gave her a gentle nudge forward, a silent encouragement to speak.

“Well,” she swallowed again. “I only asked Laird Iona if there was a way we could work together to find a solution that would put an end to the Baron’s threats without starting a war. That way, the McKenzie soldiers are nae in any danger, but our clans gain protection.”

Lachlan gave her a proud smile and a nod, pleased with her contribution, but the rest of the table sported skeptical looks. Finn sat with a huff, his arms still crossed, already shaking his head.

“An excellent idea, I think,” Iona added quickly. “Any ideas, lads?”

“We could put up the money for Lachlan to fund an army of his own. Send arms and men to help train the new recruits.”

Aila’s heart soared at the suggestion one of the elders posed. It finally felt like they were getting somewhere.

“So instead of asking our men to risk their lives, ye are simply going to drain their coffers to fund someone else’s battle?” Finn questioned, not really expecting an answer.

“That is the point ye are nae getting,” Lachlan told him, rubbing his temples. “This is nae just ‘someone else’s battle.’ If we dinnae put a stop to the Baron’s influence now, it will grow until he is too powerful to stop. When his forces reach yer borders, and I ken for a fact that they will, it will become yer battle. Only, there will nae be anyone left to come to yer aid because ye would nae come to ours.”

“How do ye ken this? How can ye swear it, be so absolutely sure that the Baron is coming for us?”

“Because I heard his men talking about it while I was in his prison!”

Lachlan’s admission bounced off the stone walls, silencing all other arguments.

“Because for three arduous years, I heard of all the ways his men had been trained and prepared for a war that will stretch across the Highlands. Because they taunted us everyday, telling us that what they did to my clan was only the beginning. They wanted us to sit there and ken that they were coming after our friends and family, and we had nay way to stop it.”

Aila was just as shocked as the rest of the room. Lachlan had so rarely spoken of his time in those cells. She hadn’t expected him to say anything in front of several strangers, let alone something he hadn’t revealed even to her.

“That is why I can promise ye the future. But his men swore it to me. That is why my men sacrificed their lives, starting a fight they kent they would die in, so I could escape, so I could do everything I could to stop Baron Dudley before it was too late. That is why I am here, having dragged my family through the blasted winter winds to come beg for help from strangers, my own pride be damned. Because I ken that if I dinnae, the Highlands will never be the same.”

No one said a word, even Finn stayed mute, as Lachlan’s words settled around them.

“Well,” Iona said, softly breaking the silence.

Before she could finish, a polite knock came from the door, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Lachlan huffed and pushed away from the table, moving to the window that Aila had peered out of only moments before. She watched his back heave up and down as he fought to regain control of himself once more. Unable to sit idly by, she moved to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, providing what little comfort she could.

The door squeaked open at Iona’s bidding, revealing a commotion sitting on the other side.

“I told ye, ye cannae go in there! The Laird is verra busy with?—”

Aila and Lachlan turned in unison to see what had caused the ruckus. In the doorway, ignoring the tugging of the housekeeper, stood a man Aila had never seen before, clutching the shoulder of?—

“Christopher!” Lachlan shouted, lurching towards the pair.

Guards tumbled in from the hallway, flanking the man. Christopher jumped out of their reach and dashed towards Lachlan, tucking himself into Lachlan’s open embrace. Aila pushed her way through the crowd, pulling the boy into her arms, squeezing him tight.

“What are ye doing here? How did ye get here?” she asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes, checking his body for any signs of harm.

“I take it ye ken these two?” Iona asked.

Everyone in the room was tense, poised to strike if anyone made one wrong move. Lachlan shook his head, his eyes never leaving the man in the doorway. Guards now gripped his arms, but he stayed firm, sheer relief rolling off him in waves. Aila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“The lad is one of ours, though how he managed to get here on his own, I dinnae ken. The man,” Lachlan answered, eyes narrowing, “is a stranger.”

Everyone turned to the dark-haired man then, waiting for an explanation of some kind.

“Are ye Lachlan Kincaid?”

“Aye,” Lachlan said, his chin thrusting into the air.

“That must mean ye are Aila.”

She held Christopher tighter, concerned as to just who this man was and what he wanted with them.

“How do ye ken who we are when we haven’t the faintest idea as to yer name?” she challenged.

He left out a huff of air, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I cannae tell ye how relieved I am. I have traveled a long way in the hopes of finding ye. Ye have to help me.”

“Help ye do what? I still dinnae ken who ye are,” Aila told him, more than a little perplexed.

“Ye have to help me save Taryn’s life.”