Chapter Twenty

"There is a tradition that should the MacLeods be in peril in battle they can unfurl the Fairy Flag and they will then be invincible. But the magic will only work three times, and it has been used twice in the past."

Historic-uk.com

The Fairy Flag was the most powerful weapon on Skye, perhaps in all of Scotland. For generations, the kings of Scotland had demanded it from the Macleods of Skye, but it had never left their clan. 'Twas said that the ancient cloth could be unfurled and flown over battles to ensure victory, but only three times before the magic was depleted. It had been used twice before to save the MacLeods. Afterward, it was secreted away to some safe place under guard at Dunvegan Castle.

"I did not take the Fairy Flag anywhere," Sara said, each word succinct.

Morag sniffed indignantly. "That blaigeard, Jamie MacLeod, sent his men to tear my place apart."

"And they didn't find it?" Rory asked, glancing at Sara.

By the devil! He thought she'd stolen it. Sara shot him a frown, her ire instantly flaring high within her. "I didn't take it from Dunvegan. I haven't even seen…" She pursed her lips, stopping the easy lie. "I saw it under Eleri's bed in a box when I was hunting for her paints."

"Is it my fault 'tis gone?" Eleri asked, sitting on the edge of a righted chair.

"Nay," Rory said. "Ye keep yer door locked. And ye haven't told anyone about it?"

Eleri shook her head, giving Sara a worried glance.

"Brodrick said ye didn't return last night to Dunvegan." Jok's red brows rose as he looked between Sara and Rory.

"The storm made Lady Sara's horse bolt," Rory said. "We had to take refuge at Dun Beag Broch."

"With a phoenix and frightened horses fouling the floor," Sara added. Sara looked at Rory, as if silently nudging him to lie about their sleeping arrangements, but he said nothing.

"A real phoenix?" Eleri asked, clutching her hands together, her eyes wide. "Was it burning up to be reborn from the ashes?"

"Phoenixes are myth," Jok said, a pinch in his brow.

"'Twas a gray heron that happened to look red in the light from a lantern," Rory said, pushing his fist against the pain that had started in his forehead.

Jok looked back at Sara. "Is the Fairy Flag at Dun Beag Broch?"

"I haven't seen it outside Eleri's room," Sara replied with a glare.

She sat down in another righted chair next to Eleri, pulling her long hair to one side.

"You're hurt," Morag said, coming up to her swiftly, her fingers going to Sara's neck.

Holy Sweet Mother Mary! Had Rory left a bite mark on her neck? "'Tis nothing," Sara said, trying to pull her hair back across it.

"A bruise of some sort," Morag said, and Sara could hear the question in her voice. But she spun around. "I have a poultice for that," Morag said, leaving her to find it across the upended room.

"A bruise?" Jok said. "On her neck?" His words held accusation, and Sara saw him looking at Rory.

A small hand slid over Sara's on the table, and Sara looked up to meet Eleri's concerned eyes. The trust and sympathy Sara saw there made her own eyes tear, and she blinked to clear the watery sight.

"It will be found," Eleri said. "Don't worry."

"Brodrick is out looking for us?" Rory asked from near the door. His hand clasped the back of his skull. "And he knows we weren't here last night?"

"We should go back to Dunvegan," Jok said.

"If Jamie MacLeod thinks Sara stole his Fairy Flag," Morag pointed a finger at her, "he will throw her in the pit."

"The pit with the icy water in the bottom?" Sara asked but everyone talked over her.

"If she stays here," Rory countered, "his warriors will find her."

"Are they not loyal to you?" Morag asked, her brow raised.

"I've trained them, but they spoke oaths to my father and Jamie."

"I could run," Sara said, not liking to be spoken of as if she weren't in the room and responsible for her own actions. "But then I'll look like a thief." She stood, crossing her arms, and paced the littered floor. "I'll go back to Dunvegan and tell the truth that I don't have this lost flag."

"Stolen," Jok said, tipping his head. "Not lost. 'Twas locked in a box under Lady Eleri's bed. The box is gone."

Sara threw her hands wide. "Where on me do I have a box or a flag?" She dropped her arms and flipped up the hem of her skirt to show her under-petticoat. "Nowhere. And Rory, you can give proof you haven't seen me with either."

Rory's gaze slid to her, and what she saw hit her like a thunderbolt. Suspicion. He wasn't sure. Did he think she'd seduced him last night to distract him from her true purpose? Her breaths were shallow, her cheeks growing red, as if she were guilty.

"Aye," he said, but then exhaled with a voice tinged with defeat. "If Jamie is in his right mind, he'll believe me."

Morag snorted. "He's never been in his right mind."

…

"And then Mistress Morag told me to hang from a bar that she hooked across two of her rafters," Eleri said. They rode back through the woods on MacLeod land that led to the burned church and on to Dunvegan. "It felt good, pulling my back straight." Eleri shrugged. "I mean, I know it didn't straighten it, but it felt less curved. After that, she showed me how to tighten the muscles around my spine. She says if I do the exercises every day, the pain will lessen, and my spine might straighten some."

His sister, or half sister as he now knew, was more excited than he'd ever seen her. "I didn't know ye live in pain, El," Rory said.

She sat on her horse, who walked even with Airgid. "'Tis a constant ache, sometimes worse. I try not to think about it." Her voice got small. "And I don't want people to see it."

He knew she'd been made to feel lesser because of it. Even though his father had been kinder than most to Eleri, he hadn't taken her to festivals or introduced her to visitors. Now that he was dead, Jamie encouraged their sister to stay in her tower. Winnie Mar had told Jamie he should send her to a nunnery, that Eleri was a burden he should cast away. Could Sara have suffered a similar discouragement?

"Good people see yer beautiful smile and eyes, Eleri," he said. "Yer wit and cleverness, yer talent for capturing the world with your paints. The people who pass over those things and only see your back are not worth knowing."

He heard her sniff, but she didn't rub an eye or turn around. "Thank you, Ror," she said, using his old nickname.

Sara rode Lily next to them on the path, Jok bringing up the rear. The white mare's ears perked and turned as if sensing danger. She was still agitated from last night's storm. Airgid kept his head up and alert as usual, but Rory was also tense as if his warrior instincts had been triggered. Were Brodrick and his men close? He'd hoped to reach Dunvegan before their group so it wouldn't look like they'd been forced by them to return.

"I think Lady Sara is a good person," Eleri said, her sweet face looking past him to where Sara rode on his other side.

Rory glanced at Sara. Had she heard Eleri's assessment? The regal woman stared straight ahead over her horse's ears, but a softening in her lips made him think she had.

"I believe ye're right," Rory replied, and Sara's gaze shifted to his, connecting for a moment. It was a brief joining, but he thought he saw relief. His chest tightened as he looked forward. Did he really believe it? She was a Macdonald woman whom he'd obviously lost all control over, and now the Fairy Flag was gone. 'Twas like he'd jumped back in time to ten years ago. Jamie would surely see the similarities if he knew what had happened between them at the tower. Rory's brother wouldn't hold back from raking him through fire with his condemnation and rage.

The horses clopped along the pebbled, hard-packed road under a cloud-heavy sky. The morning had broken with sun, but it seemed another storm was moving in. The stillness felt heavy with only an intermittent breeze to push through the trees flanking the path. Breaking from the woods, they rode in silence past the blackened chapel. Rebuilding wouldn't begin until the anger had smoothed into acceptance, which, if nudged, could build into hope for a peaceful future.

That was Rory's goal on Skye—peace. And a strong Scotland.

Over the rise of the hill, Rory caught sight of Jamie on the bank before Dunvegan's curtain wall. MacLeod warriors filled the streets before him, swords at their sides, and some villagers held crude weapons as if they might be heading to war.

"Daingead," Rory swore beneath his breath.

"Mother Mary," Sara said beside him while Jok followed up with a more colorful curse involving an otter's odiferous ballocks.

Jamie held his fist in the air, making Rory wonder if he were still too weak to lift his sword. "Right now, that bastard Macdonald," Jamie called, "who burned our church and almost yer chief, might have our most powerful weapon, the Fairy Flag." The deep rumble of discontent followed this speculation. "As we saw in my father's time when he unfurled it when we were outnumbered in battle, the flag will bring victory despite the odds."

Jamie's gaze landed on them, and he threw an arm out toward Sara. "Stolen by my traitorous bride."

Everyone turned to look at their small party riding up on the scene. Glares and curses flew through the air. In a swift movement, Rory dismounted and lowered Eleri to the ground. "Find safety, El," he said and moved in front of Sara.

"Lady Sara does not have the Fairy Flag," Rory called back, his voice reaching over all the protest. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the men he'd trained, good men who'd only had Jamie to listen to for a year and a half. Had he poisoned their minds with his suspicions and hatred?

"She's already given it to her devil of a father," Jamie retorted, making the rumble swell again.

"She never had the flag nor the box containing it," Rory said, ignoring the niggling worry that he had no way of knowing if this was true.

"'Twas held safe under our sister's bed in the tower room," Jamie said, "and now 'tis gone. The only person visiting our sister was Lady Seraphina Macdonald, spy and enemy to our clan."

Jok came up next to Rory as Sara dismounted. Both men stood before her like shields in case Jamie ordered someone to shoot an arrow. Jamie had whipped the MacLeods before them into a frenzy.

"We've been visiting Morag Gunn of the glen," Rory said, his tone stern but even. "Anyone could have entered Eleri's room and stolen the box."

Jamie snorted. "The only traitor we have within our clan is she." He stabbed a finger in the air toward Sara.

"I have taken no flag nor box," she called out, her voice strong and unwavering. "My aunt's cottage was searched with cruel, destructive force, even while your own sister was in residence."

Rory couldn't see Sara's face, but he imagined the tip of her chin and the flashing of fury in her blue eyes. Her lips, so soft and kissable before, were probably pinched in tight anger that she tried to hold back. Her tone was hot with unleashed wrath for slandering her name and morals.

Sara held her arms out wide. "Search me. Search my room." She dropped her arms. "Your accusations are to throw blame off someone within your own ranks." She pointed a finger along the rows of men and even the women who stood staring at her audacity.

Most of the village had come out to Jamie's rallying cry. Margaret and her husband weren't present, but Reid Hodges was there, standing to the side, shuffling his feet, worry etched deeply into his pale face.

"Throw her in the pit until she admits her crimes!" Winnie yelled, her waspish tongue confident.

"Nay." The word snapped out of Rory almost like a growl, and he let his lips curl back in disgust. "The chief of the MacLeods will not be ruled by his mistress, and a mistress who's been evicted, too."

"Go fok your horse, Rory MacLeod," Winnie called back. "Or go back to England where your loyalty has been bought. Perhaps you stole the flag to send to King Henry!"

'Twas a worry of the Scottish nobles that those kept in England would be swayed to Henry's side of whatever the current conflict was between their countries. Since the beginning of time, rulers had tried to control the entire isle, south and north, east and west: England wanting autocratic rule of Scotland and Scotland doing whatever it could to keep the greedy monarchs out of its territories while fighting amongst themselves to rule.

Rory's men knew he hated the bloody king of England more than most since being starved and left to rot in Carlisle dungeon, but a few others stared with questioning accusation in their eyes. Rory ignored Winnie. "We will enter Dunvegan." He motioned to the ferryman. "Join the discussion inside, brother."

"Why?" Winnie said. "So you can persuade your chief that the serpent in our midst is only a sweet apple? One would think you'd have learned your lesson about Macdonald spies years ago."

He narrowed his eyes at her. She knew about Madeline's treason? Even if she hadn't been there, most of the onlookers had, and someone must have told her.

Sara's voice rang out with authority. "To discuss the whereabouts of the missing flag with those wise enough to understand the issues instead of throwing wild accusations about to incite unrest and panic." She stared directly at Winnie. Without waiting for any reply, she led her horse to the ferry, where she spoke to two eager children whom Reid had beckoned over to take care of Lily.

Jamie stood on the table that had been left before the bank where the wedding feast would have taken place. His face was red and contorted, but he climbed down and strode to the ferry. Sara had boarded the flat barge and stood, looking out the front, chin tipped higher with dignity. It made her perfect neck look long like that of a swan. And then Rory saw a different neck—long and pale and sliced across, blood dripping from it. He inhaled slowly, slamming a lid down on the memory.

Jok, Reid, Jamie, Rory, Eleri, and Sara moved across the water in silence. At the small dock, the two elderly men stood waiting.

"Ye didn't send the barge back across," Simon said, glaring with his one good eye.

John waved his stump of an arm in the air. "Did ye think I was going to swim across to ye?"

"Keep close to the Macdonald woman," Jamie said to the two guards standing on the dock.

Sara snatched up her petticoats. "I have no intention of swimming away."

"But ye might set the tapestries ablaze, Flame of Dunscaith," Jamie said and reached for a soft curl of red hair stretching down her back, rubbing it as if testing its softness.

Rory's fists clenched into murderous weapons at his sides, but then Jamie released the curl, and Sara hopped over the narrow gap off the barge. She climbed evenly up the steep steps into Dunvegan's entry, Simon and John trailing her while they whispered together, stopping now and then to rest.

Simon turned his head to Rory as they entered the castle. "Did he tell ye the Fairy Flag is gone?"

"Aye."

"Right out from under yer sister's bed," John said. They all walked into the great hall, boots clicking on the stone floor.

"Did everyone know the flag was there?" Jok asked.

John shrugged. "Now they do."

"Such an uproar, like none since that other Macdonald woman stole the flag." Simon nodded, fixing his one good eye on Rory. "Ye remember that, don't ye, lad?"

What an idiotic question. How could he forget the frenzy of fury grabbing hold of the villagers as his father held Madeline before them, describing how she'd betrayed them as a spy for Walter Macdonald?

"We had to turn everything upside down in the castle then, too," John added and sat down on a bench pulled back from the table. "Winnie Mar was screeching about Lady Sara, and Jamie was—"

"Enough," Jamie said. "Ye two never hold yer tongues."

Jamie was an arse, but he'd never disrespected their mother's cousins before. The two men looked at one another with grim expressions and stared at him in silence.

Margaret walked into the hall from the kitchen corridor and opened her arms to Eleri. Eleri hurried over, letting the only mother she'd known comfort her from the confrontation beyond the castle walls. Margaret tried to lead Eleri away, but she shook her head. "I would be here to support Lady Sara."

"Bloody hell," Jamie yelled, making Eleri jump.

Eleri drew herself up, but Rory could see her breathing quickly. "Lady Sara had no flag nor box on her when we left Dunvegan yesterday."

Jamie narrowed his eyes at her enough that Margaret took a step before her charge, her lips pinched.

"Has the village been searched?" Rory asked.

Jamie stood with his hands propped on his hips in agitation. "Brodrick led a search yesterday."

"A search of the outlying farmsteads is underway," one of the guards, Barnaby, said. "Although if the flag was taken days ago, it could already be in enemy hands."

"Foking hell!" Jamie's curse cut through the tension in the great hall like a honed blade through sinew. "I need the Fairy Flag back! I need it to conquer the bloody Macdonald Clan once and for all!" His words snapped out with some spittle, but he didn't seem to notice or care.

"The lad's bloody loud," John said, and Simon nodded, sniffing.

Jamie pointed to Sara. "I will wed ye and conquer your clan. Dunscaith and its Flame will be mine."

"Nay," Rory said at the same time Sara spoke.

"I won't marry you, Chief MacLeod, and Dunscaith, under the leadership of my older brother, will never fall." Her words were calm as if she stood with a battalion of support surrounding her. But the opposite was true. She was alone except for Eleri who stubbornly refused to be led safely above.

Jamie strode toward her, and Rory leaped forward, lips pulled back in a silent snarl. He wouldn't let Jamie, or anyone, harm the brave woman standing without so much as a shield to protect her from violence. Ten years ago, he'd just become a man at eighteen years old when Madeline was condemned, but now he was a seasoned warrior, the Lion of Skye.

Jamie's bent fingers rose to grab Sara by the neck like a pair of talons, but Rory shoved his arms away, placing his larger body between them. Jamie faltered slightly, even under the reined-in force that Rory had used. "Ye will not touch the lady," Rory said, staring into Jamie's glare.

"Ye protect her, a Macdonald, daughter of our enemy who tried to murder us on my wedding day? A Macdonald spy?" He shook his head. "Did ye learn nothing before? Women, especially Macdonald women, cannot be trusted."

"And yet ye were going to marry her," Rory said.

The side of Jamie's mouth pulled upward in a wry grin. "To keep my enemy close, I could send false information to her father."

"A failed plan," Sara said, "since I tell my father nothing."

As if he'd been waiting for a line spoken in a play to herald his entrance, Brodrick strode through the archway from the stairs leading up from the ferry. His steps were clipped and forceful. Jamie whirled around, spotting a folded fabric in his hands.

"Ye found it!" Jamie yelled. "The Fairy Flag."

"Where was it?" Simon asked.

But Rory knew instantly that it wasn't the fabled flag held sacred by his clan, and all of Skye. For one thing, it wasn't yellow.

John shook his gray head. "That flag is white. A flag of surrender?"

"Is Walter Macdonald surrendering?" Simon asked, but everyone ignored the ridiculous question.

"'Tis not the Fairy Flag, my chief," Brodrick said, his gaze flickering to Rory and beyond to Sara before returning to Jamie. His face pinched with condemnation, but then he bowed his head to Jamie. "'Tis a bed sheet I found at Dun Beag Broch."

Rory's hands fisted at his sides. Bloody foking hell.

Jamie's brows gathered. "The tower house that Rory's determined to outfit as his own little castle?"

"Aye," Brodrick said, holding the folded rectangle from two points so that it dropped down as if he were unfurling a real flag. "I believe 'tis where the Lion of Skye and the Flame of Dunscaith took refuge in the storm last night. Alone. This was in the bedchamber."

Across the bleached white of the sheet were smears of bright red blood.