Chapter Thirty-Two

"She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire."

Charles Bukowski, 1920-1994, German-American poet

Morag met his gaze without blinking, the wrinkles deep in her forehead. "Alasdair didn't slash that poor girl's throat because of you, because you gave away secrets or told her where to find the flag. She would have died even if you'd never become involved with her."

Rory clenched his fists, trying not to slip back into the horror of that day when he was barely a man. "Father held her before everyone and said I was the reason she was dying."

Morag shook her head. "Well, he couldn't tell everyone the truth, now could he?"

"What truth?" Rory asked, his breathing shallow.

"That Madeline had found out the secret of he and Elspet, my sister." She flipped her hand. "Yes, Madeline was a spy for the Macdonald Clan, and she probably fell in love with the handsome young second son of Chief MacLeod. But what sealed her fate was when she sent word to Walter Macdonald that his wife was having relations with his enemy and had born him twin girls, Eliza and Eleri."

Rory watched her, his brows furrowed. "But she stole the flag."

Morag shrugged. "It never left Dunvegan, did it?"

"She seduced Jamie to get it."

Morag tilted her head again. "Who told you that? Jamie? Alasdair?" She shook her head. "No. Madeline was killed because Alasdair went insane with fear and fury that Elspet and one of his daughters, trapped at Dunscaith, would be killed by Walter. And he took that fear out on Madeline's throat, blaming you because he couldn't reveal his secrets." Morag flapped her hand again. "And then that fool brother of yours made you swear that vow, which you did, I suppose, because you were in shock over watching that poor girl bleed to death in front of you."

She shook her head and huffed. "Walter ended up torturing my sister and locking Eliza up. Alasdair, having deprived himself of the woman responsible, took out his continued worry and anger on you, Rory." She stepped up to him, poking him with her words. "But you did not endanger your clan by loving a Macdonald. Your. Father. Did."

He didn't say anything as his churning mind made sense of what the crone had revealed. All these years he'd felt he was to blame, as if he was the one who'd made the slash across Madeline's throat. And he'd been punished over and over for it until any confidence he'd had as a lad was shredded, and the shame had followed him into manhood.

The woman sat down at her table as if she'd suddenly grown weary. "I thought you'd learned something during your stay in England, Rory MacLeod."

"I learned that life is unfair and cruel." He ran his hands over his head, pressing against the ache throbbing there.

Morag folded her hands before her on the table. "You learned to look beyond the prejudices you were raised under," she said. "You looked at each of those men unfairly held with you, Kenan Macdonald, Cyrus MacKinnon, and Asher MacNicol, and realized they were not the enemy you'd been told they were. They are warriors and sons and brothers, Scotsmen like you. And yet now"—she swooped an arm out—"you fall back on the easy distrust of a Macdonald."

"There was evidence," he said but then thought of the mushroom he'd found in Winnie's fire.

"Was it evidence or misleading deception?" she countered with a grin. "Like Jamie telling you Madeline seduced him to get the flag."

She stared hard at him, her eyes narrowing. "Trust what you feel is the truth. Read Sara's heart and her actions you've seen yourself. Go against the prejudices you've been raised to believe. We're asked to put our faith in God even though we have little proof. 'Tis time you put your faith in someone your heart tells you is true."

…

Reid had the Fairy Flag all along. Reid Hodges? Why? How?

Walter touched the flag in the box with reverence while Reid held up the wooden case. Her father looked at Reid. "Ye've done well, man."

"Lady Seraphina brought it," Reid said. "I merely carried it for her."

Sara stared at the man she realized she didn't know at all. "I…" She didn't know what to say. Kenan was staring at her with such a hard look that she gave him a small shake of her head.

Walter laughed, a deep belly laugh, and grabbed Sara into his arms, hugging her. Her head tipped back with the squeezing force of it. He smelled of sweat and smoke. "That's my lass!" He held her shoulders and shook her, grinning. "Made the second son fall in love with ye, killed his brother, and stole the Fairy Flag right out from under him."

"She didn't kill Jamie MacLeod. I did."

The familiar voice made Sara's gaze snap past her father's weathered face. She stepped back from him, her breath halting.

"He didn't eat enough of the mushrooms to make him die quickly, so I had to smother him, too," Winnie Mar said and smiled. "But everyone at Dunvegan thinks Sara was behind it all." She snorted through her pert nose. "As if you'd have the courage to do such things."

"Winnie Mar?" Sara said, her hands fisted at her sides. "You killed your lover?"

Winnie's smile turned into a feral grimace as she glanced beside her at Gilbert. "I never loved Jamie MacLeod. I killed the chief of our enemy. I did my duty to infiltrate Dunvegan and wreak havoc." She slid her arm through Gilbert's. "I will always be loyal to the Macdonald Clan."

Winnie nodded to Reid. "Me and my brother that is. My last name is Hodges, not Mar."

Sara turned back to Reid, eyes wide. He still held the wooden box as Walter closed the lid. "I will take it inside, milord," Reid said, "to yer library."

"Reid?" Sara said, but he wouldn't meet her eyes as he strode past and into the keep.

Kenan took her arm. "I'll take ye inside," he said.

Walter smiled broadly. "I'd thought to put ye in the dungeon or stocks, but Seraphina, the Flame of Dunscaith, is loyal." He laughed. "And we will be victorious over those bloody MacLeods now that we have the flag. Once and for all." He swung his arms up into the air as if he were drunk on glory. Whether or not the Fairy Flag truly held the power to bring victory, it had bolstered him and would do the same for the Macdonald warriors waiting to march north.

"When do they march on Dunvegan?" Sara asked Kenan as they walked through the great hall that had been her home and then her Hell over the last years since their mother had died.

"He says in a few days' time, but now that he has the flag…it could be on the morrow. He wants to test the catapult first." They climbed the steps to the next level where the family bedchambers were and walked down to the room she had shared with Eliza.

"Is there any way to sabotage it?" she asked. "To give us more time."

"Time for what?" Kenan asked. "With that flag, he will go to war. There's no stopping him now."

Sara tugged his arm, glancing down the empty hall. "Kenan…I didn't know about Reid carrying the flag here. I came here to steal the flag back."

He stared at her, his frown unchanging. "Ye'd be locked in the dungeon if ye'd ridden in here with nothing to offer. Winnie had already arrived to say she'd killed Jamie." He looked away and rubbed his jaw. "Which I'm glad to hear ye did not do. Killing changes a person."

"How long have Reid and Winnie been spies at Dunvegan?"

"Reid about three years, Winnie a bit over a year." He looked annoyed. "I, of course, was kept in the dark about such things."

"I didn't recognize them."

"Ye wouldn't. They lived with the Mackinnons for years. When Father sent word for them to return, he kept them hidden in case any MacLeod spies were here at Dunscaith."

"How do you know this?"

"Winnie threw it in my face when she arrived like a triumphant queen." Kenan shook his head. "Father sees me as a traitor. I'd probably be locked in the dungeon if he thought the Macdonald army would follow him." He allowed a confident grin. "But they follow me. I'm the one who trained them, who works with them every day. And I'll be the next chief despite Father wanting to put Gilbert in charge."

"You're the better chief," she said. "'Tis a wonder Winnie has latched onto Gilbert and not you."

"Oh, she's tried, but I wouldn't do that to Gilbert, no matter what an arse he is." He made a pinched face. "And she's rather cloying, and"—his brows rose with a tinge of wry humor—"she's just killed her lover."

"You're wise," she said, patting his arm. Even with the Hell storm whirling around her, Kenan could always tease a smile out of her.

He opened the door, and she inhaled the familiar scent of her room. Beeswax and flowers. The beds sat on opposite walls with a woven rug in between before a swept hearth. Just as it had always been. It made her miss Eliza. "I hope Eliza is safer at Dunvegan than here." Sara walked inside. "When I left, she was."

Her middle felt hollow again now that the anxiety of arriving had burned away. "If you march on Dunvegan," Sara said, looking at Kenan, "get Eliza and Eleri to Aunt Morag's."

"I will," he said. "The crafty woman will get them away to safety somehow while her crows attack any foes."

"Margaret and Theodore Harris are also helpful and loyal to the twins." Sara rubbed her hands down her face. Sweet Mother Mary, must it come to war?

Kenan stopped before her, taking her hands away to hold in his. "And Rory? What has happened? Aunt Morag thought ye two…"

He trailed off as tears welled unbidden in her eyes. "I thought…I thought we might be…" She shook her head. "But he sent me away."

"Why?"

"He thinks I killed Jamie and stole the flag."

"We need to tell him about Winnie and Reid," Kenan said, his jaw set in a hard line.

"He didn't even say goodbye to me the morning I left. Only sent some coins to help me flee." There could be no love there.

"I'll make him see the truth."

A flutter of hope rose in her stomach, but sorrow weighed it down like a butterfly caught in a net. She shook her head. "I told him I hadn't done those things, but he doesn't believe me. Without trust, there's nothing but ashes between us."

She let Kenan pull her into a gentle hug, like when they were children and Gilbert had done something cruel. "I'm so sorry, Sara."

"I wish…I wish I could fly away somewhere and start anew." She looked up at him, squeezing her eyes to rid them of tears. "Like a phoenix."

Kenan's face softened, letting up on his hold. "Ye've been reading the myths?"

"I don't have the books."

Kenan stepped over to the hearth to start a fire to ward off the chill from the coming night. "I have several in my chamber. The myth of Icarus flying too close to the sun."

"The one where his wings, held together by wax, melt?" she asked, watching him strike flint, sparking a bit of wool between his fingers.

He blew gently on the ignited bundle before adding it to the straw kindling and dry peat he'd stacked on the grate to allow more air to feed it. "Aye. When I was imprisoned in England, I would dream of flying away. I drew plans for making lightweight wings out of thin hides when I returned to Dunscaith."

Her mouth dropped open. "You've made wings?"

A grin broke across his serious lips. "Aye, and they are sewn together, not glued with wax. I used Leonardo da Vinci's plans, but modified them to glide, not flap. Men aren't strong enough to flap."

"Have you tried them? Do they work?"

"They're finished, but I've yet to try them." Kenan pointed a finger upward. "I have them hidden on the roof, so Father and Gilbert don't find them. They'd laugh and destroy them."

"Or figure out how to make them into a weapon."

His smile fell into a hard look of dislike. Their family could not be more divided. Gilbert and Father against Kenan, Eliza, and Sara. And a home divided was weak, just like a country, just like a clan.

Sara felt heat burn up her neck like a wildfire out of control. Rory knew that. And she was dividing his clan, those who felt she was innocent and those who believed she was the enemy in their midst, poisoning their chief and stealing their flag. Even without proof, their beliefs condemned her. And Rory was now the chief and responsible for keeping his clan strong and united as the threat of war increased.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Even if he believed her, it wasn't enough.

"I'll come for ye for supper," Kenan said, standing out of his crouch. He walked over to her and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "I will have words with Rory." Despite the tender touch, his words ground out like stone caught in a mill.

"Don't."

"I won't kill him." Kenan's face was tight. "But anyone who hurts my sister will hurt." He kissed her forehead and left.

Sara sat in a chair before the fire. "House divided," she said. "A clan divided is weak." How about a heart? If a heart was divided, would it die? Hers was shattered into splinters. She leaned forward, holding her face in her hands, her eyes shut.

Rap. Rap.

The brief knocks were soft. Sara lifted her head.

Rap. Rap. Rap.

Sara rose and walked to the door, opening it a crack.

"Reid?"

He nodded and glanced from side to side. "Can I come in please, milady?"

She opened her door wider, and he walked in. Pinched under his arm was the wooden box. "I've come to give ye back the Fairy Flag."