Chapter Thirty-Three

"There is no fire like passion, there is no shark like hatred, there is no snare like folly, there is no torrent like greed."

Gautama Buddha, 564BC

Sara ushered Reid inside and slid the bar across the door. "I don't understand any of this, Reid. I didn't know you took it. I don't even know who you are."

His brow was furrowed, his eyes sad. "I apologize that I didn't tell ye back at Dunvegan that I was loyal to yer clan, milady. I was sent there three years ago to get close to Lord Alasdair. When he died this past winter, I remained in the household sending information to yer father about what I heard. My sister had come by then, masquerading as a common woman who meant to set up home in the village. Even though I'd infiltrated the castle, yer father thought she could gain more information from Jamie's bed."

His words came fast, and he shook his head. "I didn't know she was going to kill him and in such a terrible way." The box in his hands seemed to weigh too much for him, and he set it on a table near the fire. Reid looked like a man about to buckle under the stress of his mission.

"Sit." She pulled up a chair for him across from her own.

From his leather pouch, he pulled a scarf that was the same pale gold color as the silk flag. "Ye can switch this out for the flag."

He pushed the scarf into her hands, and she stared in confusion at it for a long moment before raising her gaze to Reid. "But you carried the Fairy Flag all the way here," Sara said. "Why are you giving it back to me?"

Reid dropped his face in his hands, unknowingly mimicking her own small collapse before he knocked. "I saw the box under Lady Eleri's bed when I came to retrieve ye one day. 'Twas always part of my purpose at Dunvegan, ordered by yer father, milady. Find the Fairy Flag and bring it to Dunscaith." He looked up at her. "That was all before I met ye at Dunvegan." He stood as if nervous energy pushed him from his seat and paced before the fire. "When I saw the box sitting there, I came back when Lady Eleri left with ye, and I buried it in the woods."

Three steps forward, swivel, and three steps back. "When everyone started to blame ye and then Jamie was poisoned, I didn't know what to do." He looked at her. "I was supposed to give it to Chief Macdonald, but I didn't want ye to suffer for it. When ye were sent away, I took it with us to fulfill my mission. I wrestled with telling ye the whole way here."

"But you told my father I took it." She tried to keep her words unintrusive as he talked. It was the most he'd ever said to her.

"He was going to hit ye," Reid said, shaking his head. "I didn't know how to stop him. When Kenan did, I grabbed the box, knowing that if Chief Macdonald thought ye brought him the flag, he'd celebrate ye instead of hurting ye. I…I couldn't stand to see ye come to harm, milady."

It was true that she'd be in Dunscaith's dungeon right now instead of her old room if she hadn't shown up with the Fairy Flag. Still seated, Sara looked up. "Thank you, Reid. You are clever and brave."

He exhaled. "And a bloody fool."

Her brows pinched together. "A fool?"

He looked into the fire. "I've lived with the MacLeods for three years. Master Rory was always fair. Lady Eleri and Mistress Margaret were kind. I don't want them to be hurt in this war. I don't want to be the one responsible for it. 'Tis bad enough that my sister is a murderer. And yer father, milady…"

He shook his head again. "Trying to burn them in God's house. Such unholy actions are heavy sins I cannot be part of." He passed the sign of the cross before him, the weight of his conscience making his shoulders roll forward. "I'm not brave enough to suffer God's wrath."

"So you're giving me the flag?"

He looked up at her. "Aye, milady." He inhaled fully. "I'm giving ye the flag to either fly over the Macdonald army or to return it to the MacLeod Clan." He shook his head. "I don't know what's right anymore."

And Reid expected her to know what was right? She was to decide the fate of two huge clans after she'd been abandoned by both.

Sara released a long breath. "Does anyone know you're giving it to me? Winnie?"

He shook his head. "Nay. I would never tell her." He frowned with deep disappointment. "Winnie wasn't always so calculating. When we were young, she aspired to become the lady of a castle. Now she will do anything to obtain her goal. When Jamie said he didn't want her in Dunvegan anymore, she…reacted poorly."

Poorly? She'd tortured and killed the man.

"Then she returned to Dunscaith to pick up her relationship with yer brother, Gilbert. She's told me she plans to be lady of Dunscaith or Dunvegan if the Macdonalds take it away from the MacLeods." He stared into the fire. "All of it means bloodshed."

"And Scotland will slowly bleed to death," Sara said.

His face turned to her. "We should be guarding our borders and coastlines against foreign enemies, not fighting against one another."

Sara's gaze drifted to the box. It belonged to the MacLeods, and she didn't think Rory would use it against a Scottish clan. He wanted to make Scotland strong.

"It belongs with the MacLeods, with Rory." Even if Rory had sent her away.

Reid's face fell in his hands. "I shouldn't have taken it, but once I told Winnie there was no putting it back."

"Reid, you should return the flag to Dunvegan," she said and swallowed hard. "Tell them…" She felt tears in her eyes but blinked them back. "Tell them I took it, and you returned it. Then you can live in safety there. If the flag disappears, and you are here, my father might decide you're a traitor."

She might be blamed, but Kenan would help get her to mainland Scotland. She'd look for her mother's family, the Gunns.

He shook his head. "I'm done with lying, and I won't do something to hurt ye, milady."

She stroked the false flag still in her hands as he talked, letting the relief wash over her. Despite everything, she didn't want Rory to think she'd lied to him.

"I'll return to Dunvegan," Reid said, "and let them know I've seen Chief Macdonald readying for war. I plan to ride away at first light. And I won't mention the flag to Lord Rory." He looked at her. "Maybe ye should destroy it."

The flag was a piece of history whether it was magic or not. Destroying it was like destroying a piece of Scotland. Sara couldn't imagine doing that.

She followed him to the door. "Thank you, Master Reid, for all your service and protection."

"I only wish I was more worthy, milady." He slid out into the dark corridor.

Sara turned, leaning back against the door, and stared at the box. It was square and ancient, the wood stained and dry. The thought of throwing it in the fire made prickles slide under her skin. No . She would hide it so her father couldn't use it. But where? 'Twas a wonder she hadn't noticed its pointed corners in Reid's satchels. She'd been too heartbroken to notice much of anything.

Moving the false flag aside, she opened the lid and stared down at the yellowish silk of the real Fairy Flag. The flag opened as she pulled it out, exposing its design of crosses stitched with gold thread and red rowan berries scattered across it, the colors having faded over the centuries. Lifting her top petticoat, Sara caught the edge of the flag in her waistband, tucking it gingerly around her like a short inner skirt. The rest of it slid down like another petticoat, and she lowered the outer skirt over it. "Safe and with me."

She folded the false flag to put it inside the box. Looking into the bottom, she saw a small piece of paper and drew it out. It had sat under the real flag.

This flag was given to Clan MacLeod by a princess from the fairy realm. Clan MacLeod is the rightful keeper of this flag, and we will destroy anyone who takes it.

Two signatures sat below in the stilted lettering of a child learning to write.

Jamie MacLeod and Rory MacLeod

Sara ran her finger over Rory's name. Had he and his brother hidden this note inside the box when they were boys? A warning to future enemies and thieves?

Whether there was power in the rectangular piece of silk or not, it did belong to Clan MacLeod, and she would see it returned. She would prove to Rory that she hadn't taken it.

She set the false flag in the box and closed the lid. She'd have to return it to the library before anyone noticed it was missing. Sara stood before the flames dancing in the hearth. The note was crisp between her fingers, and she almost threw it in. But she tucked it into her bodice.

It was a small piece of Rory. She pressed her palm against it. Rory . His unique amber eyes, so piercing, staring into her own as they teased each other over the chessboard and then later as they came together. Their mouths and hands exploring every inch of each other, taking and giving. Trusting. It had been as false as the yellow scarf now in the box.

…

"We will break into three armies," Rory said to Jok and Brodrick. "Left and right flanks, and I will be part of the forward push. Keep your armies back," he said, looking at both men in their eyes until they nodded.

"Then I will feign retreat to bring the Macdonalds into our trap. Once they follow us onto the upper moor above Dunscaith," he said, pointing to a map he'd drawn out from scouting the Sleat peninsula in years past, "the left and right flanks will charge in."

"They'll be surrounded," Jok said, nodding.

"What if they're flying the Fairy Flag overhead?" Brodrick asked.

"Shoot it with a flaming arrow," Rory said. "We will have a vat of burning pitch for each of the three armies. Light one of the arrows with whisky-soaked wool balled up on the tip and shoot the damn flag."

"'Tis a bloody shame," Brodrick said, but he nodded, knowing it couldn't save them if the Macdonalds were flying it.

"And what if we see Lady Sara?" Jok asked.

Without hesitation, Rory said, "Keep her alive and get her out of there."

Brodrick's face opened in surprise. "Ye mean to bring her back? After she stole the flag and killed Jamie?"

Rory turned his hard stare on the man. "Evidence points to her innocence," Rory said. "She's to be brought safely here."

"What evidence?" Brodrick asked.

Rory took two steps forward so he stood nose to nose with the man who'd judged Sara guilty from the start. Rory didn't bother to hide the threat in his gaze and stance. "Evidence that I, yer chief, has seen and weighed. If ye cannot uphold my orders, ye may leave Dunvegan today or remain behind in the pit to think about yer loyalties, Brodrick MacLeod."

Brodrick's face reddened, and he gave a nod. "I march with Clan MacLeod."

"Then ye follow my orders and keep yer thoughts to yerself." Tamped fury swirled like a whirlwind of fire up inside Rory. If the man wanted to be knocked on his arse and thrown in the pit, Rory would oblige him. "I will have no traitors in my ranks."

Brodrick stood straight. "I am no traitor to Clan MacLeod." He balanced on the edge of insolence but held himself just from it.

Jok's hand landed on Rory's shoulder. "Brodrick knows how to follow orders. Don't ye, Brodrick?"

"Aye."

Rory inhaled, grappling with control, but he finally took a step back, and Jok dropped his hand. Rory turned on his heel. "We ride!"

"To Dunscaith!" the men yelled, their call rising up like a wave across the one thousand strong, half on horses and half on foot. "To victory!"

Rory mounted Airgid while Jok and Brodrick mounted their own horses and rode out to lead their armies. Jok led the cavalry and Brodrick led the archers. Rory led those men fighting on foot with swords and shields.

The march would be brisk but slow enough not to wear out his men and their mounts. They'd need their energy to fight the Macdonalds, especially if they flew the Fairy Flag. Not that Rory really believed in fairy magic. But he knew the influence it would have over the men on both sides, because they believed in the Fairy Flag's power. So, he wanted it taken out of the battle as soon as possible.

An hour later, as they marched past Morag's cottage, she came outside to watch. Rory saw more than one man pass the sign of the cross before himself at the sight of the white-haired woman with her black crows. The birds flapped overhead and on the posts near her, jostling for a closer position to the woman who held up bits of oatcake for them to eat.

Her expression was neutral, watching as if she were a chronicler who would then go inside to write about the MacLeods riding off to war against the Macdonalds. Would future Skye inhabitants think he was foolish to march against a clan flying the Fairy Flag? Rory glowered as he watched ahead of him over the rolling countryside.

Would they speculate that the true reason Rory marched, using every weapon he had and all his men, was to find and bring Sara back to Dunvegan?

To bring her back to him?

…

"I've heard you've obtained the pagan flag," Father Lockerby said to Walter Macdonald.

Sara watched her father shovel more pigeon pie into his maw, munching away at it with the same single-mindedness with which he ordered people about. He didn't answer the priest but patted the wooden box that sat beside him on the table in Dunscaith's great hall. The box's presence, with the false flag inside, had made it hard for Sara to breathe.

The priest's eyes narrowed. "Do you plan to use it?"

Sara forced herself to eat some of the hens' eggs that had been baked and served with fresh yeast rolls. She'd snuck the false flag in the box back to the library during the night Reid had given it to her. Her father had been so busy with preparations that he'd blessedly left it there until that morning.

Gilbert sat farther down the table. "We'll unfurl it when we reach Dunvegan, and it'll make our warriors multiply in number and strength." He sat his tankard down with a clunk .

Kenan watched it all with a silent frown. Would he go against their father? Kenan hadn't encouraged the feud before, but since he'd returned from the English prison, he'd openly argued against it. He'd pressed the need for peace until he was faced with choosing to go along with their father's plan or killing him. Sara didn't think he'd decided yet.

The disgruntled priest kissed the crucifix he wore on twine around his neck. "'Tis pagan magic. It should be burned, not flown about as if calling Lucifer to aid ye."

Walter frowned at the priest. "God has brought it to me, and I will use what He has provided."

"God did not bring it to ye," Lockerby snapped, "she did." He pointed a long finger toward Sara as if she were indeed Lucifer. "Using it is a sin of great magnitude."

Walter stood slowly, dropping his eating knife so it clanged on the pewter plate. He walked over to the priest, but the man didn't cower. They were of equal height, but the priest had a way of looking like he stared down with condemnation as if he were God on his heavenly throne. Her father's voice started at an even volume and increased. "For generations, the MacLeods have been our foes, and the only reason we have not taken Dunvegan and MacLeod territory is because of that damn flag."

The priest tried to get in words. "That is not—"

"And now we have it, and we will win the land my ancestors died for!" Growing fury and self-righteous indignation flared red in Walter's face, but Father Lockerby didn't seem to care.

"They should be dying for God, not for land!" Father Lockerby yelled back. "I did not condemn ye for burning St. Mary's Chapel, a house of God, but using pagan magic…" He shook his head. "Flying it above yer army…'Tis blasphemy!"

Walter threw his arm out to the side. "Be gone, priest! We have no need of yer services." He turned away. "The MacLeods, on the other hand, will need yer last rites."

"We will need him for the wedding vows," Winnie said as she entered the room. Having missed most of the shouting, her mouth curled up in a playful smile, and she walked over to touch Gilbert's arm as if to proclaim that he was hers.

Father Lockerby marched toward the double doors leading to the bailey. "I'll remain, taking confessions for those souls who wish to recant their sinful or pagan ways."

Walter raised his tankard, toasting the cleric. "Good day, ye grumpy old bull." He smiled. Apparently, the joy filling him at the thought of conquering his lifelong enemy made him more forgiving. That forgiveness wouldn't save her if he discovered that she'd switched out the real Fairy Flag.

Walter walked back to the table, sitting near the box, as if he couldn't be parted from it. His fingers toyed with the latch, and Sara's breath caught as he raised the lid, looking down into the darkness of the box.

"What shall I do, Father?" Sara asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice as she tried to distract him. "I would be of help. My friend, Beatrice, and I can prepare Dunscaith for a siege just in case?"

His face turned to her, and he let the lid fall shut. "My daughter," he said, studying her. "Ye've done well bringing me this weapon. If the MacLeods bring war here, this," he thumped the box with his hand, "will stop them in their tracks. No need to increase supplies or move the villagers inside the walls."

"Father," Kenan said, unable to sit quietly by, "preparation doesn't lessen the power of the flag." Sara knew Kenan didn't put much stock in the magic of the flag, either, but saying that outright would turn their father into an even more stubborn arse. "'Twould be best that Sara and our attendants store and prepare food for the villagers and alert them in case they must retreat inside the safety of our walls."

Walter pointed at him, his face red. "Ye concern yerself with my armies, not women's work."

"I'll start preparing," Sara said.

"I don't want anyone sleeping in my hall because ye've scared them," Walter said.

She nodded. "I'll remind them to listen for our warning bell."

Gilbert stood. "'Tis best to let the womenfolk work on something else or they'll get underfoot."

Underfoot? Gilbert would get her foot kicked under his plaid if he kept talking that way. Sara let her breath out slowly, and Kenan tipped his head to her, his brow rising in a look of surprised admiration for her control.

Rapid footsteps bounded down the stairs in the corner tower, and one of Kenan's warriors, Ian, emerged. "Riders are breaking through the forest."

Kenan rose, his hand on his sheathed sword. "English?"

"Nay," Ian said. "They're Scots. I think MacLeods." Sara's heart leaped with a rapid thumping.

Walter pushed his chair back, making it tumble. "They've come for the flag. Saves us a trip to Dunvegan." He grinned widely and grabbed the box, striding toward the door. "'Tis time to defeat these bastards." Gilbert jogged after him.

"Be safe, my love," Winnie called.

"Kenan, wait," Sara said, running to him. She rose on her toes, her fingers curling into his tunic.

"I need to direct our men, Sara," he said, his eyes following his father and brother.

She yanked, and he lowered his ear. The words burst from her numb lips. "I replaced the Fairy Flag in that box with a silk scarf."

For the space of two heartbeats, Kenan stared at her. He exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his mouth before he stared directly at her.

"Get out of here, Sara. He will kill ye."