Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

" A letter from the Mackenzie clan, milaird," one of Kendrick's soldiers announced, his voice echoing through the great hall.

The hall was near empty for their meeting, save for Kendrick, Logan, three councilmen, Angus, a decorated war chief of the clan, Reed and the man who had spoken.

"Read it," Kendrick instructed.

The man tore open the milk-white envelope, pulled free the missive and read, " Laird MacNeil, I appreciate yer loyalty to my clan as we are also loyal to ye as well. If it favors ye, I would ask ye pay a visit to my clan on the morrow so we can discuss better. Sincerely, Laird Mackenzie."

Kendrick leaned forward in his chair, his hands carrying the weight of his head. He reached out for the letter and silently read it again.

"Ye've all heard the message," he addressed the crowd in the hall. "We leave for the Mackenzie clan at sunrise." He turned to the war chief. "Prepare fifty soldiers." Then to Logan and Reed he said, "Ye'll both be coming as well."

"What about the farm issues, milaird?" the youngest of three councilmen asked. "Will there be a reward for our loyalty?"

"Truly—do we need a benefit to help our allies?" Kendrick did not direct the question to the youngest councilman but to everyone present. "There may or may not be rewards to reap. What matters more is that we defend our Highland brothers from the wickedness of another."

Everyone in the hall chorused their support.

"Nae man shall have a dram tonight! We have to be as sharp as owls at night while we journey… I trust if news reaches Munro, he will nae let it pass lightly," Kendrick commanded further. "Ready the horses before dawn. We should all take our leaves and rest." Kendrick stood, and everyone in the great hall bowed. "May I speak with ye, Uncle?"

"Aye, milaird."

"I heard ye went to Angus' estate." He looked away. "Did Sophia tell ye what may have happened?"

"Nae, milaird. I did ask, but the lass is a tough one to convince."

Logan had described it perfectly. Sophia was unreadable, not easy to understand. Always keeping him on his toes. Perhaps that is what drew Kendrick to her in the first place and it was exactly that which drove him mad. He had spent the past two nights trying to connect the dots, yet he still did not know what he was connecting, exactly.

"If I must say, I think ye should question Catherine," Logan said. "I was able to get a hint from the lass that she is somehow involved."

"I questioned her. However, she seemed nae to ken a thing about it, and Sophia would nae leave because of a maidservant."

Logan gave Kendrick a knowing look. "Aye, she would nae, unless, of course, there is a strong, unforgiveable reason."

There came the idea again. Something in Kendrick believed Catherine may have told Sophia about her pregnancy. Still, he doubted the maid would go against him like that.

Nae, she wouldn't dare.

"I shall find out once we return from the Mackenzie clan." Kendrick halted in front of his chamber. "I somehow share in yer suspicions as well."

Logan nodded. He gave Kendrick a pat on his shoulder before departing.

"Mother! Mother can ye hear me? A brooch—'tis father's brooch. Why is it soaked in mother's blood?"

"Let's go, bairn. Ye shouldn't be here."

"Father, ye killed mother! Ye're the killer."

Kendrick jumped out of bed, drenched in sweat. The room was illuminated by only one candle,the others were all out—onlymelted wax in the shape of shapeless mounds remained.

"Milaird!" a male voice called from outside. "The sun will soon be up, and the maids have drawn a morning bath for ye."

"Aye… ye may leave."

The nightmares keep getting worse ever since Sophia left. I cannae even find her in my dreams anymore. I must bring her back.

Kendrick brought his father's brooch from where it lay beneath his pillow. He touched it, clenching it tightly.

For the first time since ye died, yer showing yer face in my dreams. Are ye tired of showing only yer back? Just watch—I'll be different. I will be a better husband.

He tossed the brooch back under his pillow and slid out of bed. He changed into his white shirt, a brown coat to cover it, and a kilt and sporran after a quick bath. He put on long brown socks and boots, and drew out and clipped his plaid over his shoulder. He tied his curly dark hair back and strapped his sword to his side.

The horses were saddled and lined up when he arrived in the courtyard. In front of the horses were fifty warriors, his war chief, Logan, and Reed who was attempting to tame Kendrick's stallion. When he saw Kendrick, the horse went wild.

Kendrick dashed forward to seize the reins from his friend. He rubbed the mount's black tuft of fur, putting an end to its temper tantrums.

Heturned to face his soldiers. Despite the coldness of the morning, they stood motionless and unmoved. Their expressions were hard and determined. The men would give their lives for their laird at the drop of a hat. They'd cut off their own hands and throw them at his feet even if he didn't ask.

For his men, all was worth fighting for.

"This morning, we ride through the fields to the Mackenzie clan. Dinnae forget yerselves for a moment. We must be on our guard so that the Munro bastards dinnae take us by surprise."

"Aye, milaird!" They answered in such unison that even the roosters crowed to join them. Each soldier mounted his horse. Kendrick, Logan and Reed rode at the front—the war chief and the other soldiers behind them.

The first hour of their journey was quiet. It was only after the sun had begun to shine that they stopped at a stream for water.

The green expanse beside the stream was mesmerizing. The trees were bright green, nourished with sunlight. The grass was just as lush. The water was clear enough that one could see the earth and pebbles beneath it. The water passed through, crashing against the large wet rocks that futilely attempted to halt its flow.

Each man lowered themselves down, thirstily scooping the cold, fresh water into their mouths and cleaning off their faces. When they had all had their full, some of the younger boys helped the horses to a dram of the same water. The other soldiers made jests about women and wars. They spent a small moment at the stream before Kendrick ordered every man to mount back on their horse so their journey could continue.

"Kendrick," Logan said. "Ye've been sighing at intervals as if ye're deep in thought. Mayhap, something bothers ye?

For heaven's sake!

Was his frustration that evident? He had not even realized he was sighing out loud. Now, Reed's attention was also drawn on him. The lad's eyes were filled with worry even though they had not gotten over their differences.

"Aye, Uncle," Kendrick muttered, almost unwilling to share his frustration. "The nightmare… it keeps getting worse—and different."

" Different ?" Reed interjected. "How so?"

"The Laird… he showed me his face in my dream last night."

"Ye mean, yer father?"

"Aye, my da. I've never seen his face in my dreams before, only his back. He was standing behind me. What do ye make of this, Uncle?"

Logan did not look like he had heard him. He resembled a man carrying the weight of the Highlands on his shoulders.

"Uncle?" Kendrick called again. Logan shook, seemingly startled, confusing Kendrick. "Are ye well, Uncle?"

"Aye," was the only word Logan spilled. He nudged his horse forward, creating a large pace between himself and the others, including Kendrick and Reed. The two friends shared a surprised look.

"Whatever is wrong with the man?" Reed inquired.

"I dinnae ken, truly."

It had taken them three hours to reach the Mackenzie clan lands. Laird Mackenzie, a well-built man of middle age, stood at the top of a hill with a line of twenty-eight warriors. The man's skin was bronzed from the scorching sun, and his long, reddish-brown hair was tied back.

When they got close to the hill where he was standing, Kendrick could tell by the way the man's lips widened that he was there to greet them. He was dressed in a deep leaf-green kilt, but his chest was almost naked, save for a scrap of plaid. His warriors wore only as much clothing as their laird, and his feet were bare.

Kendrick was the first to dismount his stallion, handing the reins over to Reed. He walked up the hill slowly. At last, he came face to face with Mackenzie. They nodded, then they both proceeded to give each other a warm slap on the shoulder.

"Mackenzie."

"MacNeil."

They both greeted, then they retreated from each other.

"It has been too long, my friend," Laird Mackenzie said, his golden eyes beaming.

"Aye, it has."

"Tis a pleasure to have ye here. Please, come inside with yer men. Let me treat ye and yer warriors to a braw feast as we discuss."

"Tis very kind of ye." Kendrick turned, waving to his men it was safe to proceed. Logan, Reed and the war chief tumbled off their own mounts to join Kendrick and Laird Mackenzie.

"We meet again, Mackenzie," Logan called as he approached them.

"Aye, Logan—we meet again." They shared a handshake, yet there was still thick air between them. The coolness in their voices made it evident something was amiss.

Theydisagreed on a number of issues. They were, in fact, polar opposites. When Mackenzie visited the MacNeil clan when Kendrick was only sixteen, both men challenged each other to a duel. That was the only way they could make an informed decision about who had the better strategy. Their differencescaused them to bicker so much that they could be best friends instead.

That opinion, of course, he kept to himself, of course.

"My closest ally, Reed." Kendrick made a formal introduction to Mackenzie. Aye, he and Reed had bad blood between them, but the man was still his truest friend.

"We should head inside—we dinnae want yer food to go cold."

The men made their way into the feasting hall of the keep, with Mackenzie leading the way and the others following behind. The hall was not much different from the one in Kendrick's castle. Long, wooden tables and chairs for a feast of eighty men had been laid out.

"Before we proceed," Mackenzie announced at the head of his table. "I would start by thanking the MacNeil clansmen who are present." He tilted his head to Kendrick by his right, then to the MacNeil warriors. "They nae only warned us of an impending threat on our clan, they also offered to help us if and when we are attacked by the Munro men. In return, I'll give the farmers of their great clan a share of this year's harvest."

Happy howls and cheers thundered in the great hall. In the midst of Kendrick's turmoil, he at last found a reason to smile. His clan would not starve so terribly—and after he had returned to his own clan, Sophia would be his to secure. He thought of how delighted she would be to find out his visit to the Mackenzie clan had been a success.

And then he remembered that he had not given her a brooch.

On damned Highlands—how could I forget something so dearly important? I must get her one after I am able to bring her back to the keep. Aye, I must.

Mackenzie called for the servants, and soon the tables were decorated with bottles of ale and plates of meat. A bronze chandelier hung perfectly above every table. A plain, green tapestried wall gave brightness to the hall.

The two lairds sat at the middle table; Kendrick by the left where his soldiers took seat, and Mackenzie by the right with his own men.

"A toast to yet another alliance by the MacNeil and Mackenzie clans!" Mackenzie cheered, lifting his goblet of ale above his head. "May the flames of the friendship between our clans never burn out."

All the men in the great hall also lifted their tankards. "May the flames of the friendship between our clans never burn out!"

The chorus was followed by the noise of steel goblets crashing against each other in merriment. They proceeded to treat themselves to the assorted dishes of haggis, boiled pork, Cullen skink, supplemented with cabbage and bread.

They had barely finished eating when a young warrior ran into the great hall.

A bloodied cut sat on his shoulder, and his plaid was loose and stained red. It was clear he had been involved in some sort of struggle. He threw his hand over the injured shoulder to control the bleeding.

"M-milaird!" the slender warrior panted. "We're being attacked."