Highland Revenge

by Brandy Golden

  Dungally was waiting for them. He held his great grizzled head proudly on his broad shoulders, the Brincairn colors of cranberry and green falling across his powerful thighs as he stood there, holding the reins of his stout black mount. The men were ready as well ... ready to follow the Lady Brincairn and Dungally, ready to avenge their mistress and support the clan.

  Dungally knew what had been done to Eileen, and he had taken her under his strong arm these past three years and helped to turn her into a fierce Scottish fighting lass, ready for battle against her half brother. There was little he could do in her battle against her own demons, created by Donald Brincairn; only time would battle those. But he and Jamie had done what they could, with the Kings help. They had tried to put things right should Gallagher ever return to claim his place. The old Laird would not get away completely with his evil mischief, not if Dungally and Jamie could thwart him.

  Eileen kissed Soren and held him tight while his little hand patted her soft cheek. Then she handed him to Melba. “Take good care of him, Melba,” she said gruffly. “I'll be back.” She smiled when his small pudgy hand waved at her, his cherubic little lips pursing in a kiss for her. The wind softly ruffled his golden curls, and she waved back at him.

  "Good bye, Mama,” Soren called enthusiastically, then sank back into the safety of Melba's loving arms, knowing his mother would return for him. She always came back.

  Eileen fell in between Dungally and Jamie, and the trio whirled their mounts towards the sea ... and Castle McKenna. The clan fell in behind them, each man fierce and determined to win, each carrying their shield with the lion crest. It was the Brincairn crest, symbolizing the devouring of all who stood in its way. Before the week was out, Castle McKenna would belong to the Brincairn clan and Canton would be defeated!

  * * * *

  "There she is, Kat ... Castle McKenna.” Morgan Mathias McAlester proudly pointed up to the castle perched on the rocks above the ocean cliff. It gleamed in the warm sunlight, its walls giving off a yellowing hue as the men put their backs into the launches heading for the beach.

  As they came closer, Katherine Fontaine McAlester could see the profusion of wild flowers running like bright trails and periodic clumps along the sweep to the beach, thinning as they reached the edge of the rocky loch that emptied into the sea. “It is wild and beautiful,” she murmured to her husband.

  "Aye, it is indeed,” agreed Gallagher Brincairn, staring hungrily at the sight before him. Home! At last, he was coming home! Although his home was several miles beyond the soft yellow keep of Castle McKenna, they were going to be on Scottish soil in a few moments.

  Throwing in with Morg in his plan to depose Canton McAlester had been too much to resist, and Gallagher had left the seafaring pirate's life to reclaim his own inheritance. Serving aboard the Nemesis, under Jacques LaSalle, had been a learning experience ... one that turned him from a boy to a man. The wind lifted his dark hair away from his proud forehead, the light sheen of moisture drying in the sea breeze as his smoky eyes scanned the shoreline eagerly.

  Briefly, he wondered if the old man had softened any while he was away. He doubted it, but time and distance had mellowed his own feelings, and he was ready for reconciliation. His cousin Jamie had insisted that he come back before his father did something foolish, but Gallagher had ignored him. That missive was tucked into the secret pocket inside his vest, but it was four years old. It had taken that long, and more, for Gallagher's own feelings to soften.

  He had left home at sixteen and was now twenty-five. It had been a long nine years. Those years of bitterness, and pain of betrayal, had left their mark on him. Yet he knew it was time to return ... time to take his rightful place as Laird of Brincairn, ruler of the clan Brincairn and Laird of Castle McCrae.

  Donald Brincairn had been old before his time when Gallagher had left; Gallagher had no reason to believe he was any better now. He might even be dead for all he knew, and if he were, then his cousin Jamie would be watching things in his absence.

  His lips thinned in a grimace of disgust, remembering the old man's harsh words about his mother after her early death. “She was just a woman, lad ... weak and sickly. Ye are better off without her."

  Gallagher had been sixteen when his frail mother had died, consumption of the lungs taking her breath away. He had been old enough to realize there was no love between his father and his mother, and he believed his father had helped her to an early grave by not caring for her properly.

  The argument had been bitter and fierce, and Gallagher had decided he couldn't stand to be around his cold and callous father any longer. The old man had told him that if he left, he would never be welcome in Castle McCrae again, and that he would be disowned. Gallagher had left, bitter and disillusioned.

  His stormy gray eyes no longer saw the windswept rocky shore ... instead he saw his mother's face. “Ye must seek real love one day, my son. I never had the privilege, but if ye stay here, ye will never find it. Go ... go out into the world and discover a different place ... one where there can be beauty and love. There is no love here in Castle McCrae ... there never will be as long as Donald Brincairn rules."

  "Gallagher! Wake up, lad!"

  Morg's urgent command brought Gallagher back to the present, and he looked up, startled at the tone in Morg's voice.

  "The castle is under attack ... and they are flying the lion flags of the Brincairn clan!” Morg signaled the ships and launch boats began dropping off The Queen, The Princess and The Rabbit, freshly anchored in the loch. Men dropped into them from the decks of the ships, filling them up and sending them racing towards the shore. They had come prepared for battle, and it looked as if someone was beating them to it!

  Gallagher was stunned. What was his father up to now? “Aye, I see that Morg, the question is, why?

  "I have no idea, but it's time to break it up,” he replied, and began barking orders. “Pete ... when I give the signal, send a cannon volley into the cliffs! Let's get the attention of both clans!” Morg sent Pete back to the ships to carry out his orders.

  With five hundred pirates behind them, Morg, Kat and Gallagher led the charge up the hillsides towards the fighting clans. Morg paused at the top of the ridge and flashed his broadsword in the sun. A cannonade of explosions landed along the hillsides, bursting over the sounds of men at arms and sending dirt and rocks high into the air.

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  Chapter Two

  Canton's cold blue eyes studied his half sister standing before him, her sword at his throat. The Brincairn clan had come upon the castle unexpectedly, and he hadn't been prepared. He had never dreamed that his young half sister would have the nerve to actually attack him, although he had been warned it might be coming. The bitterness of defeat was like bile in his throat, yet he refused to bow out gracefully. “What are ye going to do? Kill me in cold blood?"

  His voice held the sardonic humor of a man who knew his enemy. He knew she couldn't kill him, no matter what had happened in the past. She was a woman; she didn't have the gall and courage it took to kill a man. He, on the other hand, had no such qualms—something his Uncle Roger had learned the hard way.

  "Nay,” replied Eileen in disgust. She removed her sword, yet stood at the ready. “Castle McKenna is now mine. I put her under ownership of the Brincairn clan ... for now. It won't be long before my clan defeats yours, and it will all be over,” she mocked.

  "The McAlester clan is your clan too, or had you forgotten?"

  "Of course, I haven't forgotten, that's why I thought it best to remove you from leadership. I'll be a much better leader ... of both clans.” She smiled silkily at him, enjoying his discomfort.

  "Women can't run clans,” he retorted, his face mottling with anger. The silly chit didn't know what she was up against. No one but him would ever rule the McAlesters while he was alive. She might have the upper hand now, but it wouldn't always be so.

  "Canton, anyone can run the clan better than you can, you've n
early depleted the coffers of Castle McKenna twice over now.” She smiled triumphantly when he cast her a startled glance. “Yes, I know that you sold me as a breeding mare to the old Laird. I also know you've managed to go through everything you were paid for me."

  They were both startled at the sound of cannon fire echoing through the Castle. “Take him,” commanded Eileen. Two burly Scots stepped forward and dragged Canton after her as she strode to the front doors of Castle McKenna and flung them open wide, gaping at the incredulous sight before her.

  Everywhere, men had stopped fighting and were staring in astonishment as hordes of what looked like pirates began swarming into the fray, their broadswords at the ready. No one challenged them though; they all gaped instead.

  Eileen stared as the pirates took up strategic positions with just a command from a huge blonde leader, whose hair was drawn back into a ponytail. He seemed familiar. Morg! It was Morg! Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of her brother, but she pushed the joy she felt back down. He didn't deserve a welcome from her. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the small red-haired woman on one side of him, and the handsome, bold pirate with flashing gray eyes on the other side.

  "Gallagher!” exclaimed Jamie in delight. It was good to see his cousin, even if apprehension lurked in the back of his mind. Things were going to change, though, something Jamie looked forward to and dreaded at the same time.

  "Aye, and Morgan,” added Canton bitterly. “I'd recognize that cocky arrogance anywhere."

  The trio came to a halt in front of Eileen and Jamie. Morg's green eyes were flashing in the brilliant evening sunlight. They tapered to slits as he recognized the features of his sister, although the woman's body didn't match the girl he had left. Neither did the cold look of scorn on her now womanly features.

  Men from both clans gathered around, their fight forgotten in the drama unfolding before them.

  "What's going on, Jamie, why are ye attacking the McAlester clan?” Gallagher stepped forward, dragging his gaze from the strikingly beautiful blonde woman in favor of his cousin.

  Eileen stepped proudly in front of the handsome pirate, her purple eyes flashing daggers. “It is I who am attacking; I'm taking over Castle McKenna,” she said contemptuously. She tossed her head arrogantly. “As leader of the Brincairn clan, I claim this Castle.

  "Leader of the Brincairn clan?” Gallagher was aghast. What in the world had happened in his absence? Donald Brincairn must be dead, or else no woman would dare claim to rule the Brincairn clan! But who was she? His lips tightened as he scanned her comely figure.

  Morg stepped forward, solving the puzzle. “Ye can't claim what is already ours, lass. Ye are a McAlester.” He looked puzzled and his voice dropped. “Leeni, what is going on?” His eyes softened as his soft burr whirred over his childhood nickname for his sister.

  "Nay, I'm a Brincairn now,” she responded bitterly, “thanks to dear Canton here.” She stared at Morg in tacit anger, her heart wanting to embrace him, but the hurt of the past four years holding her back, freezing her in place. He had let her down. “And with no thanks to you,” she added fiercely, lifting her sword to his heart.

  "Ye had best remove that sword, Leeni,” warned Morg, from low in his throat. “Or I'll have to take it away from ye, and ye won't like the consequences.” He didn't know what was going on here, but he didn't like the hardness on Leeni's face. She wasn't the little sister he remembered, but a cold and seemingly vinegary woman.

  "Eileen, I'm pleased to meet you,” chimed in Kat, understanding the tone in Morg's voice all too well. “I'm Kat, Morg's wife.” She smiled encouragingly at Morg's sister, her warning green eyes willing the younger girl to meet her halfway as she stepped up and held out her hand.

  Kat recognized the despair and anger behind Eileen's tones and knew that Morg's absence must have hurt her deeply. She was no stranger to those emotions herself ... but someone needed to diffuse what was quickly becoming a volatile situation. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Eileen reluctantly lowered her sword and allowed Kat to take her hand.

  * * * *

  Gallagher paced the floor of the castle library; incredulous at the things Jamie was telling him. “He married Morg's sister? And produced an heir to disinherit me? I can hardly believe this, Jamie! That would make her my ... stepmother!"

  He grimaced with distaste. Nothing on God's earth would ever make him see the beautiful girl, five years his younger, as a stepmother. He couldn't deny the impact she had made on him with a single flash of those glorious eyes. Never had he seen such eyes as those in all his travels. Had the old man totally lost his mind?

  Jamie nodded warily, envious of the power that emanated from his cousin. Gallagher had grown up with a vengeance and was no longer the lad that had left nine years ago. “Aye, that it would."

  "How is it that she rules the clan? And why does Dungally allow it?” Gallagher stopped pacing and pinned him in an uncomfortable stare, his masculine aura overpowering the stature of his cousin.

  Jamie was not the same muscular, arrogant build of Gallagher, and he felt at a distinct disadvantage, but he tried to answer the questions that came hard and fast.

  They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and Jamie opened it. Dungally stood there, his graying head nodding at Gallagher as he stepped into the room. “Welcome back, lad. Tis good to see ye."

  Gallagher took the proffered meaty paw and felt the other clap onto his shoulder. “It's good to be back, Dungally, although things seem to be a mess.” He surveyed the giant of a man fondly.

  "Aye,” he agreed, “there have been many changes since ye left.” He eyed the younger man in return, his blue eyes appraising the changes time had wrought. Physically and mentally, Gallagher had the makings of a Brincairn, a man who knew how to lead. He was just what the clan was in sore need of.

  "How is it that ye honor my ... stepmother's claim to the clan?” Gallagher's tongue slid over the words like a bad taste in his mouth.

  The older man's lips tightened at his words, but he showed little other emotion. “She was the Laird's wife, and the bairn is too wee yet. She claimed her right by clan law to be the leader until the bairn is old enough, or until she takes a husband."

  "And if I choose to take my rightful place, will ye honor it?"

  Dungally stroked his graying beard thoughtfully. “I've been giving it some thought these last few years whilst the lass has been in charge. Jamie and I figured ye would return eventually, and we made a decision as to what should be done to put things right, without breaking the old Laird's decrees."

  Jamie watched Gallagher warily. He knew his cousin wasn't going to like this. What man would ... in his place? Although Jamie would like to be in his place, he didn't have the temperament for handling Eileen. She was far too bold and arrogant for the likes of him. He could never handle her, and she would never respect him otherwise. Both he and Dungally had discussed it at length and both agreed. Eileen needed a strong man, and Jamie was not that man.

  "And?"

  "And we've decided ye need to wed the lass."

  "Wed her?” Gallagher stared at them both in dismay. “It's against the law!” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, realizing he didn't find the idea itself totally abhorrent.

  "Yes, Gallagher, but not if the King okays it,” Jamie replied carefully. “In order to meet the clan laws and thwart Donald Brincairn's decree, only her husband can rightfully take over as clan leader. And by law, what's hers would then be yours. So, you would have your inheritance and status back, and all would be restored to its proper place."

  "But ... that would make me a stepfather to my own half brother! Tis unheard of!"

  Jamie and Dungally glanced at each other. “The child is NOT the Laird's,” Jamie finally admitted.

  Gallagher started in surprise. “Then whose is it?” His face grimaced in disgust. “Are ye saying my father is trying to foist a bastard off as the heir to the Clan Brincairn? By the Gods, I won't allow it!"

&nb
sp; Dungally's visage grew stern and foreboding. “The bairn's sire is of no concern at this time. Lady Eileen will divulge that in her own time, if she chooses. I won't have her or the bairn harmed through no fault of her own. She is a good lass, and will make ye a fine wife."

  "Dungally, ye surely cannot expect me to wed an unfaithful woman?” Gallagher was angry and confused.

  "She was not unfaithful, Gallagher,” replied Jamie. Seeing the confusion in his cousin's gray eyes, he added. “She was forced."

  "By who?” Gallagher's protective instincts screamed in protest at the idea of the beautiful girl being forced against her will.

  "That, we cannot divulge."

  Gallagher's quick mind began to pick up the unspoken words. “But my father knew ... didn't he?"

  Jamie flushed scarlet. “Aye,” he said at last, heavy regret in his voice. “He knew."

  "The bastard,” hissed Gallagher. “So he took the bairn as his own and put him forth to displace me.” Gallagher began pacing furiously. “And she has continued the charade, thinking to put her bastard son in my place? How can ye approve of this, Dungally?” He stopped in front of the big man, confusion and fury distorting his face.

  "The Lady Eileen has done no wrong,” protested Jamie. “If the truth were to come out, she would be shamed and shunned, as well as her son.” He rounded on Gallagher, his soft brown eyes blazing. “If ye try to hurt her by divulging this information, we will deny we ever told you,” he said angrily. “Twould be your word against ours."

  "Gallagher, ye are a good lad ... have faith in us ... and in the Lady Eileen. All will be as it should if ye wed the lass.” Dungally appealed to Gallagher, trusting they had done the right thing in telling him the truth.