Wolf Castle

by Heather Walker

  Christie buried his face in his brother’s chest and sobbed. Sadie gathered up all the bloody cloths and threw them in a basket. She glanced up to find Lachlan watching her. She took the basket and got to her feet.

  Lachlan laid Christie on the blankets and leapt to his feet. “Wait, lassie.”

  She started to walk away. “Thank you for your help. I know you have a lot of work to do defending this place from those things.”

  He hurried after her. “I’m ne’er too busy tae talk tae ye, lassie. I want tae thank ye fer yer work ’ere. We all appreciate it, I’m sure.”

  She stole a glance at him. His crystal blue eyes drilled into her soul. “It’s nothing. I’m grateful to you for taking me in. You didn’t have to. You had no reason to trust me. Helping out is the least I can do under the circumstances.”

  He followed her out into the passage, where she dumped the cloths into a large laundry hamper. He stopped at her elbow. “Ye mun’ let me help ye whene’er ye need it—not just wi’ Christie, but wi’ all o’ ’em.”

  “I don’t need help with all of them. Most of them can handle it on their own, like Blair.”

  “It’s no them I’m talkin’ aboot,” he replied. “It’s ye. Ye’ve been workin’ withoot a break since you showed up ’ere. Ye’ll destroy yerself doin’ that. I dinnae want tae see ye slavin’ o’er the wounded like this, but ye’ll no heed me warnin’ nor obey me orders like a soldier, so I’ll just ha’e tae say’t from me heart. I cinnae see ye like this, lassie. It breaks me heart tae see ye unhappy. I would gi’e all I had tae send ye away o’ all this.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “Don’t send me away. This is my life’s work, and I couldn’t be happy somewhere else if I knew this was happening and there was something I could do to help.”

  He took a step closer. “Is there no room in there fer me, lassie?”

  Her head shot up. “You? What do you mean?”

  “Can I dare tae believe ye’d no wish tae be elsewhere fer ye’d no be happy away o’ me? Ye dinnae say it, fer ye dinnae feel it. Say I’m right.”

  The blood rushed to her cheeks. She ached to look into his eyes, but she only stared down at the floor instead. “You know I care for you, Lachlan. You know I’d give anything to help your people right now.”

  He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips down her cheek. The touch sent a quiver of excitement through her. “Dinnae say anymore, lassie. Ye said ye care fer me, and that’s enough. I would win yer heart if I could.”

  “Don’t ask me to do that,” she replied. “I can’t think about that when those men are suffering all around me, and more may fight and die the next time those things attack. You could die, too, and if I let myself feel anything for you, losing you would break me. I can’t let that happen.”

  He stepped away. “I’ll no trouble ye aboot’t again, lassie. Ye ken ye own me heart, and that’s enough until I make ye mine fer good’n all.”

  “Don’t even talk about that after what I just did to Christie. I can’t think like that with this going on.”

  “Ye’ve naught tae worry aboot Christie nor any other mon on that floor,” he replied. “Do ye ken he credits ye wi’ savin’ his life?”

  She stopped to look up at him. “He does?”

  Lachlan nodded. “Ye ha’e no stopped carin’ fer him and all the others since you came onto our land. Ye care fer more than their bodies. E’eryone can see it, meself no the least.”

  She blushed. “I didn’t do anything. I only did what anybody else would do.”

  “Anybody else wouldnae do it, because anybody else isnae ’ere tae do it. Ye are, and ye’re doin’ it. Ye’re one o’ us, lass, and ye’ve won me heart like no other.”

  Chapter 4

  Callum and Jamie studied the country around the Tower House, but they dared not approach it. “How is’t possible?” Jamie murmured.

  “It isnae,” Callum replied. “If we journeyed east from Urlu tae ’ere, we would ha’e been travelin’ o’er open sea. We couldnae travel ’ere from Urlu o’er the country we crossed.”

  “How do ye explain it, then?” Jamie asked.

  “I dinnae explain it,” Callum replied. “We mun’ ha’e crossed some boundary, the same way we did when we first entered Urlu. Do ye remember? Carmen thought at the time we had tae fight our way in. We mun’ ha’e crossed o’er on the way ’ere, and now we’re miles out o’ our way.”

  “What do we do aboot’t?” Jamie asked. “The McLeans are supposed tae be friends o’ the Camerons.”

  “They ha’e been our friends, and they ha’e been our enemies. We’re at peace wi’ ’em now, but we ha’e fought wars wi’ ’em more’n once. I dinnae like tae take me chances in there, but we ha’e no choice but tae cross their land. We’re on the Isle of Mull outside Loch Linnhe. We mun’ find a way tae cross the loch tae reach our own land.”

  At that moment, a flash of light caught the sun’s rays and reflected over the field. The Tower House’s high door swung open, and a line of men emerged. They set off across the field heading straight for the brothers.

  “What do we do now?” Jamie whispered.

  “Stand yer ground,” Callum murmured back. “We cinnae fight ’em wi’ our weapons withoot sparkin’ another war atween our Clans. We mun talk tae ’em and hope they mean us no mischief.”

  “And if they do mean us mischief?” Jamie asked. “What then?”

  Callum had no time to answer. The strangers came nearer. They spread out in a line. The closer they came, the more detail of their appearances Callum noticed. His heart raced, but he kept his exterior smooth and composed.

  “We’re ainly twa,” he muttered to Jamie. “We’ll no harm ’em. They mun’ ken’t themselves.”

  Jamie drifted an inch closer to him.

  “Dinnae touch yer weapon fer naught,” Callum whispered. “Stay calm and show no fear. Make no move. Let ’em take charge. We’re on their land, after all.”

  The strange men stopped a few paces away. They arranged themselves in a curved line around the newcomers. Callum eyed them one by one. Most wore the McLean tartan, so he and Jamie must be on McLean land. That would put them west of Cameron land by…. he didn’t like to think how far.

  The three other men wore Montgomery tartan. He sized them up for battle in case they attacked. None of them was too much bigger than he was, although that bright-haired man in the middle surveyed Callum back with the same unflinching confidence.

  Callum measured his shoulder span under his shirt. He didn’t like the idea of facing that man in an open skirmish if it came to that. To his surprise, the man walked right up to him and jerked his chin at Callum. “Callum Cameron, if I dinnae miss me guess. Am I right?”

  Callum started. “Do I ken ye?”

  “I ha’e no seen ye since ye were a wee laddie runnin’ ’round yer brothers’ knees,” the man replied, “but I had recognized ye anywhere. Ye’re the spittin’ image o’ yer faither. E’eryone said it was yer brother Rob as looked like him, but I allus said ye were the one that inherited his spirit. Ye’re welcome ’ere, and this’d be yer younger brother Jamie. Am I right?”

  Callum stared at the man. “Ye’re right, and ye ha’e me at a disadvantage, since I dinnae remember the like o’ ye.”

  “I’m Lachlan McLean. We met ainly once at yer faither’s house, but ye didnae remark me. I was too much aulder than ye and kept tae the grown men while ye played wi’ yer other brother…. what’s his name?”

  “Fergus,” Callum replied.

  “Aye, that’s it. Fergus. Weel, now ye ken’t, ye’ll come inside and share a meal fer the night, at least. What brings ye out ’ere at this time o’ night? Ye’re lucky it was me as spotted ye from the roof, or these lads would ha’e tumbled out and cut ye down withoot askin’ questions.”

  “Do ye attack any mon as enters yer lands?” Callum asked. “We’re no threat tae ye in that fortress o’ yers.”

  To his surprise, Lachlan didn’t flare with anger at the remar
k. He only gave Callum a sad smile. “We’re under attack just now. Anyone or anything that comes into our land we tumble out tae meet, no matter if it’s a single mon collecting sticks tae build a fire or an army from o’er the Isles tae wipe us out.”

  “Wipe you out?” Callum gasped. “What’s the meanin’ o’ that?”

  Lachlan nodded toward the castle. “Come inside, and I’ll tell ye all. This is no place for a mon on a cold night, and the sun’s half gone. Come inside and accept me hospitality.”

  Callum stayed where he was. “What’re these doin’ ’ere, anyway?”

  Lachlan followed his gaze to remark the three Montgomerys. “These? They’re our cousins, and right glad we are tae ha’e ’em. We’d all be dead now, withoot the Montgomerys.”

  “They’re mercenaries,” Callum shot back. “They dinnae belaing in this country.”

  “Mercenaries they may be,” Lachlan replied. “Fifteen o’ ’em came tae visit me faither on Clan business. In the middle o’ their conference came the first attack. Me faither met his death and left me Chief and Laird o’ the Isles and Laird o’ Duart across the Isle. The Montgomerys fought and died wi’ us in the battle. They’ve been stuck ’ere e’er since, and I’ll no betray their loyalty if they happen tae be mercenaries intae the bargain. I’m right glad fer any sword hand I can find, includin’ yers, Callum Cameron.”

  Callum wilted. “If ye’re knee deep in this war, perhaps we’d best be movin’ on. Wi’ yer permission, we’ll cross yer land and up the loch tae our own place. We’ll no bother ye.”

  “Ye’ll no cross our land withoot stayin’ the night wi’ us ’ere,” Lachlan replied. “Ye’re on yer way past our door, and the stars’re out now. Come inside, I say, and dinnae insult me hospitality by turnin’ away at the very threshold.”

  Callum’s eyes shot to his face, but Lachlan only smiled at him. Nothing about these men suggested any danger. The battles between the Camerons and the McLeans happened so long in the past no one could remember them. Hadn’t their Clans been friends ever since?

  “Awright,” he replied. “We’re grateful fer yer hospitality and yer safe passage.”

  Lachlan stood back and made room for Callum and Jamie to join their party. The other men formed their line around the Camerons, and the whole group walked shoulder to shoulder back to the castle.

  Callum jumped when the big entrance door clanged shut behind him. He spun around and stared, but it was too late. He was trapped inside another Clan’s Tower House. He was at Lachlan’s mercy if the young Laird decided to turn against him.

  Lachlan didn’t turn against him, though. He waved his hand toward a staircase. “Come alaing. Supper waits fer no mon around ’ere.”

  Callum studied his surroundings. “Where’re all yer people? There’s no one ’ere but us.”

  “They stay upstairs,” Lachlan replied. “It’s no safe fer ’em down ’ere, and they’re more easily defended in case of attack.”

  “Who’s yer enemy?” Callum asked. “I dinnae ken any Clan the McLeans ha’e fought against except…” The words died on his lips.

  “Ye dinnae ha’e tae worry aboot that,” Lachlan replied. “If our Clans fought in the past, let it stay in the past. We ha’e no fight wi’ any Clan at the present.”

  “Then who are ye fightin’?” Callum asked.

  Lachlan didn’t answer. He climbed up the stairs. One of the other McLeans followed him. The rest waited for Callum and Jamie to ascend before they brought up the rear.

  Lachlan exited the stairway into a large passage. Fragrant roast mutton and pungent turnips perfumed the place and set Callum’s mouth watering. The men started down the passage when blood-curdling screams ripped through a side door.

  Callum spun around, ready for anything. Lachlan paused at his side. “It’s naught but the wounded. Ye’ll see plenty o’ that if ye spend any time at all around ’ere. If there’s one thing we ha’e plenty on, it’s wounded.”

  He strode over to the open doorway, and the whole party peered inside. Callum’s blood ran cold at what he saw. Bodies of kilted men lay packed all over the floor. The room stank of old, rotten blood, filthy bandages, and festering flesh. Blood-soaked bandages covered some body part on every man on that floor. Some writhed in pain. Others lay still.

  A grey-haired woman worked over a steaming cauldron of soup in a corner of the room. She dished the food into bowls and plates and even clay mugs. She handed them to two young girls, who passed them out to the wounded.

  Only one other person moved around the room. A tall, shapely woman in a long plain dress worked among the wounded. Blood and grime smudged her white apron. Her straight brown hair twisted in a tight knot behind her head.

  She walked from one man to the next. She checked their bandages, stroked their foreheads, and murmured soft words into their ears. She held their hands and even caressed their cheeks and kissed them on the foreheads.

  Callum watched her entranced. Every man turned his eyes up to this woman’s face. Some watched her approach in obvious anticipation of her attention and her comfort. She cast a beautiful comforting halo of divine protection over the ghastly scene.

  At that moment, she happened to glance up, and her eyes met Callum’s. The two stared at each other for an instant, an instant long enough to change Callum’s life. He never saw a woman like her. A divine light shone around her head. It surrounded her and everything she did in irresistible beauty.

  Callum fought to find his voice, but he dared not speak above a murmur for fear of disturbing her angelic mission. “Who is that? Is that lass McLean?”

  “She’s a stranger,” Lachlan replied. “We dinnae ken tae which Clan she belaings, or if she belaings to no Clan at all. She tends the wounded. That’s all I can tell ye aboot her, but she’s no McLean. She’s no stopped workin’ since this whole thing started.”

  Callum faced him. “Ye’d better go alaing and tell me what this is all aboot. Who has done this tae yer Clan?”

  Lachlan waved down the passage. “Come, and I’ll tell ye.”

  Lachlan conducted the Cameron brothers to a different room. Long tables stretched from one end to the other, but no one sat at them. Callum’s heels rang on the stone floor. Not even a fire burned in the fireplace.

  As soon as the men entered, the grey-haired cook from the other hall entered. She and the two girls lugged the stew pot and set it down on the hearth. The woman served food to the men, one after another.

  Callum took his bowl and cradled it in both hands. The steam drifted into his nostrils. He could down the whole bowl in one gulp, but he waited so he could savor the delicious aroma. He craved the food he usually ate in Urlu. His heart contracted when he thought of his brothers and their wives far away. He would give anything to be back there right now instead of here in this disaster zone.

  As soon as the women served Callum and his companions, Lachlan and the others moved away from the tables. They gathered around the window at the far end of the room. The next instant, men started pouring into the room. Their weapons rattled. They shouted orders to each other, and rough conversation bantered around the room.

  They collected their meal from the cook and left without hanging around. Callum listened to their hasty talk about defenses and supplies and the surrounding territory. In all their gruff remarks, he never heard one person laugh. They barely smiled before they rushed off somewhere. In a few minutes, not one of them remained but Lachlan and his party.

  Chapter 5

  Lachlan pulled out a chair from the empty table. “Ye might as weel sit down and eat. Ye ne’er ken when ye’ll get another meal around ’ere.”

  Callum studied his companions. Lachlan sipped his broth in an attitude of complete relaxation, but the other McLeans and the Montgomerys swallowed their food in wolfish gulps. In a few seconds, they polished off their food.

  They stood around at loose ends until Lachlan waved his hand to them. “Gang ye up tae the roof and take yer orders from Carson. I’ll be up afore
laing tae get his report. If need be, ye can come back wi’ me.”

  The others left the room, all but one sturdy McLean with strapping shoulders and tree trunk thighs. He stood behind Lachlan’s chair and glared at the newcomers.

  “This is me brother—me other brother,” Lachlan told them. “I ha’e four o’ ’em—Carson, Christie, and this is Arch. We used tae call him Archie when he was a wee lad, but he doesnae take too kindly tae that these days, so we ha’e done wi’ callin’ him Arch, and so may ye.”

  Callum brought his bowl up to his nose, but he still didn’t take a sip. Something in this whole situation set his nerves on end. The horrible scene in the other room spoke of some catastrophe that struck this Clan so near to his own. Even the woman tending the wounded robbed him of any peace of mind.

  What was going on here? Not even Lachlan’s nonchalance could put Callum at ease. Everyone in this castle lived on tenterhooks, just waiting for the next attack. The Laird and Clan Chief could lounge in a chair and sip his soup while the rest of them readied to meet their ends on the battlefield. Even stout Arch McLean told Callum all he needed to know about this dreadful situation.

  “Ye mun’ sit ye down,” Lachlan was saying. “Ye’re making me nervous standin’ there, and ye’ve no touched yer food. What’s the matter wi’ ye both?”

  Callum glanced at Jamie. Jamie hadn’t taken a sip of his soup, either. Callum shook himself out of his reverie. He could never throw this man’s hospitality back in his face, especially now that he understood the situation. What must it have cost this Clan to take in a stranger on what must be the eve of a battle to the death?

  Callum scooted out a chair and sat down. He set his bowl on the table and waited for Lachlan to unburden himself. Jamie sat down, too. He put his bowl in front of him as though he intended to start eating, but he didn’t touch it, either.