“Forgive me for not knocking, my lord. ‘Tis your father. I’m afraid his time has come.”
Alex’s heart sank. He turned to Jamie. “Find Murdock.”
“Ye know that won’t be easy.”
“I don’t care. Just do it,” Alex shot back, already out the door.
He hastened down the hallway. The door to his father’s room was slightly ajar. Easing inside, he treaded softly to Callum MacKenzie’s bedside and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his brow.
With his emaciated frame swaddled in blankets, his father looked more like a child slipping away than a man about to meet his maker. Alex held his frail hand. At fifty-two, Callum was not an old man, but his broken soul had invited the sickness that ravaged his once strong frame. Alex knew his father had never stopped mourning the loss of his beloved Anna. Every day, every moment lived without her by his side had taken its toll, so too had the burden of their dwindling clan. Callum strained to lift his heavy lids. “Alex,” he whispered. “I leave ye nothin’ but heartache.”
“Wheest, Da.” Alex wiped his father’s burning brow with a damp cloth.
Someone rapped on the door. Alex willed Murdock to enter, but it was Jamie who slipped into the room. He motioned to the window. “The garrison spied Murdock riding this way.”
Alex crossed to the thick tapestry hanging in front of the high window and flung the heavy fabric back. He peered down just as a rider with long, black hair and massive shoulders thundered into the courtyard. Shaking his head, he marveled at Murdock’s timing. Somehow he always seemed to show up when Alex needed him most.
Jamie crossed to his side. “The prodigal son returns.”
*
The frozen earth refused to give way to Callum MacKenzie’s body. Instead, his soul would be carried to heaven in smoke that billowed and undulated in the wind. Alex stood on shore as was their custom while flames engulfed his father’s body
“I cannot bear this.” He stormed away from the gloomy water. Murdock followed close behind. “Ye knew his time was nigh,” Murdock said, his voice low and raspy.
Alex stopped and turned to face his brother. Like Alex, Murdock favored their mother in appearance with his black hair, which he wore very long past his shoulders. But Murdock did not have their mother’s mismatched eyes. His eyes had been a dark blue when he was young, but as he grew they lightened. Now, they were so light a blue they reminded Alex of crystals they used to hunt for when they were lads. Much to Alex’s regret, Murdock’s eyes were also just as cold and hard as those beautiful stones.
Once fun-loving and mischievous, the fire had changed him. He had retreated inwardly, becoming hard and aloof. But Alex believed everyone dealt with grief in their own way. He never called Murdock to task or lorded duty over his head. Still, Murdock grew darker and more troubled with each passing year. The most Alex could do was pray his brother found peace.
Alex cast his gaze to the ground. The last thing he wanted was to burden Murdock’s already tortured mind with more ill news. Still, he felt it was his right to know about Kendrick.
Alex took a deep breath. “Kendrick is gone.”
Murdock looked at him blankly, betraying no hint of emotion. Clearly, his brother had not understood his full meaning. “He’s missing. Jamie led the search but…” He could not bring himself to finish.
Still, Murdock’s face revealed none of the shock or anguish Alex had felt when he had first learned of their friend’s fate. Murdock had only shifted his gaze. Now, he stared impassively out to sea.
“The wolves have taken Kendrick.” Alex’s voice rose in frustration. “We don’t know whether he’s dead or alive.”
Raking his fingers repeatedly through his hair, he waited for his brother to react. Somehow Murdock kept silent. “God’s Blood,” Alex swore before tearing off down the rock strewn beach toward Midnight. He rested his forehead against the horse’s side. Damn Murdock and his unfeeling ways. It was no wonder Alex preferred the company of animals.
CHAPTER 3
Jamie inspected Alex’s freshly polished sword. “I ken where ye’re going?”
Alex paused but then he went right back to packing his saddlebags. None of the meager beasts in the small stables could hold a candle to the MacKenzie mounts of old, including Midnight, but those days were finished. And he was done mourning. What he wanted now was revenge. Revenge for his mother’s death. Revenge for his people’s livelihoods and those fine animals he had loved so well. Revenge for his father’s miserable end and for Aggie’s broken heart. The day of reckoning had come.
“Alex, I ken what is brewing in that brain of yours, but ye must stop and think through your actions before ye follow your father into the hereafter.”
Alex continued undeterred.
Jamie grabbed his arm, swinging him around. “Listen to me. Don’t be a fool.”
Alex glowered at him.
Jamie motioned to his horse. “What’s your plan? To ride into Daonnan Forest and singlehandedly take on an army of wolves. Ye’ll be torn to shreds and devoured before you clear the tree line.”
Alex leaned closer, anguish fueling his actions. “My father refused this fight, and I obeyed his command. But now I must live by my own conscience. I would raise a MacKenzie army if I could, but most of the men are too weak for war. So it comes down to me.”
Jamie stood his ground. “If ye weren’t so afraid, ye’d realize ye had another option.”
Alex shoved past him. “I’m not afraid to fight. I’m not afraid to die.”
“I ken ye’re not,” Jamie said. “I ken ye fear little in this world. But make no mistake, ye’re afraid—not of death—ye’re afraid of yourself, or of what ye’ve convinced yourself ye are.”
Alex folded his arms across his broad chest. “Is there a point to your rambling? I have my clan to avenge and a curse to lift.”
“If ye want to kill yourself that is between ye and our maker but not now. Ye’ve work to do. The task has fallen to ye to raise up our people, and I refuse to let a man as fine as ye shirk his duties.”
“They are only animals,” Alex snarled.
Jamie grew still. “Do ye really believe that?”
“I do not ken! All I ken is that they’ve taken Kendrick.” Alex swallowed the knot lodged in his throat. “He who never harmed a soul.”
Jamie clasped a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I would see them all slain, but ye, on your own, with or without the meager might of the MacKenzie, will not live to see that day. If ye truly wish to bring justice to past wrongs and rid this land of suffering, then ye must make an alliance.”
“How?” Alex yelled, shoving aside Jamie’s hand. “I’ve nothing to bring to an alliance. I’ve no warriors. I’ve land as far as the eye can see, but ‘tis cursed. What is it that ye want from me?”
Jamie started to answer but then stopped and trained his ear toward the gate. Someone was singing outside.
“’Tis Mary.” Jamie ducked into an empty stall. “Don’t tell her I’m in here.”
Mary peeked her head into the stables and smiled when she saw Alex. “Good morrow,” she said, but then her eyes dropped to the floor and then to the loft above their heads. She looked everywhere except at him. “Have ye seen Jamie at all this morning?”
Alex’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. “Ye might want to check the rectory. He mentioned wanting to speak to Father Gregor about taking the vows.”
Mary’s head jerked up. She looked Alex dead on. “But he can’t.” She stammered out an excuse to leave and darted from the stables.
Alex shook his head. “’Tis amazing. I’m the one they fear when ye’re the real threat to their virtue.”
“Ye’re an acquired taste,” Jamie said as he stood and shook bits of straw from his plaid.
“That’s exactly what ye said last evening about Cook’s burnt stew.”
“Then ye’re formidable.”
Alex snorted. “Aye, last I heard every maid was looking for a husband to fear.�
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“Indeed. Women long for excitement.” Jamie strode toward the stable gates. At the door, he turned back, looking Alex hard in the eye. “Don’t be a coward. Find a wife.” Then he left.
Alex stared after him. With a heavy heart, his gaze shifted back to his hungry horse weighed down by saddlebags. He shook his head and retreated backward until he felt the wood of the stable wall behind him. He slunk to the ground. His steel targ lay discarded at his feet. He stretched and took hold of the shield and did what he never did. He looked at his reflection. He turned his head to see his unaffected side. His green eye resembled his mother’s. His jaw was strong and his skin smooth. Slowly, he turned his head so that he was looking straight on. His blue eye stood out in stark contrast to the rough, red skin. With a curse, he threw the shield across the room. It hit the wall and clattered to the ground. He knew Jamie was right, but who would ever consent to marrying him?
*
A falcon flew overhead, returning to its home beyond the distant battlements of Dun Brae Castle, home to the chieftain of Clan Ross.
“This is a waste of time,” Alex said, flanked by Jamie and Murdock.
“On the contrary, ‘tis high time, and the right decision,” Jamie said.
Alex resisted the urge to punch the smug smile off of Jamie’s lips. Instead, he turned to his brother who had surprised Alex yesterday when they set out by waiting with his horse in the courtyard ready to ride.
“Ye’ve said little about our present mission,” Alex said as they passed into the Village Ross. Alex scanned the orderly thatched huts. People milled about, giving them a wide berth.
“Making an alliance would be very advantageous for our clan,” Murdock said, his voice flat.
Alex raised his eyes heavenward. “Thank ye, Murdock. As always ye’ve brought a great deal to the conversation. Next time, aim for brevity and allow others the chance to speak.”
Jamie chuckled. “Don’t mind him, Murdock. He’s just terrified at the prospect of talking to a woman.”
“We’re not here to find me a wife,” Alex snapped. “We’re going to persuade Ross to take up arms with the MacKenzie against the wolves.”
“Hold.” Murdock reined in his horse.
Without hesitation, Alex reached behind his back and drew his sword. Murdock had an uncanny ability to detect trouble. Alex’s eyes darted over the nearby villagers and homes, but he saw nothing that warranted an alarm.
After a moment, Murdock seemed to relax. “Carry on,” he said.
Alex replaced his sword and nudged Midnight forward, but he kept an eye fixed on his brother. Murdock still seemed distracted. They rode on. The outer wall of Dun Brae came into view, but just then Murdock shook his head, looking confused.
“I’m going to have a look around,” Murdock announced, riding off with no other explanation.
Alex scratched his jaw while he watched his brother’s departure.
“Must he always do that?” Jamie said.
“Do what?” Alex replied. “He’s just having a look around.”
“I wager not. He’s disappearing, just like he always does. And ye know as well as I that we might not see his stony face for weeks to come. We could have used his help today. I’ve never said this before, because he’s your blood. And I beg your forgiveness for saying so, but your brother is a selfish man.”
“Nay,” Alex said quietly. “He’s not selfish. He’s burdened.”
Jamie laughed outright. “Ye’re a more generous man than I. Ye, who alone carries the weight of a desperate clan on your shoulders, claim that Murdock is burdened. And by what, I ask ye?”
“Guilt,” Alex said.
“Guilt? But for what?”
Alex sighed. “I’ll tell ye, but ye must keep silent on the matter.”
Jamie nodded his agreement, and Alex knew his friend would honor his word. Jamie could be a cad when it came to women and an incessant nag, but Alex trusted no other so well as he.
“He blames himself for what happened the night of the fire.”
“How could he? He was a child,” Jamie said. Then his eyes widened. “For the love of God, please tell me he didn’t start the fire.”
“Nay, I’ve told ye before, I saw the torch fall. I watched the fire ignite and spread. Murdock was nowhere near the barn when it started, which is why he feels guilty. Father had sent him to fetch my mother and me from the stables, but he was waylaid by friends on the way and forgot.”
“Now I ken,” Jamie said. “Had Murdock listened to your father, then your mother and ye might have been spared.”
Alex nodded but kept his eyes forward. He hated to dwell on that night. All he could think of was how painful his mother’s end had been. It wrenched his heart and stole his breath. But as hard as it was for Alex, he knew Murdock spent each day crushed beneath the weight of two words: What if?
What if he had just gone straight to the barn? It was a horrible question to face each and every day. Nay, Alex did not envy Murdock his pain, nor did he blame him for his troubled ways. His brother had become very like the cursed land that surrounded them, dark and full of sadness. Mayhap, if Alex could find a way to change the fortune of their clan, Murdock might be able to forgive himself.
“’Tis just as well ye told me,” Jamie said. “I admit in the past I’ve judged Murdock harshly.”
Alex sat straighter in his saddle, squaring his shoulders. “’Tis all in the past. We must keep our eyes pointing forward. On to Dun Brae Castle.”
When they at last stood before the outer wall, the garrison called for them to halt.
“I am Alexander Callum Errol MacKenzie, Laird of the Clan MacKenzie. I request an audience with Laird Ross.”
“Ye must wait here,” the guard called down.
Jamie scowled. “Already Ross is disagreeable. He should at least let us wait within the courtyard.”
Alex shrugged. “He’s cautious, which is fine by me. We do not wish to make an alliance with a leader who is either too soft or easily fooled. If he is hard, that will only work in our favor.”
“Aye,” Jamie said. “But it also means he’ll not help us for nothing.”
“Let us not draw our own conclusions before an audience is even had,” Alex said, despite a gnawing feeling that something was not right about Dun Brae Castle. He remembered what Thomas had told him.
“What do we know of the laird?” Jamie said under his breath.
“Many years have passed since a MacKenzie has been in the great hall of Dun Brae. My father brought me here when the games were still held. Clan Ross has faired better than we these last years, though Thomas said they are not without hardship.”
“His wife and daughter are dead,” Jamie said. “If I remember, the details were rather horrific. I believe their carriage was attacked. And of course, there is his other daughter who no one has seen or heard tell of for years. I’ve heard the ladies in the village call her the Mad Maid of Clan Ross.”
Alex nodded. “So I’ve heard, although I don’t care for that name. I’ve never met Ross’s daughter. Still, she deserves our compassion.”
Jamie looked offended. “The Mad Maid of Clan Ross is a harmless enough nickname.”
Alex eyed his friend’s reddening face. “Ye made up the name when ye were gossiping with the ladies. Didn’t ye?”
The red traveled from Jamie’s face to his ears. “Where’s the harm in a little fun?”
Alex shook his head. “I dread to think of the names ye’ve invented for me.”
“Never,” Jamie said firmly.
Alex grinned. “I will not deny ye your fun. Anyway, back to business. Thomas said that Ross himself has become a recluse. Apparently, he expelled the servants from his keep. Of course, we cannot put faith in gossip alone. Hopefully, we will know the truth of things soon enough.”
Just then the garrison returned and ushered them through the inner wall where armed warriors waited to bring them to the stables. While the stable master led their horses away, promisin
g they would be fed and groomed, Alex surveyed the stalls. Although none of the horses compared to those formerly of the MacKenzies, they were fine animals. A lightness filled his heart while he considered the beasts. Perhaps, in time, he could purchase a new sire for breeding. It would take generations to reclaim the MacKenzie standard, but they had to start somewhere.
“Are ye ready?” Jamie asked absently while he too considered the Ross’s stock.
Not wishing his daydreams of a full stable to end, Alex did not reply straightaway. Then with a sigh he started toward the gate. “I’m ready. Let’s go make fools of ourselves.”
Jamie laughed. “My mum always says, ‘the greater fool is the man afraid to look foolish.’”
*
Fresh rushes covered the floor of the great hall of Dun Brae. Tapestries the like of which Alex had never seen lined the walls. The massive hearth behind the high dais, although cold, was swept clean. Everything appeared well-ordered, and yet something was gravely wrong. A stillness nagged at Alex, chipping away at his confidence in his host. Despite the general wellbeing Alex had witnessed within the bustling courtyard, he did not doubt that the shadow had indeed come to Clan Ross. But what form did it take? Why was the keep as barren and cold as an empty tomb?
“Come, Alexander MacKenzie.”
The voice had sounded from the high dais. They strode forward and found William, the laird of the keep, sitting composed in one of two high back chairs facing the cold hearth. He greeted them with a smile, but did not rise. Instead, he motioned for Alex to sit. His gaze passed over Alex’s face, but he displayed no outward response to his scars. William had tact, for which Alex was grateful.
“What is it that ye want of me?” William said without ceremony.
Alex could tell before he finished the speech he had prepared to win William’s support against the wolves that he would not receive his desired response. Ross was showing Alex every due respect by listening intently and nodding every now and then. Still, Alex knew when he was being placated. This evoked greater ardor in his voice as he tried to sway William’s thinking.
Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series Book 1) Page 3
