“Is there nothing we can do for him?” Slain asked.
“You know from what you have seen in battle that once a deep sleep claims someone, there is nothing we can do but wait, and pray. I will keep vigil at his side, but beyond that—” she shook her head.
Slain waited until Neata took her leave to say, “You need to eat so you can stay strong for Conlan and Melvin.”
Knots twists in her stomach so badly that it revolted at the thought of food. “It is my fault they suffer. I should have returned home and faced whatever fate awaited me.”
“Do not even think such nonsense,” Slain said, taking hold of his wife’s hand and finding it chilled, tucked it inside his shirt against his warm naked chest. “Melvin had made his decision before your arrival and Conlan helped Potsman because he is an honorable lad. This is not on your shoulders. This is your father’s weight to bear and your step-brother’s. And this trouble between our clans has been long in the making. It is time to bring it to an end.”
It pained her heart to ask, “You will kill my father?”
It troubled him to speak the truth to her, but he would have it no other way. “If he leaves me no choice. As for your step-brother… I will see him dead, not only for what he did to my father, but for what he did to you.”
“I care not what happens to Nial, and I do not know why I should care what happens to my father. He cares nothing for me.”
Slain brushed a delicate kiss on her cheek. “Whether good or bad, he is your father. Now eat.” He handed her another piece of bread.
Hannah went to nibble at it while Slain reached for a piece for himself and stopped. “There is a secret passage in the east wing, is there not?” She nodded, answering it herself. “Of course there is. The east wing is how those who help you come and go. That is why a light is seen in the east wing and the villagers believe it is haunted. You meet with people, who must not be seen, and you come and go from there when you want no one to know what you are up to. That is how Melvin found his way to our bedchamber. He has been through that area before and knows the way.” Her eyes spread wide, a realization striking her. “It was not a dream that night. You snatched me up after I hit my head on the door and carried me to bed. You were returning from somewhere you wanted no one to know about. Who else comes and goes so freely in our home?” she asked and her eyes widened again, though this time with fear. “Roark knows of it. You spoke with him there. Does Warrick know?” She shivered, just thinking that the dreadful man could enter the keep at will.
“Warrick always makes his arrival known.”
Hannah stared at her husband, her heart pounding in her chest. “You plan just as my father plans. Only you have made it seem that you and your clan are vulnerable. That you have no warriors, no way of protecting yourself so that a trap could be set. When my father attacks, you will unleash your warriors.” She stared in silence at him for a brief moment. “Your warriors or Warrick’s warriors?”
“My warriors and some of Warrick’s,” Slain admitted, knowing it was useless to keep the truth from her.
“That is why Roark is here?” she asked. “He brought a troop of warriors to help you?”
Slain kept his voice low, not that there was anyone about to hear him. The brewing storm outside kept the villagers in their homes and Neata and Helice were busy with Melvin. Still, what he was about to tell her was for her ears alone. “I made a pact with Warrick.”
Hannah shivered. It was like making a pact with the devil.
“I needed help in repairing the damage my clan had suffered due to your step-brother deceiving my unwitting father. Without Warrick’s help my clan would have starved and lives would have been lost that winter. Your father was well aware that Warrick helped and it was the one reason he did not attack. He knew his warriors would suffer a dreadful defeat if he dared attack when Warrick’s men were here. It gave me time to strengthen my defenses and prepare my warriors.”
“That is where you go when you leave here?” Hannah asked.
“Aye, my warriors stay with a neighboring clan. The chief there fears your father and has offered his help so that his clan will remain safe from MacFillan. When Roark first arrived, the time you listened from the shadows, he was here to remind me that my debt was to be fully met if Warrick was to continue helping me.”
“The reason you wed me… to settle part of the debt.”
“I wed you because I fell hopelessly in love with you from the moment I saw you, though at the time I refused to believe it. The debt could have been settled easily since Warrick wanted me to wed the daughter of a clan to the north of your father.”
“Joining two clans that would be loyal to Warrick and essentially trapping my father between them.”
“You have a sharp wit, wife. From what Roark has told me, Warrick feels our union will prove beneficial once your father accepts it. If not…”
“He will be forced to,” Hannah said. “No wonder you have been slipping away and returning late, you have been busy planning.”
“And adapting to unexpected changes.”
“Me?” Hannah asked softly.
“Aye, you, wife,” Slain said and kissed her lips gently. “Much changed when you entered my life and for the better. Perhaps Warrick is right. Perhaps our unexpected union will prove beneficial for all and battle can be avoided.”
“I do not see how that will happen. My father is too hungry for power.” Sadness filled her eyes for a moment, then they suddenly brightened. “Show me this secret passageway so that I may use it if necessary.”
“No,” Slain snapped.
“Why not?” Hannah asked, drawing back away from her husband. “I know the secret now so why not make me aware of the passageway?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Then share them with me so I may understand,” she said perplexed by his refusal and annoyed that the Great Hall door suddenly opened, preventing Slain from responding.
Imus struggled against a strong wind to shut the door before he made his way to them. “We must speak. It is urgent.”
Slain nodded and stood. “You will remain inside today, the brewing storm no place for you to be.”
Hannah could not understand why he was so reluctant about showing her the secret passageway in the east wing. It could prove helpful to her one day or at least that was her excuse for satisfying her curiosity. And what was this other part of the debt that her husband refused to settle or discuss with her? And why did Slain not seemed concerned that it would stop Warrick from helping him?
Sitting there brooding would do her no good, she cleared off the table, then went to see how Conlan was doing or if he needed anything. The lad was sound asleep. She was pleased to see he was no longer pale and there was no stench of a rotting wound. His bedding looked fresh as did the nightshirt he wore and his hair looked to have been combed, not a single tangle in it.
Helice took excellent care of him and Hannah could not be more grateful, and now she was doing the same for Melvin.
Hannah left Conlan sleeping, stopped by the closed solar doors to hear her husband and Imus’ muffled voices, then made her way upstairs to see if she could be of any help to Helice and Neata.
The two women were talking quietly when she entered the room and she went to them.
“Can I be of help?” she asked softly.
After only a few moments, Helice was headed to the kitchen to prepare a couple of brews that Conlan and Melvin would need and Neata left to gather more of her healing plants while Hannah remained to keep an eye on Melvin.
His pale face alarmed her as did the way he lay there so lifeless, not even making the slightest movement. His face was so badly bruised that he was unrecognizable. She prayed he would wake. Prayed he would survive. Prayed that whoever did this to him would be caught and punished.
Hannah almost jumped off the chair when his eyes suddenly sprang open and he struggled to speak. It was a good sign, and she leaned over him, wanting to offer encouragement a
nd hope. “You are doing well. You need rest and time to heal.”
Melvin continued to struggle to speak and Hannah hurried to scoop up the ladle in the bucket nearby and dribbled some of the water slowly into his mouth.
Melvin took it eagerly and once his lips were moist he managed to say, “All lies.” He winced in pain and once again his eyes drifted closed.
Hannah sat back in the chair frustrated. He was obviously trying to tell her something, and something important if he was willing to bear the pain it cost him, but what was it?
“We must talk, Hannah.”
Hannah jumped out of the chair and turned to see her husband standing in the doorway, his look solemn.
“Is Conlan all right? I just left him and he was fine,” Hannah said, rushing over to him.
“Conlan is doing well.”
“Then why do you wear such a solemn face?” A thought hit her and she gasped. “Is the attack imminent?”
His hand gently took her by the arm. “Come with me.”
Hannah’s heart began to beat wildly. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “What is it, Slain?”
They were about to enter their bedchamber when the bell sounded an alarm that penetrated the keep walls.
Hannah pulled away from her husband and ran to the stairs. “We must hurry.”
Slain grabbed her arm, stopping her before her foot hit the first steps. “Your father is dead.”
Chapter 31
Hannah stared at her husband, shaking her head. “How is that possible and how could you know this? He is on his way home.”
Slain had not wanted to deliver the news so bluntly, but he had little time and even less now knowing who had arrived. “I had men following your father. I thought he might not leave, but camp somewhere until his army could join him here and they could attack. It was what I would have done and your father thought the same. They camped not that far from here.”
“How?” she asked, shock more than sorrow sending a tremble through her.
“I do not know how he died only that he is dead, and I am sorry I had to tell you so directly, but that bell warns of your step-brother’s arrival and I wanted you aware of your father’s passing before you faced him.”
Hannah reached for her husband’s hand, needing his strength. “Then let us go and see what he has to say, though I fear it will be mostly lies we hear from him.”
Slain pressed a gentle hand to her cheek. “You are up to this?”
“As long as you are by my side.” She clutched his hand tighter. “Besides, I want to know what happened to my father. It might help me shed a tear for him since right now I have none.”
“I will not leave your side,” he assured her.
Hannah followed behind her husband, wondering what this would mean for her clan with her being her father’s only heir. Could peace finally exist between the Clan MacFillan and the Clan MacKewan? It certainly was not a legacy her father would have wanted to leave.
The villagers had formed a path to the keep as they had done before and once again they stood with weapons in hand prepared for whatever may come.
Hannah stood beside her husband, thinking it had been barely a full day that she last spoke with her father and now he was dead. It simply made no sense to her. All he had planned. All he had strived for gone in an instant. What could have happened?
Slain turned to his wife and gave her hand a squeeze. “I am here with you. You are not alone.”
It hit her then. Her mum and da were both gone, if not for Slain she would be alone. Or worse, she would be stuck with her step-brother.
“I love you, wife, and always will. We are family and we will share a good life together.”
He was letting her know that while she had lost one family, she had gained another, and he planned on having a long life with her. His strong message touched her heart and filled her with strength.
They both turned at the sound of approaching horses and there in the lead rode Nial. Behind him was her father’s body draped over his horse. Nial rode up to them, dismounted without a word, and went and tugged her father’s body off the horse to drop a short distance in front of Hannah.
“See what your husband has done to your father,” Nial accused, pointing at the bloodied body.
“Watch how you speak to my wife or you will lose your tongue,” Slain warned. “And I remind you only one more time, do not speak to Hannah without my permission.”
Hannah’s limbs turned weak upon staring at her father’s brutally beaten body and she fought to keep her composure, not giving her step-brother the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. It helped that her husband stood close and defended her, but she would have her say.
“My husband did no such thing and how dare you disrespect my father by dropping him on the ground like nothing more than a dead animal,” Hannah chided. “How did this happen with so many of his warriors around him?”
“He went into the woods alone and never came out. We searched for him and this was how we found him, pummeled so viciously that he is barely recognizable.”
Hannah thought of Melvin and how badly he had been beaten. Could the same person have beaten both men, the two beatings being so similar?
“You have brought shame on your clan and death to your father and I am here to tell you that I will revenge his death as the new chief of the Clan MacFillan,” Nial announced for all to hear.
“The chief of a clan is not a position you can appoint yourself to,” Slain reminded. “If there is no heir than the clansmen decide who will be the new chief of a clan,” Slain said.
A sneer of a smile spread across Nial’s face. “But there is an heir.”
“Aye, Hannah is Ross MacFillan’s heir and since she is my wife that makes me Chief of the Clan MacKewan,” Slain informed him, though Nial’s sneer told him there was more to it than the man was saying.
Nial raised his chin. “I am no step-son to Ross MacFillan. I am his son. My mother gave MacFillan something her mother,” —he gave a nod at Hannah— “never could… a son. In time, my father intended to rightfully claim me as his heir, future chief of the Clan MacFillan. I now claim that right.”
“What proof do you have?’ Slain asked.
“A letter from my mother to Ross MacFillan telling him I am his son,” Nial said.
“That proves nothing but the rantings of a woman who looks to secure a future for her son,” Slain said.
Hannah listened as if from a distance as the two continued to exchange words. If this was true, why had her father not made mention of it when they talked? Why wait? Why not tell her that Nial would be chief? This could not be happening. It was a nightmare and she had yet to wake. It was not real. Not real. It was all lies.
All lies.
That was what Melvin had said to her. He knew something. Melvin knew something. Was that why he suffered a beating? Had Nial something to do with it? Had he tried to keep Melvin from telling the truth?
“Take your foolish rantings and leave my land,” Slain ordered.
“I will leave, but I will return and revenge my father’s death.”
“As I will revenge mine and it will not be a fast death I deliver upon you… I promise you that.”
Nial raised a fist, anger sparking in his eyes. “This land will be mine and my sister will suffer for the shame she has brought to her clan.”
“You tempt the savage and he will make you suffer far worse than I will. Now leave!”
Nial went to pick up Ross MacFillan’s body.
“Leave him! It is his daughter’s right, his heir’s right, to bury him,” Slain ordered.
“He is my father,” Nial said, his fist pounding his chest.
“That has yet to be proven,” Slain said.
“He needs to be buried on MacFillan soil,” Nail argued.
“Ross MacFillan was willing to fight for this land. It is only fitting that at least in death he gets to claim a small spot of it.”
“You dishonor your father like this
?” Nail said, turning to Hannah.
Hannah agreed with her husband. “I give my father what he always wanted, a piece of MacKewan land,”
“You will rue this day, both of you,” Nail said, his face pinched in anger.
“Be gone!” Slain commanded with a sharp tongue and dismissed him with a quick snap of his hand as if he did nothing more than swat away an annoying gnat.
Nial mounted and rode off, the first drop of rain falling on his angry red face.
“We need to get your father out of the rain and prepared for burial,” Slain said and a few men stepped forward at his command.
Blair approached of her own accord. “Some of the other women and I will prepare him for you.”
“I should do it,” Hannah said, though did not know if she wanted to. With her mum, it had been different. She had wanted to help the women prepare her for her final resting place. She had selfishly wanted as much time with her mum before she was laid to rest, never to see her again. Her father not so much. He had no time for her while alive and she felt no need to spare him any time now.
“Conlan and Melvin need you more,” Slain said. “Let Blair see to it.”
Hannah did not argue. She cast one last look at her father and turned to enter the keep. A chill had crept into her bones and she walked over to the fireplace and stood in front of it, rubbing her arms to warm herself. She tried to call on some good memories of her father, but she could find none. She had been a disappointment to him since the day she was born. He never loved her.
A tear dropped from her eye and splattered on the hearth. Why cry for a man who cared nothing for her? It was not the man she cried for, but what he had failed to be for her… a da. Another teardrop fell, then another and another.
Strong hands took hold of her arms, turned her around, and powerful arms wrapped around her tight, her husband easing her close against him while she cried. She did not let herself cry long, sniffling the tears back as she looked up at him. “Wasted tears.”
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