The flicker of lantern light at Stackie's abandoned byre beside the trail caught his eye. He drew up. "Someone is in the byre up ahead. It could be a crofter, or it could be an ambush." He dismounted. "Come. Let's slip up on them."
The other men dismounted, drew their swords and followed him. Leaving their lantern behind, and two men to guard the horses, they crept the rest of the way by the moody light of the moon, the frost crunching and crackling beneath their boots.
They slipped in behind the byre and along the side as silently as possible. Hearing rumbling voices inside, Dirk paused to listen but could make out none of their words.
"Do you think 'tis Haldane?" Rebbie whispered.
"Likely."
When one of Haldane's friends rounded the corner alone, they knew the truth of it. Dirk knocked him on the head with the hilt of his sword. He gave a low cry and crumpled to the ground.
"Bind him," Dirk whispered, sheathing his sword.
He hoped the noise didn't alert the rest of the group. When he heard raised voices coming from inside, he figured they hadn't been paying attention.
Rebbie dragged the man behind the stone building.
The arguing continued inside the byre, then a yell cut them off. Haldane, trying to be bossy and commanding. How did they expect to ambush anyone if they were that boisterous? Or maybe it wasn't an ambush after all. Mayhap they were simply having a meeting. Either way, they were likely up to no good.
Haldane and some of his friends were in that youthful, awkward stage between a lad and man. Most of them were tall and strong but had more cockiness than sense. They'd take foolish risks a grown man wouldn't take. They were dangerous, both to others and themselves.
Dirk waited in the shadows at the side of the building where the moonlight didn't reach him.
Another youth popped his head around the corner. "Finlay? Where the devil are you?"
Come a wee bit closer.
Dirk almost grinned when the young man drew his sword and crept forward. Dirk leapt from the shadows, grabbed his opponent's sword wrist and clapped his hand over his mouth.
"Be quiet or you'll regret it," Dirk growled next to his ear. Easily subduing the skinny lad, he dragged him behind the building. "I need a rope and a gag," Dirk whispered to Rebbie.
"'Tis time to put a stop to this," Keegan muttered once both the young troublemakers were trussed up like pigs.
"What's your plan?" Dirk asked.
"I'm going to ask Haldane what the hell he's about. You two stay here."
"Nay, I'd never let you handle this alone," Dirk said.
Keegan was much closer to Haldane than Dirk, having been with him all these years, so maybe he could get through to him. But Dirk still wanted to protect his cousin. Haldane was unpredictable and unscrupulous, especially when he was doing his mother's bidding.
Dirk's party crept around the side of the small stone building.
"You men, wait out here," Dirk told Erskine and the others.
Dirk, Keegan and Rebbie walked into the ruined byre and the five arguing men inside dropped silent and turned. A lantern sat to the side, illuminating each face.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Haldane asked, glaring at Dirk.
"I'm wondering the same thing about you, brother."
"Where are Finlay and Ross?" Haldane demanded.
"They're safe," Keegan said. "What are you lads doing here in this abandoned byre?"
"'Tis none of your concern what I do."
"As chief of this clan, I find 'tis my concern," Dirk said.
"You're only the chief as long as you can stay alive." Smirking, Haldane withdrew his sword. His four friends followed suit, assuming the guard stance.
Damnation, he wished Haldane was not his brother; he would beat some sense into him. Dirk couldn't harm family… at least he hoped he didn't have to. He remembered Haldane when he'd been a wee lad. But Dirk could toss his daft arse into the dungeon and teach him a lesson.
"Put the sword away," Dirk said in a reasonable tone, his own sword still in the scabbard. His brother was so inexperienced that he didn't know this space was too confined to use a broadsword effectively. A dagger or dirk would be far more useful if you truly wanted to kill someone.
"Nay," Haldane growled. "Let's have this out once and for all."
"I have several men outside waiting. You're outnumbered." Dirk crossed his arms over his chest.
"I can still kill you." With a rush forward, Haldane charged him, his sword tip pointed at Dirk's chest.
Dirk stepped aside and grabbed his brother's sword arm. Although the lad was strong and slightly brawny, his strength couldn't compare to Dirk's. He squeezed Haldane's wrist near hard enough to break it. The lad cried out and dropped his weapon. Maneuvering quickly, Dirk restrained Haldane's arms behind his back and shoved his face against the stone wall.
Steel blades clanged as the other men moved the skirmish outside for more room. Damnation, 'twas too dark for a battle now.
"Listen to me, you little bastard," Dirk growled next to Haldane's ear while yanking one arm up harder. "Doing your mother's bidding will get you killed. She's a treacherous bitch and a murderess. I'm taking her down. If you're hanging onto her skirt-tails like a wee bairn, you'll go down with her. You want to be a man, act like one."
Haldane squirmed, cursed and jerked about, trying to free himself, but Dirk held him fast.
"Who were you planning to meet at the tavern?" Dirk asked.
"You think I'm telling you?"
Retaining a hold on his wrists, Dirk shoved him outside in search of a rope to tie him up. One of Haldane's men, in truth one of Maighread's younger guards, lay on the ground, unmoving, blood staining the side of his face.
"What the hell happened to him?" Haldane yelled.
"Knocked out," Keegan said. "Hope he wakes up. If not, it's on your head. That's what happens when you provoke a skirmish. You should be ashamed, fighting amongst your own clan. Your father would be disappointed in you."
"This bastard is not part of my clan." Haldane jerked his head toward Dirk.
The rest of Haldane's men were captured and disarmed. Rebbie stood with his foot planted on the back of one of them, a sword in each hand. The lad squirmed and turned his head about, trying to grab Rebbie's ankle. Smiling, he pressed down harder and the lad snarled.
"Let's tie them all up. They're going into the dungeon," Dirk said.
"I'll be damned if I'm going into any dungeon." Haldane flung himself toward the ground. Twisting and turning, he yanked himself from Dirk's grip. Dirk attempted to grab hold of him again, but Haldane, with his smaller body, was quicker. He launched himself at Rebbie who dodged out of the way. The lad who'd been beneath his boot leapt to his feet and sprinted after Haldane. They both raced toward a grove of bushes.
"Cowards!" Dirk yelled. He needed to chase them down and capture them, especially Haldane. But in this darkness, they'd be difficult to find in the thicket. Although they had no swords, they likely still had their knives. They could easily hide and leap out on anyone who went into the bushes after them.
Dragging the skinny lad named Ross to his feet and untying the gag, Dirk grabbed his hair. "Who was Haldane planning to meet at the tavern?"
"I'm telling you naught, you bastard!"
"How old are you?" Dirk asked for he acted like a spoiled bairn.
"Eighteen summers."
Dirk nodded. "I'm thinking your da will take a horse whip to your sorry hide when he finds out what you've been doing. Opposing the clan chief is the same as treason. You'd best be telling me what I want to know. I can keep you in the dungeon as long as I want. Months. Years. It matters not to me."
"Kiss my arse! You're not our chief."
Fury rushed through Dirk's veins. He wanted to slap the lad to the ground, but given that Dirk outweighed him by ten stone, such a violent action would make him no better than his stepmother.
"You are no longer a member of this clan," Dirk said with cold finality.
If Ross wasn't loyal, Dirk didn't want him around causing trouble.
"You can't do that," Ross said in an unsure tone.
"I just did. If I ever decide to release you from the dungeon, you'll have to leave MacKay lands and never come back."
"This is my home!"
"What do you think happens when men are not loyal to their chief?"
The lad merely stared at him wide-eyed.
"I can't trust you. You'll likely stab me in the back."
"Very well," Ross ground out as if someone were forcing the words from his mouth. "Haldane was meeting no one. 'Twas supposed to be an ambush."
To hear his suspicions confirmed sent fury raging through Dirk's veins. "Haldane was planning to kill me here?"
"Aye."
"Why?" Dirk demanded, even though he already knew.
"His mother said he had to do it."
"Of course." That bitch! Dirk had expected nothing less. "Who shot the arrow at me on the roof?"
"Haldane saw you up there when we were heading out here. He said you were acting like king of the castle and should be taken down. He ordered Gil to shoot the arrow while the rest of us hid behind the kirk wall."
"Who's Gil?" Dirk demanded.
"The lad who ran away with Haldane."
Damnation. Dirk would've especially loved to have captured him. "I thank you for telling me."
"I spoke the truth. Will you allow me to stay now? I don't wish to leave the clan."
"That depends on how loyal you are to me. I'll tolerate no empty words. You think on it a while, then decide what kind of man you want to be."
Ross hung his head.
"Let's get these traitors back to the dungeon," Dirk said. "Walk," he ordered Ross.
The lad stumbled forward and glanced back, more fearful now. He well knew a man without a clan was vulnerable indeed, but Dirk could tolerate no disloyalty.
The two men who'd been knocked out were carried and tossed across the horses' backs. The rest were bound and forced to walk forward. The lads were not boasting so much now. Likely, none of them had ever spent time in a dungeon, and mayhap they were a little afraid.
Dirk led his horse and made Ross walk ahead of him while he held the rope binding his wrists.
A few minutes later, they entered Dunnakeil's gates, the guards there surprised to see the prisoners from their own clan, some of them sons of respected clan members. The lads would have to be taught a lesson if they were ever to be loyal and trusted members of the clan. Maybe they never would be. If not, he'd have to send them all away.
Dirk spoke to the front gate guards. "Don't allow Haldane or his young friend Gil inside the gates. They are traitors who shot at me and then started up a skirmish in the byre. If you see them, capture them. Tell the rest of the guards."
One guard's brows lifted. "Aye, m'laird."
The dungeon contained plenty of cells with solid, well-maintained doors. Dirk made sure every last one of Haldane's party was locked in an isolated cell, because he didn't want them talking and hatching more plans. He wanted them to think long and hard about their traitorous actions, attacking their chief and his party. Men had been executed for less. Dirk didn't plan on doing anything so drastic, but he would never be able to trust the backstabbers. He was glad to be finding out exactly who in the clan he could trust.
Now he had to deal with his murderous stepmother.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maighread watched Dirk and his armed cohorts enter the great hall. Supper had been held until the chief returned… that alone made her grind her teeth.
She narrowed her eyes at the arrogant bastard. His hair windblown, he wore armor and carried his helm. Where was Haldane? Was he injured? Had he and his men bungled the ambush she'd so carefully set up? She knew Aiden had been listening when she'd told Haldane to meet the man at the tavern. In truth, there was no man and no meeting. Haldane and his men, along with one of her own guards, were to surprise Dirk and his friends and kill them. Or at least kill Dirk, but he was not even injured, nor were any of the men with him. Frustrated rage burned through her veins. What the devil had happened?
"Where is Haldane?" Maighread murmured to Aiden, who stood nearby.
"How would I know? I've been here all night."
"Don't be impertinent with me, young man."
"Pray pardon, Mother, but I don't ken where he is." He moved away from her. How could he be so rude and ungrateful? Did he not know she did all this for him?
Listening closely, she understood some of the men's words. They mentioned a failed ambush and that several prisoners had been taken to the dungeon.
Damn him. Had he thrown Haldane into the dungeon? She charged across the great hall, wishing she had a small dagger to slip between his ribs.
"Where is my son?" she demanded.
"Aiden is there." Dirk pointed. "I know not where Haldane is."
"Liar!" She clenched her fists so she wouldn't go flying at Dirk and claw his eyes out. Never had she hated another human being so much.
He smirked, which only deepened her loathing and fury.
"If you hurt my son, you will pay dearly for it."
"Why would I hurt my own brother? What would he do to provoke me? A dire task you sent him to do perhaps?"
The hall was silent, all eyes on her.
He was trying to con her into revealing her scheme. She was not as witless as he believed. "I did no such thing."
"Haldane first ordered one of his friends to fire an arrow at me. Then, Haldane charged me with a sword," Dirk said. "Trying to kill the chief makes him a traitor to the clan."
Maighread's breath froze in her chest. If he'd killed her son… "What did you do with him?"
"He ran away into the bush like the wee coward he is. He is not a man. Don't send him to do a man's job."
"You bastard," she hissed.
He gave her a sinister grin. "Take her to her chamber and do not allow her to leave it," he told one of the guards beside him.
"What? Are you mad?" Maighread demanded.
"Nay, I'm completely sane and very aware that you will stop at nothing to try to kill me." His eerie pale blue gaze was sharp as a dagger, stabbing toward her.
She hadn't been careful enough, and she'd underestimated him. "I would never try to kill you," she said in what she hoped was an innocent tone.
Dirk snorted.
She ached to slap his smug face like she used to when he was a lad. But he was so much taller now, his shoulders and arms like tree limbs.
"Nevertheless, you are under house arrest, Stepmother," he said. "Only Da's memory and Aiden keep me from tossing you into the dungeon with your minions where you belong."
Her whole body stiffened with the overpowering need to choke him, to bash his head in with a heavy object. The sheathed, foot-long dirk on his belt tempted her to grab it and stab him in the heart. 'Twould be fitting that he be killed with the weapon he had been named after.
But she could do naught. He was now twice her size and could easily crush her with his huge fist.
"M'lady," the guard motioned toward the stairwell. She had no choice but to do as they ordered now, but she was far from finished with Dirk. He would regret making a fool of her before the entire clan.
***
Hearing hushed voices echoing in the dim corridor, Isobel paused before rounding the corner. Since Dirk had imprisoned Maighread in her own bedchamber three nights ago, Isobel had kept an ear out for others who might be planning to help her escape or do something to hurt Dirk.
Peering silently around the corner, Isobel saw two young maids standing outside Dirk's bedchamber. No guard stood there. She'd noticed he was sometimes without his guards inside the castle since he'd confined Maighread to her room and Haldane was somewhere beyond the walls.
What in blazes were the two maids discussing?
"You do it," one servant said.
"Nay, you. I'm not going in there," the other lass said in a loud whisper.
"If he wa
s wee Aiden, I wouldn't mind so much. But I'm afraid of him."
"You think I'm not?"
"He is the chief, you imbecilic hare. You can't disobey him."
"I ken it. But I'd rather be fired than raped."
Raped? Did they think Dirk would rape them? If so, they had seriously misjudged him.
Isobel stepped out of the shadows. "What are you arguing about?"
"Oh, m'lady." One of the maids covered her mouth, and the other's eyes near popped out of her head. "I didn't see you standing there."
"What is the disagreement about?"
Both remained tight-lipped.
"Chief Dirk MacKay?" she guessed.
One gave a sheepish nod. "We don't wish to lose our jobs, m'lady," she whispered, beseeching her with a pitiful expression.
"Why would you?"
"He is bathing and requires a maid to wash his back. And… well…" She compressed her lips tightly between her teeth.
"Ah. I see." An enticing image of his brawny muscular body sprawled in a wooden tub teased Isobel's imagination. "There is naught to fear from Dirk MacKay. He's a good man and a good chief. I'll wash his back."
"Oh. You will?" The maids' faces fairly glowed with relief.
"Aye. Don't be gossiping and telling anyone I volunteered for the task, and I won't tell Chief MacKay you were shirking your duties."
"Oh, nay, m'lady." They both shook their heads dramatically. "We'll not say a word."
"If I find out you did…" she warned.
"We promise. Our lips are sealed tight." They both trotted away as if hungry wolves chased at their heels.
Ninnies. Surely helping the chief bathe was a job best suited to a lady and a widow anyway. She'd helped her former husband bathe a few times. Dirk had kept himself busy for the past three days, and she'd hardly seen him. She was starting to wonder if he was avoiding her.
Isobel knocked at the door to the chief's chamber.
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