by Donna Grant
MacLachlan narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "I told your friend last night that if I wasn't told this morn what it was you were doing here, I would ask you to leave."
"Before we broke our fast?"
"If need be. I have been a patient man, but not any longer. I don't take kindly to having my family or clan threatened in any way," he stated.
MacNeil breathed in the Highland air. "You will find out soon. Tell me, when was the last time you spoke to your son?"
MacLachlan visibly blanched. "What has that to do with anything?"
"Quite a lot actually," The Shadow said as he walked out onto the tower.
MacLachlan's soldiers took a step closer to their laird. He dropped his arms and said, "My son … is … dead."
"Strange since he worked for me as a mercenary for awhile," MacNeil told Beathen and rejoiced when the old man's brow furrowed. "'Tis odd what banishment from one's clan can do to a man."
"What do you want?" MacLachlan demanded.
MacNeil stepped in front of the laird until he was almost nose-to-nose with him. "We are getting to that. I think you needs follow us."
To his surprise, MacLachlan and his two men followed willingly as he led them out of the castle to the bailey. Once there, he turned to look at MacLachlan. "You think you have taken precautions to protect your clan, to keep them safe from rogues and villains?"
"Aye," he answered. "Of course."
MacNeil laughed. "You failed," he said and pointed out the gates.
MacLachlan and his soldiers gasped at the sight of the MacNeil men racing toward them.
"You want to know what we want?" MacNeil asked him. "We want Gregor."
MacLachlan turned angry brown eyes toward him. "He's not here."
"He'll be here," The Shadow said. "I can already feel him."
* * * *
Gregor's heart raced uncontrollably. His father stood with MacNeil and a man wearing a black cloak. Whatever they were telling his father had upset him for he was visibly shaken.
But when they pointed to the gates, Gregor knew they were showing his father something. He didn't have long to wonder what that something was as he felt the earth tremble.
Horses. Lots of them.
Gregor's blood pumped so loudly through his veins that he could hear it. 'Twas almost time. He would finally have his chance at MacNeil.
The sound of a scream startled him. He lifted himself on his elbows and tried to see what was going on. It wasn't until he saw his father began to run toward the castle that he knew it was his mother.
"Nay," he yelled, but no one heard him.
The entire MacLachlan clan screamed as they tried to run from the oncoming soldiers. The sounds of children crying and soldiers yelling almost drowned out the sound of the horses.
In moments, MacNeil's soldiers thundered through the gatehouse. MacLachlan soldiers were well trained, but they didn't stand a chance against MacNeil's numbers.
Gregor had seen enough. He was about to pull the string he had tied to the wood and have it crash down on MacNeil soldiers, but then the unthinkable happened.
MacNeil and the cloaked man brought his parents to stand in front of the woodpile. There was no way for him to get out now and not harm his parents.
He clenched his teeth together as he watched men he had grown up with get cut down in front of his eyes while his mother sobbed.
But 'twas his father that worried him the most. His father had always been a man that others wouldn't dare to cross and now he looked like he was about to collapse at any moment. As if all of this was just too much for him.
When MacNeil placed the tip of his sword against his mother's throat, Gregor thought he would die. He bit down on the inside of his mouth until he tasted blood to keep from shouting. It wouldn't do his parents any good if he were discovered now.
But it was MacNeil's next words that sent his blood cold. "Tell me where Gregor is, MacLachlan, or I will slit her throat."
* * * *
Fiona ducked her head as MacNeil's soldiers thundered past her and raced through the gates. Even above the sound of the horses she could hear the people screaming and crying.
"'Tis a slaughter," she said out loud as tears gathered in her eyes.
She hadn't been able to save her clan, but she could help save Gregor's. After the last of the soldiers had passed, she crawled out from the bush and raced toward the castle. No one paid her any heed as the battle raged around her.
'Twas easy enough to get through the gatehouse, but once she entered the bailey, she didn't know where to go. Chaos reigned as men fought and women and children tried to hide.
Blood spilled needlessly unto the earth all around her. Her heart silently cried out for Gregor's people, but she pushed aside her heartache and scanned the bailey. MacNeil was easy to spot, but what bothered her was the other man who stood next to him.
"The Evil One," she murmured.
The two men stood with their backs to her while MacNeil held his sword against a woman's throat. When she saw the man's face she knew 'twas Gregor's parents that MacNeil held. But where was Gregor?
She expected to see him fighting, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had she misjudged him? Had he ran instead of coming to help his clan?
CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN
"He isn't coming. You were wrong."
The Shadow took a deep breath and clenched his fist instead of hitting MacNeil. The man whined about everything. Didn't he realize that Gregor was already here?
"He's here. I can smell him."
"What?" MacNeil asked and looked around. "Then where is he? I have a blade to his mother's throat."
"He's waiting."
"You are wrong," MacLachlan stated. "Gregor knows that to return would mean death."
"What?" Margaret asked. "Gregor is here?"
"Hush, woman," MacLachlan told his wife.
The Shadow chuckled. "Aye, my lady, your son is here. We called him here."
"Why?" MacLachlan asked. "What does Gregor have to do with this?"
"Everything," MacNeil hissed. "Not only did he betray me but he sided with the Druids."
Margaret shook her head. "There are no more Druids in Scotland."
The Shadow moved closer to her. She was still a pretty woman despite the many summers she had seen. Her blonde hair was streaked with white, and her eyes were a dull gray, but he would bet they had once been blue.
"There have always been Druids in Scotland. There will always be Druid's in Scotland," he said. He turned to MacNeil. " 'Tis time."
The Shadow heard MacNeil laugh as he motioned to his soldiers to grab MacLachlan and Margaret. There had been enough talking. He knew one way that would get Gregor out of wherever he hid.
Once they reached the castle steps, he stopped and looked around the bailey. "We need to hurry, MacNeil."
"Nay," MacNeil shouted as he dragged MacLachlan up the steps. "I have kept my tongue while we sat here. I want to savor this."
He turned his eyes to MacNeil. "We aren't alone."
MacNeil blanched and looked around the bailey. "I don't see anyone."
"And you won't either. They don't want to be seen."
"Where are you going?"
The Shadow turned and looked back at MacNeil. "Have your fun, but forget about Fiona. I will meet you at our scheduled spot."
* * * *
Gregor strained to hear the words exchanged between MacNeil and the stranger. Although he knew they were looking for him, waiting for him to make a move, he waited and listened.
His mother was held by two of MacNeil's soldiers, and his father now had MacNeil's blade against his throat. Gregor looked around the bailey and saw the MacLachlan clan had put up a good fight.
There were plenty of MacNeil soldiers lying dead along side MacLachlan men. He wished he had Conall with him. Then he could free his parents while Conall aided the MacLachlan men that still fought.
His attention was jerked back to MacNeil when he heard hi
s mother scream.
* * * *
Fiona slid between two cottages as she spotted a small group of men fighting the MacNeil soldiers who needed help. She took a step toward them and spotted a rain bucket. A quick glance around found her many more.
She took a deep breath and put all her hurt and anger into using her powers. To her relief, she heard a whoosh as the water leapt from the buckets and surged straight into the air.
With one wave of her hand she called the water to her. It pooled in front of her, chest high. By this time, she had gained the soldiers attention as well as most of the MacLachlan's that were nearby.
When one soldier decided to pay her no heed and continue fighting, she jerked her hand toward the soldier. A stream of water shot out and wrapped around the soldiers right arm like an iron manacle. Before any of them could blink she had the MacNeil soldiers bound.
"Get you and your families to safety," she told the MacLachlan men.
She turned and found one solider screaming for help. She didn't know how much water was left and didn't want to try and fight until she did know. With a simple thought she had a stream of water locked around all of the soldier's mouth and head.
"That ought to quiet you until I deem otherwise," she told them as she began to walk away.
She turned back and looked at them. It wouldn't do for others to notice them yet. She waved her hand to the left and the six soldiers were lifted and moved to the back of a cottage.
Fiona blew out a breath. That had gone well, she thought. Until she heard a woman scream. She turned and saw Gregor's parents on the castle steps.
"Nay," she said and raced toward them.
* * * *
'Twas time.
Gregor waited until the MacNeil soldier fighting one of his clan moved back against the wood, then he pulled the string. Wood rolled down and crushed the MacNeil soldier.
Gregor sprang from his hiding place. He ignored the blinding pain in his legs as they cramped from not moving for so long. His mother's scream echoed in his head as he raced toward the castle.
His father picked up the sword MacNeil had thrown to the steps. No sooner had his father grasped the sword than MacNeil attacked. His father fought valiantly, but he was older than MacNeil and didn't move as fast as he used to.
MacNeil's sword sliced his father's right arm and the sword clattered loudly on the steps.
"Nay," Gregor yelled as MacNeil raised his sword.
His father turned and looked at him. Gregor watched in a daze as MacNeil plunged his sword into his father's stomach. Even as his father crumpled to the steps he kept his gaze on Gregor.
His feet wouldn't move fast enough as he watched his father's blood spill onto the castle steps. This wasn't how his father was supposed to die. He had almost reached the steps when something hit him in the back. He fell to the ground and quickly rolled to his feet to see a man waiting to fight him.
He didn't have time for this, he thought angrily as he drew his sword. After he stretched his arms, he walked toward the soldier. If he wanted a fight, then he would most certainly get a fight.
Gregor raised his sword and blocked a downward slice before he pivoted and dropped to his knees. He rolled forward and leapt to his feet in time to parry a thrust into his midsection.
The soldier was off balance and fell to the ground. Gregor jumped to avoid being sliced across his shins. The soldier gained his feet and charged.
Gregor spun and swung his sword toward the soldier. The soldier gasped and clutched his chest as blood oozed between his fingers. He didn't wait around for the soldier to die, but ran toward the castle.
He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. "It cannot be."
"Ah, but it is," MacNeil sneered. "Isn't it amazing what lands in your lap when you want it badly enough?"
Gregor raised his eyes to Fiona and asked, "Why?"
"Because I knew I could help," she answered confidently.
"And all you got was caught," MacNeil cackled.
Fiona couldn't look Gregor in the eye once she saw his disapproval. It wasn't like she had planed to get caught, but when she had seen his father fight MacNeil, she knew what would happen.
She had rushed toward Gregor's father hoping to save him when MacNeil had grabbed her. He had kept a dagger against her throat so she wouldn't cry out to Gregor while he fought.
The bailey grew quite as more of the MacLachlan clan escaped the soldiers. It made her feel better knowing that MacNeil hadn't slaughtered these people as he would have liked.
"What are you laughing at?" MacNeil screeched in her ear.
Her eyes found Gregor. She longed to ease his furrowed brow, but there wasn't time for words. She had to act and quickly, or all might be lost.
MacNeil jabbed the dagger against her throat, drawing a bead of blood. "Answer me," he said between clenched teeth.
She ignored the prick of pain. "I'm laughing because you cannot win."
"Oh, I will win," MacNeil said. "I have you and there is nothing you or your sisters can do about. The prophecy will never come to pass."
"Don't ever say 'never.' It will come back to haunt you," she warned him as her eyes darted to Gregor's mother and the two soldiers holding her.
While MacNeil snorted in her ear, she used her magic to draw the water from a nearby barrel. She split the water into two streams and formed them like a spear as they hurdled toward the soldiers.
Each water spear hit them in the chest. They collapsed dead at Lady MacLachlan's feet. Her elation was short lived as MacNeil bellowed his fury and slashed the dagger across her arm.
A burning sting blinded her as she watched the blood flow from her arm. Dimly, as if through a long tunnel, she heard someone roar and she thought it might have been Gregor.
Before she could find him, MacNeil placed a rag over her eyes. "Can't use your powers if you cannot see, can you? You wouldn't want to hurt innocent people," he said with a laugh.
Fiona wanted to cry. She had ruined her chance at freeing them all. But she would make sure that MacNeil didn't hurt her.
"I know what you are thinking," he whispered in her ear as he led her down the castle steps.
"I doubt that."
No sooner had the words left her lips than she heard the unmistakable sound of sword fighting. Gregor.
A finger ran down her cheek and she jerked away, knowing it was MacNeil. "I know you will do everything possible to stay alive, but I have something that will change your mind."
Don't ask. "And what could that possibly be?"
"Gregor and his parents. If you don't want them to die with you, you will die without a fight."
This couldn't be happening. Why had Gregor allowed himself to be caught again, but she knew. He had sworn to Moira and the Druids that he would keep her safe.
* * * *
Gregor wanted to slap the smirk from MacNeil's face. The evil bastard had known he wouldn't allow Fiona to be taken and not follow, which is why he had allowed the soldier to win and take his sword. What he hadn't counted on was MacNeil bringing his mother and wounded father along.
He refused to look at his parents. He didn't want to see the condemnation he knew would be in their eyes. Once again, he had murdered. Indirectly, but he had done it just the same.
And for just a while, Fiona had made him believe he was a good man. What a fool he was. People like him couldn't change. Once a bad apple, always a bad apple.
Never before had he wanted to kill someone as he wanted to kill MacNeil. When he had seen the blood running down Fiona's arm, all coherent thought had fled, save one--kill MacNeil. But MacNeil had used his anger against him. Every soldier knew that you couldn't let your emotions rule you, and he had made exactly that mistake.
Now he was paying for it. Not only would he watch Fiona die, but he would also have to explain to her sisters and the Druids why he had failed.
If he made it out alive.
And he didn't want to think about his parents. So far
they hadn't said anything to him, and he hoped it stayed that way. He looked up from his musing to find MacNeil had led them to the water.
It wasn't long before they stood on the shores of the great loch. MacNeil took a deep breath and said, "I think 'tis ironic that Fiona will die by the very thing she controls."
Gregor's mind raced at MacNeil's words. Surely he wasn't going to do what Gregor thought he was going to do. MacNeil soldiers, all of who had their swords and crossbows pointed toward Gregor surrounded him. He was powerless to do anything but watch.
Then his mother's voice reached his ears. "Oh, Beathan. They are going to drown her."
Gregor's stomach plummeted to his feet as he stared at his most feared enemy--water.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nay.
Gregor refused to believe his mother's words. Surely MacNeil wouldn't dare.
He took a step toward Fiona but felt a prick of a sword tip against his chest.
"Where do you think you are going?" MacNeil asked. "Could it be that you don't like the thought of Fiona drowning in the same waters where you killed your sister."
"You bastard," Gregor growled. "How the hell did you discover that?"
" 'Twas easy really. You would be amazed at how men will talk once their far into their cups."
This isn't how Gregor wanted Fiona to learn about what he had done, but 'twas too late now. MacNeil wanted her to know the details and there was nothing Gregor could do to stop him.
"Tell me," MacNeil continued as he circled Fiona. "Did Anne struggle much?"
"Hold strong, Gregor," his father said behind him.
MacNeil threw back his head and laughed. "You banished him and refused to admit you had a son, now you want to give him advice?"
"Leave them out of this," Gregor said. "They did what they thought they had to do."
"Aye," MacNeil agreed. "I would have done the same thing to a son that murdered my daughter. What I want to know is why, Gregor? She was younger than you and not a threat."
Gregor bit his tongue to keep his face from showing any emotion. He would be damned before he let MacNeil know how this affected him.