Page 92 of Sins of a Scot
The laird took several steps across the room, his hand raised, ready to strike. But Hamilton and Keane hurriedly stood in front of her, and Keane took the blow. In the meantime, the soldiers had grabbed Owen’s arms, legs, and head. One of the soldier’s painfully forced his eyes open with his fingers.
Sutherland stepped back and glared at Owen, but before Owen felt another searing pain in his chest, yelling in the corridor beyond stopped Laird Sutherland in his tracks.
“We’re under attack. We’re under attack,” the voices yelled, quickly followed by many heavy footfalls outside the room.
Laird Sutherland swiftly headed towards the door, and upon opening it, he grabbed the nearest guard.
“What’s going on?” he barked.
“We’re under attack, me laird.”
“From who?”
“Clan Sinclair, me laird. There are hundreds o’ them.”
Even in his bound state, Owen felt a thrill upon hearing those words. He had no idea how his clan had found them, but a rush of hope ran through his entire being. Somehow, his father hadfound him, and now, Laird Sutherland would have a battle on his hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The laird let the guard continue on. He then turned and stepped back into the room. Looking at the guards that still surrounded them, he said, “Bring them with me.”
Iseabail could not help but feel hope in her heart. Four of them were no match for Sutherland and his clan, but Owen’s father had arrived. She could only imagine her letter had something to do with his arrival, but how he had found them, she did not know. As the guards pushed them down the corridor, following their laird’s long strides, she realized she didn’t really care. They now had a chance.
Several minutes later, they were led into the courtyard outside, where Clan Sinclair stood waiting for them. They had broken through the front gate, and with Madigan and Daire seated on their horses, the warriors of the Sinclair clan, a huge crowd of men, stood behind them, ready for battle.
Sutherland’s men had obviously been pushed back, and now stood in opposition, ready to defend the castle. Laird Sutherland turned and grabbed Owen, pressing a blade to his throat. Upon seeing their laird, his men parted, and Laird Sutherland moved in front of his men. Eventually, he came to a stop and called out to Madigan.
“Ye are surely a mighty force, Laird Sinclair. But are ye really willing tae lose yer only son?”
Madigan gave the laird a steady look, while Daire glowered down at him.
“Ye only have one choice here, Laird Sutherland,” Madigan said, sounding far calmer than he ought to under the circumstances. “Me clan and I will leave if ye release these prisoners. There isnae any need fer all this bloodshed. Look around ye. We outnumber ye three tae one. Release the prisoners, and we will go and leave ye in peace.”
“What kind o’ a fool dae ye take me fer?” Laird Sutherland spat. “Dae ye really expect me tae believe ye’ll just leave if I let them go?”
“I give ye me word,” Madigan replied. “There is nay greater honor than a man’s word. I am only hear tae bring me son safely home.”
“This son?” Sutherland growled, pressing the dagger deeper into Owen’s throat.
Iseabail gasped, fearing that the madman might actually kill him just to prove a point. But a second later, she felt a solid, warm hand on her arm, and glancing beside her, her father gazed at her steadily. He was trying to convey to her that she should remain calm, but she could not. How could she, when the man she loved might be murdered before her very eyes.
“I think it is plain tae see, Laird Sinclair, that I have the upper hand here,” Laird Sutherland continued.
Madigan still did not flinch, and straightening himself on his horse, he said, “Then clearly, ye dinnae ken me son at all.”
In the blink of an eye, Owen twisted himself in such a way that the laird lost his grasp, and a few seconds later, Owen stood beside his father’s horse.
“Och, thanks be tae the gods,” Iseabail whispered.
“Now, me laird,” Madigan said again. “I will offer ye one final time. Release the prisoners, and we will leave ye in peace. At this moment in time, I have nay grudge tae hold against ye.”
For the longest moment, a deathly silence fell upon all those present. Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see what Laird Sutherland would do. As far as Iseabail was concerned, he was being given an opportunity to save both himself and his men. Surely, any man with an ounce of common sense would take that offer. But then, Laird Sutherland was a proud and power-hungry man. Pride had been many a man’s downfall, and she doubted it would be much different in this case.
When Laird Sutherland opened his mouth and broke the silence, it was not with a reply to Laird Sinclair, but with a direction to his men.
“Attack!” he bellowed.
Proving her summary of him to be right, the laird had chosen war instead of peace, and the soldiers and guards of Clan Sutherland launched toward Clan Sinclair screaming a battle cry.
