Page 18 of Bride of the Mad Laird
Tòrr braced himself. Something was not right.
“Out with it man, what’s this news ye’ve gleaned fer me?”
“First off, we’ve nae entirely escaped the gallowglasses.”
Tòrr started. “Hell and its devils lad, what d’ye mean? Did they follow ye all the way?”
Edmund shook his head, “I was certain I’d escaped them, nae long after I left ye and the lass back in Fionnphort. Me horse had nay trouble outpacing those Highland ponies of theirs. I made good time, while ye went slow on the road by the shore.”
Tòrr gulped another mouthful of the fiery spirit. “So, what makes ye think they’re still on our tail?”
“’Tis fortunate ye came under cover of darkness. Me men tell me they were awaiting ye at Tobermory, expecting ye and the lass would pass there.”
“So yer men have seen them?”
“Aye, in one of the taverns in the town. There’s nay mistaking the rowdy bunch of ruffians in their dun-colored kilts. ‘Tis easy enough tae tell by their way of speaking that they’re nae from hereabouts.”
“So what else did yer men discover?”
Edmund let out a deep sigh and reached for the decanter of whisky to pour another dram for them both.
“It seems the gallowglasses are in the pay of the Laird Alexander MacDougall.”
Tòrr sucked in a surprised breath between his teeth. God’s blood. MacDougall was behind this?
“I kent the man was nae our friend before today, although he masquerades as such, and I’ve long believed the rumors that he’s allied himself wi’ the English king.” He scratched his head in disbelief. “Yet I’d ne’er have thought he would so openly be our enemy as tae send his mercenaries intae our lands.”
Edmund nodded, giving this several seconds of thought before he replied. “Aye. I’ve puzzled on this since me men brought me the news. I’ve dispatched them tae return and seek out the gallowglasses. I want tae ken what they want wi’ us.”
Tòrr placed his glass on the table. “I cannae but think this is connected tae the lass, Lyra, who they hunted at Iona. Somehow they’ve discovered she has accompanied me back to Dùn Ara.”
“Och.” Edmund gave a small laugh. “Seems our rescue of the lady has brought more trouble tae our doorstep than we could have imagined.”
“Aye. We’ll need tae take care. Make sure Lyra daes nae leave our walls, and make sure the men are aware of possible danger.”
“I’ll instruct the men tae keep an eye on her and prevent her from leaving the castle walls.”
Tòrr nodded. That would not be good news for Lyra, who fancied herself strolling on the cliff tops, the wind in her wild curls, enjoying her freedom from the constraints of the Priory.
He walked to the study door and stepped outside into the passageway with Edmund by his side.
“We can discuss more of this later Now, ‘tis time I took some nourishment. ‘Tis been a hard three days and I’m looking forward tae me own bed and some good fare tae fill me belly.”
As they sauntered toward the refectory, Tòrr’s thoughts were swirling with the news he’d just been given. It was a startling revelation that the mercenaries were in MacDougall’s pay. However, it made sense for he was one of the few men with sufficient wealth to hire a company of gallowglasses. Yet what he wanted with Lyra remained a mystery that Tòrr needed urgently to unravel.
While his mind was busy with plans to find out more, he recalled the lass’s horrified reaction when they’d arrived at the road leading to Duart castle, MacDougall’s stronghold on the Isle of Mull.
Certain that the answers lay with Lyra, he entered the refectory determined to find out who exactly she was and the reason for MacDougall’s pursuit of her.
They’d only just seated themselves at the table when Claray, accompanied by Lyra, entered the hall.
Although she was still clad in the worn kirtle that was certainly showing signs of wear after their travels, her face lit up when their eyes met, and her plush lips had him hankering for a kiss. Her hair, tumbling freely down her back, enticed his fingers.
He pulled his glance away as she advanced toward them. He would do well to keep his wits about him. Whoever this lass was, she’d brought them much closer to a powerful enemy than he cared for. A clan war with MacDougall was to be avoided at all costs. While his father Murchadh was alive, there had been an uneasy truce between the MacKinnons and MacDougall, but he’d never trusted Laird Alexander.
Tòrr’s alliance with the MacLeods and the MacNeils built on marriage and kinship, strengthened the advantage of the MacKinnons. Yet the bond between the three clans was new and untested.
Would those clans risk MacDougall’s wrath and come to his aid should it be necessary?
