Page 83 of Taken By the Heartless Highlander
“I ken why ye ask me that, but this is me castle. I willnae let anyone take ye again, I promise ye that on me own soul. Nobody threatens a MacAllen without facing the consequences, and that priest has it comin’.”
As she let him go and tried to calm her breathing, his expression changed, and he looked down at her gravely. There was something else in his face, now. Not anger—it looked very much like fear.
“I ken ye are yer own person, lass, and ye do as ye please—heaven kens I have seen the evidence of that. But please—I am askin’ ye—dinnae go down there.”
Keira looked back at the torches, which seemed to have multiplied in numbers even in the few moments she had been turned away. Hundreds of figures were waiting to drag her away, and she was terrified that there would be bloodshed tonight that she could not prevent.
“Please, lass.” Noah’s eyes were dark and worried as she looked back at him.
“Alright,” she stated solemnly, but her heart told her that if Noah was in trouble she would do anything to protect him.
* * *
Noah left Keira with her sister and brother and headed down to the courtyard. He had faced many battles and foes in his time, but none had obliterated fear quite like Lucas MacPhee—all he felt was rage.
He would happily see the man burned on a pyre to repay what he had put Keira through. In Noah’s mind this was no man of God. He was evil through and through and nothing would convince him otherwise.
He walked out of the main gates and toward the ominous glow of the torches at the castle's boundary.
Callum was waiting for him, both of them dressed in their house colors and sporting several weapons. Noah himself had a knife concealed in each boot, and he knew Callum would have the same.
His man-at-arms had his hair slicked back, as though he had just dunked it into the fountain, as he always did. This time it brought no smile to Noah’s face.
He looked past Callum to the solitary figure standing at the head of the crowds. The priest's sharp features flickered in the torchlight, making him look almost unreal as he watched Noah approach.
Noah was unhappy about the sheer number of people this man could influence. It could not just be members of Keira’s village who had gathered behind him; some had to be from the MacAllen clan. Noah was ashamed of every single one of them for having their heads turned by such a man.
They are people of God, and he is a man of God. It is not always so easy to dismiss one's faith, he conceded. But there was a bitter taste in his mouth all the same.
Noah glanced at Callum. His man-at-arms stood very still, watching the priest, his expression stern and determined.
“Ye say the word and we’ll clear them from yer gates.”
“I ken, Callum. But we must try to end this peacefully. Everythin’ will only be made worse if blood is spilled tonight.”
“I ken that, but this isnae just an attack on Keira. This is yer castle.”
“Do they look like an army?” Noah asked skeptically.
“Appearances can be deceivin’,” Callum stated darkly.
Both of them looked at the priest standing before them—how true that is.
“I’ll talk to him,” Noah said. “Stay here for now, prepare the men.”
“Already done, me laird.”
Noah nodded and took a few steps forward. It was a cool night. Shadows grew long behind the torches before him, and a bright moon lit the sky.
“State yer business, priest,” Noah shouted, feeling a rush of power ripple through him as the quiet murmuring of the crowd settled into silence.
Callum was rigid behind him, his hand on his sword, loyal and resolute to the last.
The priest slowly walked forward. He had the command of every person present and there was a slight swagger to his step.
Noah understood the addictive feeling that power could bring. He had been born into a position that possessed it from birth, and he had seen the authority his presence in a room could hold. This man clearly enjoyed the feeling, he almost appeared to revel in it.
“Me Laird,” MacPhee shouted, his screeching voice carrying over the still air between them. “We want nay trouble from ye, we merely want what is ours—what God commands us to retrieve. We want Keira Young.”
