Page 124 of The Speed of Lightning
One by one, the eight elders rose and seated themselves upon the dais. Calum took the high seat, running his hands over the hounds carved into the armrests, and drew a deep breath.
Calum cleared his throat. “My name is not my own, it is borrowed from my ancestors. I will return it unstained. My honor is not my own, it is loaned from my descendants. I will give it to them unbroken. My blood is not my own, it is a gift to generations yet unborn. I will carry it with responsibility. This is my solemn pledge as your chieftain.”
The clan responded together. “Rise, our chieftain.”
Calum rose. “The first and only matter I bring concerns the events of my missive. Two days ago, my wife, Lady MacLean, was abducted by Ragnall MacSorley and Rory MacDonald. By Ragnall’s own confession—and confirmed by the unsealed will of King John of Islay preserved at Iona—it is proven that Lady MacLean is John’s daughter by his first wife, Amie MacRuari. Through her, Freya inherits Garmoran and Castle Tioram upon her marriage.
“That is why Rory bound himself to Ragnall, why he stole her to Ardtornish, and why he means to claim both her and her lands. But our marriage is whole—beyond annulment. When that truth comes to light, he will turn desperate. Worse, he and Ragnall have pledged themselves to the overthrow of the Council of the Isles, with Dómhnall the pretender and Alexander Stewart at its head.
“And so I come to ask for your vote in lending our support to King John Mór and War Chief Hector MacLean in raising an army. We will need every able man between eighteen and fifty for a war that may last years. To sustain our effort, I propose we sell the spoils of Somerled’s war—enough to pay for fortifications, walls, and weapons. With it, we will stand with the rest of the Isles, ready for whatever further attacks may come.”
The crowd looked wary—as well they should. His conscience burned. To ask more of them so soon after a devastating attack was no small thing. These were men he had grown beside, fathers and brothers now called to give all for a nation thatbarely accepted them. Many were still rebuilding, their sons, daughters, and wives freshly laid in the burial ground, their children still waking in fear. Every plea for their support was also a plea for their blood, and the weight of it felt like a millstone. Yet if he let fear spare them now, it would only condemn them later.
They stared at him, faces unreadable. No assent, no protest, only a silence that hung heavy in the hall.
He tried to think of what Da would say. “I realize that this is a heavy request?—”
Arne MacSorley lurched to his feet. “Lady MacLean? You mean Freya? Freya’s been stolen?”
“Aye.”
The hall erupted. The children cried out, clutching their parents as fear swept the room. Calum froze. Their wails cut straight through him. He hadn’t thought—hadn’t even considered how they would take the news. Guilt churned in his gut. He’d let Freya down again, by not thinking of them. His hand clutched the edge of his father’s high seat as he fought to steady himself, searching desperately for words that might calm them.
He opened his mouth, but Arne climbed onto a bench, eyes blazing. “We’ll chase away the darkness! We’ve got to stomp—we’ve got to stomp for Freya!”
Little feet answered at once, pattering against the floor like rain. Calum’s throat tightened. Arne stamped harder, voice ringing over the noise. “Aye, she can hear it. She can hear us in Ardtornish. The Shield will come! The Shield will come for her!” He pointed straight at Calum. “We have Lightning! And Beithir, Lion, Thunder, Shadow, Sea, Rock, Charger, Bird—we have them all! Chieftain Lightning will lead them. He’ll save Freya. He’ll stop Rory MacDonald, that cur’s son!”
Arne’s mother caught him by the ear and pulled him down from the bench, but the boy’s faith had already shifted the hall. The fear was still there—but now it burned with something fiercer, something stronger.
A small girl with blonde hair and two missing teeth jumped up. “Chieftain Lightning has the king too! We cannae forget.”
The children’s cheer tore through the longhouse. Calum’s stomach dropped. The little girl misunderstood. What they dared would be an act of war against their own kingdom. He cleared his throat, lifting his hands for silence.
“I fear we will march with the backing of only a few clans. Perhaps half the Council of the Isles. King John Mór has?—”
The girl shook her head. “Nnnnooo, silly. No’that king—King Jesus.” She pointed at the altar cross. “Isnae that his cross?”
Calum blinked, caught off guard. “A-aye. That is his cross.”
A freckled lad piped up. “Chieftain Lightning, d’you no’ ken him from the Tale of Walking on Water?”
Another child chimed in. “Or the Tale of the Calming of Storms?”
“The Tale of the Lame Man?” shouted another.
Arne folded his arms. “Surely you’ve heard the Tale of the Multitude’s Fill? Feeding a crowd with two fish and five loaves—that’s doolally…”
The hall broke into laughter, the children’s eyes bright. Arne scrambled back onto the bench, raising his arms, urging the others to join in as he spoke. “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior…”
Calum gripped the chair, his eyes burning. Voices rose all around him as nearly every soul in the hall joined the words of the Magnificat—Freya’s favorite prayer. The song of Mary’s faith that proclaimed her praise to God for what he would do throughthe Messiah, lifting up the lowly, and bringing the proud to their knees.
She had done it.By the living God, she had done it. She had taken the stories he’d whispered to her at night and sewn them into the children’s hearts—and through them, into the whole clan.
“He has received his servants, being mindful of his mercy. As he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed forever—Amen.” Arne beamed. “Chieftain Lightning will fetch our Freya back. He has the finest king o’ the world, and the stoutest company—the Shield—and we shall muster the bravest guard to ride with Hector’s army.”
Ayes exploded through the room.
The coffers of gold were hauled in and thunked one after the other in front of the door.
