Things were quiet. Too quiet. The sun was still well above the horizon and yet the entire keep looked to be readying for the day’s end.
Such laziness and inattentiveness were unforgivable. Did McHugh care nothing for the protection of his clan? Or did he think the Armstrongs and Montgomerys were even now in battle and as such he had nothing to worry about?
Tavis leaned forward in the saddle and then centered his stare down the line at Graeme. “If this is a trick, Montgomery, I’ll not rest until you and all of your kin are wiped from this earth.”
In response, Graeme spurred his horse and began riding down the incline to the gate of the McHugh holding. There was no way to be secretive with an army the size of the two combined clans. His hope was that in order to preserve the lives of his clansmen, the McHugh laird would give up supporting the madness wrought by his son and surrender Eveline into Graeme’s hands.
If not, Graeme was prepared to slaughter every single McHugh.
As Graeme approached, and the hundreds of soldiers began appearing over the hillside, a cry of alarm went up inside the gates of the McHugh holding.
Panic sounded. Cries, shouts, the clank of metal. Screams from women and the sobs of children. Graeme refused to allow it to soften his mind. His wife was somewhere in there, terrified, and God only knew what she’d already been forced to endure.
Patrick McHugh appeared at the guard tower a moment later, fear in his eyes as he surveyed the threat before him.
“Tavis, what brings you here to my keep looking as though you are readying for battle?” he yelled.
“I’ve come for my wife,” Graeme snarled before Tavis could respond.
Patrick looked pale and sweaty. “Your wife? Laird, I’ve not seen your wife. Why would you look for her here?”
Graeme only grew angrier. “You try my patience, McHugh. Present your sniffling, pitiful excuse for a son at once or I vow we’ll kill every last one of your kin.”
Patrick held up both hands. “Tavis, be reasonable. Please. Speak to Montgomery. You and I are friends. We are allies. I have not seen Eveline. You must believe me. I cannot fight the combined power of your two clans and hope to win. I’ll not risk my people when we’ve done no wrong.”
Tavis wavered, his gaze skirting to Graeme. For a moment, Graeme thought that Tavis would side with Patrick and question Graeme’s account again. Graeme’s blood surged with fury, but Tavis said in a low, urgent tone, “Is it possible Patrick could not know of what his son has done?”
Graeme’s lip curled. “I find it hard to believe. However, if Patrick has done no wrong, then he should not object to producing his son to answer the charges against him, nor should he object to us searching the keep.”
Tavis nodded his agreement.
“Produce your son,” Graeme bellowed up. “If you claim you have done no wrong, then you’ll let us question your son and you’ll let us inside your gates to search the keep. Make no mistake, McHugh, this is not a request. We’ll gain access one way or another. ’Tis up to you how it is done. Now do as I’ve said. I’ll not wait a moment longer to be reunited with my wife.”
“By all that’s holy, I do not know of what you speak!”
Patrick’s words were tinged with desperation. He was visibly shaken and it was obvious that he was seized with fear.
“Deliver your son,” Graeme said in an icy tone. “ ’Tis all that will save you and your clan from annihilation.”
“Give me but a moment. I beg you. I’ll summon him. Do not harm him. He couldn’t have done all you’ve accused him of.”
“If he’s innocent then you have nothing to fear,” Tavis barked out. “Now stop wasting our time and present him forth. If my daughter has come to harm, ’tis not the Montgomerys you’ll have to worry about.”
Hearing the solidarity between the two rival clans, Patrick folded on the spot.
“Bring Ian to me,” he barked back to one of his men. “And open the gates to admit the chieftains.”
Tavis quickly turned and counted out a contingent of men to ride inside the gates with him and his sons. Graeme nodded to Bowen to direct him to do the same. They’d not go in without enough men to successfully defend against an ambush. The rest would remain outside and on guard.
A moment later, the gate opened, and Graeme urged his horse forward. His pulse was pounding loudly in his ears, the taste of fear acid in his mouth. He feared he was too late. He feared that Ian would have already brutalized Eveline.
God, don’t let him be too late.
Men and women alike scurried away as Graeme, his brothers, Tavis, and his sons were the first to ride into the courtyard. Behind them came forty other soldiers, all with weapons drawn, their gazes rapidly scanning for any threat.
Patrick rushed forward and a bare moment later, a sullen Ian was brought before Graeme by two of his father’s men. Graeme’s gaze honed in on the smaller man. He didn’t seem remotely nervous or afraid. He stared boldly at the two chieftains still astride their horses and then sneered in their direction.
Graeme slid down, wanting to be face-to-face with Ian so he wouldn’t have a false sense of safety. He wanted the younger man to know exactly what fate awaited him.
Behind him, his brothers also dismounted, and then Tavis and his sons came in close behind Graeme.
Ian’s chin came up. The only evidence that his bravado was faltering was the hard swallow he took.
“Tell them,” Patrick said. “Tell them you had nothing to do with Eveline’s disappearance so they can be on their way.”