Drake sat across the table. His jaws were clenched together. “At least a hundred have moved in across the loch. They haven’t budged since they arrived at daylight.”
“They’re waiting for a signal,” Conor surmised.
Drake nodded in agreement. “Aye, we think so. We didn’t want to risk being seen to find out.”
Colin turned toward Dunlop. “And what did you discover?”
The guard stopped stroking his chin. It was clear that he, too, was very disturbed at the timing of Makenna’s news. “Just as you suspected. He has help from at least two clans, but neither leader is going public with his support. We saw several changing into MacCuaig colors.”
“How many men?”
“Two, possibly three hundred of his forces are waiting in plain view just outside the southern border of Dunstan lands, perhaps two hours out on horseback. No doubt there are many more hidden.”
Colin bent his head and studied the grain on the table for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was full of authority and decision. “Drake, move the men along the ridge and wait for my signal.”
“Today, then?”
“Aye,” Colin answered solemnly. “It is time for the Dunstans to learn the might of my sword and the meaning of its absence. My wife and child will be with people of honor, and if the Dunstans cannot find their integrity, Lochlen is theirs; I want it no longer. Move all the men along the ridge.”
“All the men?” Dunlop asked, somewhat surprised.
“Every last one of them. When it is time, I want only a sea of McTiernay soldiers to be in sight.” Dunlop inclined his head and left with Drake.
Conor rose with easy confidence. “I’ll order my men to remain hidden in the hills. I’ll talk to Laurel and then will meet you at the stables. I’m sending Laurel to my forces when I leave. Do you want Makenna to go with her?”
Standing, Makenna reached out and grasped Colin’s arm. “Colin, what is happening?”
Colin turned and said, “My hope is to mend this clan and bring them together, united under my leadership. I might have been willing to remain here until they were ready. Now I no longer care. Only you and the baby are important. I like Lochlen, I admire the Dunstan determination, but I will no longer stand by and wait while they persecute my family. Today, your clan will either prove they trust me, or you, my men, and I will leave.” He brushed his mouth lightly across hers before adding, “I need you to prepare to leave immediately. Pack only what is necessary and meet Laurel and Ceridwin by the gatehouse. Four soldiers will be waiting to take you three to Lammermuir Hills, where Conor’s force is waiting.”
“But would it not be better, safer, to remain here?”
Colin chuckled, pulling her close. “There are over a hundred of Conor’s men in those hills. You will be quite safe there.”
Makenna shrugged within his embrace and rested her head against his chest. “Your force may be smaller, Colin, but I am quite sure I would be just as safe with your men as I would be with Conor’s.”
Colin gripped her head between his hands and kissed her forehead with a surge of exasperation and pride. “My force is not smaller, love. Over a thousand of my men are lining up on that ridge. Men loyal to me, not the Dunstans. And if I pull out of Lochlen, I want you already safe and gone. Trust me.”
Makenna gave him one last hug, praying that her people heard what he had tried to tell them last night. Heard and paid heed to the warning.
Makenna was packing her bag when she remembered Camus. She quickly dashed out of the tower and across the courtyard. There was one more thing she had to get. She refused to leave without it. And, if possible, give it to Colin before he faced her people.
Laurel saw Makenna heading toward the inner gatehouse and moved to intercept her. “Makenna, over here! I am waiting for Ceridwin to finish packing. She is coming with us.”
Makenna gave a curt nod of gratitude for taking care of her new friend. “I must get to the armory before Colin leaves.”
Laurel put out a hand to stall her. “The armory? I don’t think…”
Makenna’s smile was without humor. “You don’t understand, but you will. I have to hurry if I am going to catch up with Colin. He was going to the stables when I went to pack.”
“Makenna, Conor said that you were to come with us. He was very clear.”
“Once I leave the armory, I am going to try one last time to convince Colin to let me ride with him.”
“But…”
Makenna’s eyes were the color of jade, firm, resolute and unbending. “I ask you, Laurel, truthfully. Would you not try to be with Conor, show him loyalty, visibly support his decision, if you could? You told me once I might have to choose between Colin and my people. I have chosen. I will always love this land, Lochlen, and my clan, but my loyalties lie first and foremost with my husband. Please say you understand.”
Laurel blinked away tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, if it were Conor, I would want to be there.”
Makenna clasped Laurel’s hands, thanking her. “I promise to return immediately to the stables if Colin says no. I won’t argue, I promise. Ten minutes is all I need. If I do not meet you there, then you will know that I have persuaded him to let me come.”
Laurel embraced Makenna, fighting a growing sense of unease. “Hurry, Makenna,” she whispered. “Ceridwin and I will wait for you.”
Makenna gave one last squeeze before letting go. “I will and take care, my newest sister.”
Laurel watched as Makenna disappeared through the last portcullis hurrying toward the right. Moments later Ceridwin and she headed toward the stables and waited.
Colin marched across the outer yard heading for the stables. Dunlop met him halfway and handed him the reins of his horse. He had seen Colin in many moods, but the cold anger that had flared to life that morning would chill anyone who looked upon him, even his own men.
Retrieving the leather strips held out for him, Colin looked up. The dark sky was overcast, but it was not yet raining. Most likely, it would not break loose until nightfall, and then it would rain heavily. One way or another, this matter would be closed by then.
Seeing Camus across the yard, Colin signaled him. The sword smith raised a bronzed, wizened hand and then disappeared inside his shop. Heavy pounding of a horse approached from behind. His brother was ready.
“Shall we ride?” Conor asked, pulling his dark stallion to a stop beside Colin.
“Almost,” Colin answered. “I am waiting on Camus and then we will go.”
As if on cue, Camus appeared again carrying a very large clublike weapon reinforced on the end with a thick metal used in armor and battle-axes. “Per your specifications, I believe, Laird,” he said curiously as he handed over the heavy object.
Colin took the macelike club in one hand and examined it. “Aye, this is exactly what I need. If you are ready, get a horse and ride to the Lammermuir Hills.”
“I’m ready,” Camus replied, patting a bag he had swung over his shoulder.
Colin threw the heavy object at Conor and mounted his horse. Grabbing it, Conor grunted at the weight and then turned it over appreciatively. Lifting his brows in approval, he silently praised Camus’s workmanship. “Fine instrument. It should do quite nicely.”
Colin reclaimed the weapon and faced Dunlop. “Are they expecting me?”
Dunlop nodded and replied through stiff lips, “They are. Word was sent you were coming. They are gathering by the Commune Tree near the wall. No doubt more will come at the moment of your arrival.”
Colin’s face hardened, his expression ominous. “Then let us ride.”
Seconds later the group headed toward the outer gate and proceeded directly to the town wall. Colin rode out front, keeping the gait slow and steady as he rode deliberately alongside the wall. Conor and Dunlop remained a safe distance back knowing what was about to happen.
Colin could feel the crowd growing and following him. He felt no pity. Mercy now would hurt them more than compassion.