The moment Colin reached the first and widest sabotaged section of the wall he swung the large club and let it crash into the weakened stones. They crumbled instantly upon the collision.
Moving forward, Colin swung again and then again. Each time the wall caved under the assault. Arriving at the second intentionally weakened section, he swung the club one last time and the stones shattered all around him.
He threw the club at the crowd, causing several to jump back or be hit. He exited through the broken wall. Conor and Dunlop joined him.
Colin stopped and sat still for several moments staring at the fidgeting assemblage, the expression in his eyes unreadable. The gathering continued to swell. Many moved outside the broken pieces of evidence that proved their disloyalty. They waited in silence, unnerved by their laird’s cold and distant behavior.
Finally, Colin spoke. “The Dunstans are a proud clan, one weakened by wars. You needed an army to protect you, and I started building one. I had hoped to see the Dunstans grow again into a powerful family of Scotland.”
Colin looked out, capturing the twitching eyes of several village clan leaders one by one. His face remained a stony mask, his normally bright blue eyes dangerously dark. “My wife wanted the same for you. Her love for her people was so great that she married this Highlander and learned how to be the Lady of Lochlen, a position she never aspired to have. Makenna wanted to make you proud. She hoped you would accept her and allow her to help you make your lives better.” His rapier glance passed over the masses, chilling them with its coldness. “But you chose to reject the kindness offered by her generous heart.”
Colin pointed to the portion of the wall no longer standing. “You do not want the safety being offered to you by a Highlander. You would rather help would-be attackers and have enemies raid your home than live under a McTiernay’s rule.”
Reaching down, he pulled out his sword. Colin held the crowd still, his eyes now burning with raw hurt and pained acknowledgment of what he must do. “I accept your decree. Return to your castle. Give your wall as a gift to a new laird that will make you happy. For while I will lose this castle and the lands to which I have lost blood and lives, I will leave with my pride, my self-respect, and my family,” he said smoothly. “But I will also be taking my sword.”
The crowd watched in half shock, half horror as Colin raised his claymore up in the air. Over a thousand soldiers appeared on the ridge.
Turning to face his men, he punched his sword higher into the air. “With whom do you stand?” he roared, his voice full of command.
Every one of them including Dunlop, who had been watching in silence alongside Conor, raised his sword and yelled, “McTiernay!” The echoes of their definitive loyalty could be heard for miles.
Colin pulled the right rein and rotated back toward the sea of visibly shaken faces. His blue eyes were flat, hard, and remote even as understanding flooded into their expressions. McTiernay was not as weak as they had been led to believe. He had amassed an army loyal to him that could defeat any enemy. They were not stronger or better off under MacCuaig. They had made a terrible mistake and were about to pay the price.
Colin was just about to direct his black toward his men and ride away, when a voice rang out in the crowd. “It was not all of us! Not even most of us betrayed you! Do not leave us defenseless for what only a few did!” the voice cried. It was Gannon’s.
Colin stopped abruptly. His stern-faced expression leveled onto the steward’s. The muscle in the side of Colin’s jaw flexed, indicating how deep his anger ran. “Did you not?” Colin challenged, his voice filled with condemnation. “Can one of you tell me that you were innocent of knowing about the treachery taking place around you? Can you give me your word that you knew nothing, Gannon? Can you swear an oath that you had no knowledge of who acted against my wife? Your own lady?”
Colin slowly surveyed the rest of them and demanded, “Can any of you claim you knew not of the town wall’s weakened state or who caused it? Betrayal comes in many forms, but those cowards who know of treachery and do nothing hold even less value to me than those who actively support my enemy’s cause.”
His voice was laced with dark accusations, ones none of them could refute. Any hope that he would change his mind vanished when Colin spurred his horse and rode away with Conor and Dunlop. Upon joining his men, he led them north, away from Lochlen toward the Highlands. He never once looked back.
Chapter Seventeen
Three hours after leaving Lochlen, Colin amassed his men on the western side of the Lammermuir Hills. The clouds had thickened, causing the sky to hint of dusk versus early afternoon. Rain was imminent.
Colin roamed clasping arms and greeting men he had not seen for months. Expressions of eagerness and respect stared back at him. Dunlop squeezed his shoulder to get his attention and pointed to a group of men apart from the crowd. “Drake’s leaders are assembled and waiting for us. Conor has already joined them.”
Colin nodded and approached the small gathering. He supported Drake’s decision to divide the men into ten mixed-skilled groups, each with its own leader that reported to him. Now they reported to Colin. “It is good to see you again. I shared your frustration these past several weeks at being forced to remain hidden until today. But your patience has paid off. Drake has told me why he selected you, and I stand behind his decision. You ten will now form my elite guard with Dunlop and Drake as your commanders.” Colin scanned the group, finding his brother there for support, but not interfering. “Conor, is Seamus here?”
“I just sent him to the hills to prepare my men. I plan to follow once we are done here.”
“Then I will ride with you. I want to make sure Makenna is well before we return.”
“Are we going back?” asked one of the guards.
“Aye, we are going back. MacCuaig is most likely invading as we speak, looking for us and finding us gone. He will be sloppy, seeking ways to relieve his frustration. I expect a villager or two to arrive any moment and ask for our help. Each of you, rally your men and prepare for battle.”
Immediately the small cluster of leaders disassembled to carry out their orders. Excitement buzzed all around them. For too long they had been away from Lochlen waiting for a chance to rid their home of threats and deceit.
“Dunlop, ensure that the men are ready to move upon my return. Drake, if you want to see that lass of yours, you best ride with Conor and me to the hills.”
Colin was moving toward his black tied with several other horses when he saw three riders coming from the south. He mounted and rode partway to meet them, his face expressionless. Conor and Drake followed.
The three riders slowed, each in various states of nervousness and fright. One of them was Ian. The defiance had left his eyes; his posture no longer carried the rebellious attitude. It was he who spoke. “Laird?”
Colin eyed him with a calculating expression. “I am no longer your laird. Go back to your home.”
Overwhelming panic invaded the young man’s face. His brave countenance wavered. “We’ve come to ask you to return. We know now how wrong we were. What you said was true. Though we never saw ourselves as such, we were the cowards you claimed us to be.”
“Your needs and fears are no longer my concern,” Colin said flatly.
Hot, furious tears burned in Ian’s eyes. “They are your concern. You are our laird, and right now enemy soldiers are entering our lands and occupying Lochlen!” Panic filled his voice. The clan’s only chance was Colin’s return.
“Then you must be happy to have a Lowland laird so amenable to your customs, ways, and values,” Colin replied, his voice remote.