Page 63 of Claimed By a Savage Scot
By the time he finished, the chamber had grown deathly still.
“That bastard grows bolder by the day,” John muttered, his lined face drawn into a deep scowl.
“Aye,” Malcolm agreed grimly.
Quentin shook his grey head slowly and piped up, “The lass has suffered enough already. We cannae let her fall intae that monster’s hands.”
At that, Malcolm’s jaw tightened instinctively, his hands bracing on the table’s edge.
Forcing his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he continued, “There’s some hopeful news as well. I received word late last night that Duncan Grant’s already on his way here with his men.”
Malcolm noted the signs of relief which flickered briefly around the chamber. But then John asked, “How many men?”
Ewan stepped in. “Two hundred. And he’s bringin’ extra supplies as well. With Grant reinforcements added tae our defenses, perhaps Sinclair will think twice before attackin’ us outright,” he suggested to Malcolm.
“Perhaps,” Malcolm said, nodding. “But ’tis hard tae predict what a mad man will dae if he wants somethin’ enough. It would be dangerous tae underestimate him.”
“True enough,” Ewan agreed, nodding.
Malcolm drew himself up. “So, our priority remains Lady Catriona’s safety above all else. If Sinclair attacks, we hold the castle until Duncan arrives. Is that all understood?”
A murmur of agreement immediately followed the question, satisfying him of their support.
He looked to his brother. “Ye ken me orders. I want the walls manned day and night,” he continued. “Archers positioned on the southern battlements. Double patrols beyond the outer grounds. And nay one enters or leaves this castle without clearance.”
“Yer commands are already in hand, Braither,” Ewan said, more for the benefit of the councilmen than Malcolm. Since Malcolm’sreturn to the castle with Catriona, the brothers had spent countless hours together preparing for an attack.
John leaned forward slightly. “Me laird, d’ye truly think Sinclair would risk open conflict with both the Gordons and Grants?”
Malcolm’s eyes hardened, reflecting his inner thoughts on the matter.
“Fer Catriona?” he said quietly, the blood chilling in his veins as he met John’s eyes then swept his gaze over them all. “I’m sorry tae say that, judgin’ by his actions these past five or six years, I dinnae think there’s any question about it.”
His words settled heavily over the chamber as the men exchanged worried looks.
After a few moments, Ewan said with an air of finality to the room in general, “We’ve all kenned fer a while this was likely comin’. We’re ready.”
The discussion went on, but as far as Malcolm was concerned, he had gotten what he had come for. His interest waned and his thoughts soon drifted elsewhere.
Towards Catriona.
What’s she daein’ right now?
His chest tightened.
Christ, man, get a hold of yersel’.
“Malcolm?”
He blinked and focused on his brother’s knowing smirk.
“What?” he asked, scowling.
“I asked if ye wish tae send additional riders tae meet Duncan halfway,” Ewan replied, his smirk widening.
“Aye,” Malcolm answered immediately, ignoring the amusement on his brother’s face. “Send ten men. If Sinclair’s scouts are nearby, I want Duncan warned before he reaches our borders.”
The meeting continued another quarter hour before Malcolm finally dismissed them.
