Page 3 of The Eagle

“If we wished to imprison ye, we would have done so by now,” Artair snapped. “Ye should have expected that sooner or later, Clan Maclean would come in search of ye.”

Lennox looked to the men who seemed to consider him their leader. “Laird Ross has been a kind host and I trust him. I will go and see what the Maclean wants. Remain here. I will send word.”

“I can assure ye that my brother is not inclined to turn ye away,” Stuart informed the men. “Ye have posed no threat to our clan and we hold ye in high esteem.”

The men seemed to take in what he said, but still exchanged looks as if considering whether to flee or remain. Stuart did not blame them.

As they rode toward the keep, Lennox gave Stuart a curious look. “Who came with the Maclean?”

“Just the small contingent of warriors. There are four bìrlinns. Two men remained with each one.”

Lennox frowned. “Ye were with yer brother? Ye know what was said?”

“Nay, I was on the ridge a distance away. I could not hear anything.” He did not mention that Artair had heard the conversation.

“But yet ye could see everything so clearly?”

Stuart shrugged. “I have very good eyesight.”

They rode a bit longer before Lennox spoke.

“Ye and the laird look nothing alike.” Lennox seemed eager to make conversation. It was probable he was nervous about what awaited.

“Darach is son to my father’s first wife. The rest of us are sons to his second wife, except for Caelan, who is bastard born.”

“I see,” Lennox said. “Yer brother Caelan comes often and gives us work.”

“Aye, I am aware,” Stuart said. “He has a lot of land to maintain around his house. I am glad that ye and yer men have been able to earn a living.”

The warrior was quiet for a few minutes. “Five of my men wish to work as Laird Ross’ guards. Do ye think it will be possible?”

Stuart understood the need to find work doing what one knew best. He would always prefer to be an archer over anything else. “Let us see how this visit goes and then we can speak to my brother.”

The man nodded and let out a sigh. “I do not understand why the Maclean would wish for us to return. There is nothing to be gained from men who are not loyal to the one in charge.”

“It could be a matter of pride?”

Lennox nodded. “Aye, perhaps.”

Upon arriving at the keep and stowing Lennox in a room near the maid’s quarters, Stuart went to seek out his eldest brother.

Darach and the Maclean were in the great room. It seemed the hospitality portion of the visit continued.

When Stuart walked closer, Darach motioned to him. “This is Stuart, third-born son.”

The Maclean looked to him with disinterest, but he managed a nod and a slight lift to the corners of his lips. If Stuart was to guess between a smile and a sneer, he would guess the latter.

Upon closer inspection, he saw the man’s gray hair was actually quite thin. It was more likely his scalp Stuart had seen shining in the sunlight earlier, as it was showing between the limp strands of remaining hair that for whatever reason the man chose to wear long, hanging well past his chin. There was also a yellowing to the Maclean’s skin that told of failing health. At the same time, by the narrowed eyes and pinched brow, he fought to not show the pain he was in.

Stuart recognized the gleam in the Maclean’s eyes. He should, he’d seen it often enough in his late father’s gaze. It could be that the man was not there so much for the men who he called traitors, but to see what he could gain as recompense for what he considered an insult.

When he met Darach’s gaze, it was obvious his brother saw it as well.

The Maclean had not brought his wife, nor did any other women accompany him. Therefore, Isobel, Darach’s wife, and the other women of the keep were not present. Instead, the long tables in the great room were filled with the warriors who’d come with the laird. The men ate and drank, speaking in low tones. From their wariness, the Maclean must have warned them to be on guard, or something of the like.

To ensure the family was well protected, Darach had stationed his guardsmen—double the number the Maclean had brought—throughout the hall. Some sat at tables, separate from the other clan, with their own tankards and platters of bread and cheese to share, while other warriors were on duty guarding the entrance. Further assurance was provided by Darach’s personal attendants, who stood at his back.

Stuart reluctantly went to the high board and sat next to a man who’d accompanied the Maclean. The man looked to be close to his own age of two and thirty. Unlike the Maclean, this man had the bored look of someone who wished to be anywhere but there.