Chapter Nine

Ella tightened the front ties of her stays and slid a green gown over her head. It had a simple bodice of soft, thin wool and curved low to expose the edge of her white smock.

Challenge accepted. Cain’s words from the night before slid around in her mind. Getting her to wed him and gaining a solid hold on Dunrobin Castle was only a challenge to the legendary horseman of conquest.

“Damn Sinclair,” she murmured. And damn her girlhood memories of his kind smile.

She lifted Boo to her face to stare into her sweet eyes. “Even if I told Cain about Jamie, he wouldn’t care. He was raised to conquer lands and people and would still capture Sutherland lands. He is hollow inside,” she said. The kitten sniffed, her little white nose scrunching before she meowed as if in agreement. His kindness last night to the horse and foal showed he had enough heart to care for animals, but so had Ella’s father, a father who didn’t hesitate when exacting brutal punishment on people.

She set Boo down and walked to the window that she’d pried open with one of the daggers she’d taken. The crowd in the bailey below moved in a wide mass to enter the great hall. Today, the clan was coming to swear allegiance to Cain, their new chief.

Rap. Rap. “Ella, the taking of oaths ceremony is going on below.” It was Hannah, and Ella opened the door. Boo instantly dodged past her legs to go out.

Ella’s stomach growled with disappointment. “From your empty hands, I suppose I need to come below if I do not want to starve.”

Hannah smiled. “I think that is Cain’s intention.”

Ella stepped out and shut the door behind her. “Does your brother actually think that I will join in swearing allegiance to him?”

Hannah walked with her to the top of the dimly lit stairs. “I do not know. All of my brothers are very cunning. It would be best for you not to answer any questions down there then,” she whispered as if she conspired with Ella. Maybe she could be turned to help her escape.

“Do you like living here at Girnigoe?” Ella asked as they continued down the steps.

“Aye, although I know nothing else. My father kept me hidden, so I would like to step out, perhaps attend festivals. I hear they are great fun.”

The poor girl had never had the freedom to do anything. Where Ella hadn’t been able to escape her father’s notice, Hannah hadn’t been able to escape her father’s denial of her existence.

“Do you believe in the legend of the horsemen?” Ella asked as they turned the tight corners, her fingers sliding along the rough granite wall. Hannah was two steps lower than her.

“I certainly did as a girl, with my whole heart. But now that Da has passed, I have room to consider.” In the light from a sconce, Ella saw her shrug, the movement somehow ethereal. She glanced back. “My brothers bleed just like other men.”

Coming to the bottom of the stairs, they stepped out under the archway into the great hall where rows of silent men stood. With so many inside, it was no wonder that the motionless air held the tang of sweat, horses, and woodsmoke.

Cain stood straight and tall before a throne-like chair by the unlit hearth with the crossed swords of his ancestors and the Sinclair family crest over the mantel. All three brothers stood to the side of him in order of birth, the four of them directly in front of the horsemen tapestry as if to remind everyone who they were.

Joshua held a huge sword and wore an ancient-looking helmet. Gideon held a set of balances, his sword strapped to his side, and Bàs… Bàs wore all black, including his kilt, a great horned helmet, and his human-skull mask. He held his lethal scythe by his side.

Cain wore the polished steel crown and held his bow over one shoulder and a massive sword in his hand. Fierce and royal, the sight made a shiver run through her.

Most of the gazes from around the room shifted to her as she entered. Did the Sinclair warriors hate her for killing their chief? Ella felt a tug on her sleeve and followed Hannah to the back of the crowd where a table held a plate of thick bacon, fragrant bread, and a small slice of butter stamped with the head of a horse.

“I, Gregory Sinclair, swear on my life to battle for and with the sons of Sinclair and pledge my allegiance to Cain Sinclair, fifth Earl of Caithness and chief of Clan Sinclair.” The man’s voice boomed out as if he wished for the angels in Heaven to hear him. He was bent on his knee before Cain. With his sword in his hand, Cain looked like he might lop off his head. It was as if the man holding the newborn foal last night had been replaced with a darker version, one devoid of softness of any kind. Which was the real Cain?

The man up front remained on his one knee. “My sword is your sword,” he said, his voice strong with conviction. He thumped a fist against his chest over his heart as he rose, nodded to all four Sinclair brothers and returned to his place in the crowd as the next warrior stepped forward.

Kenneth had orchestrated a similar oath-taking ceremony for her after she’d passed the tests thrown out to her by various men in the ranks. Her friend and steward must be worried about her. Would Cain let her send word that she was at least alive?

She chewed slowly, as a nervous man came forward to swear his allegiance. Cain gave no indication of softness or care. He was completely the cold-blooded lord of conquest.

Hannah leaned in to her ear. “They are near the end. These things take hours.”

“I had the same ceremony as chief of the Sutherlands.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, her eyes widening a bit. Ella could almost see the questions forming behind her eyes. But for a woman who’d been treated as inferior and invisible, it was no doubt an incomprehensible concept. “I forgot,” Hannah said. “It is so odd to think of a woman as the chief.”

“How about a queen? Like the powerful one sitting right now on the throne of England?”

Hannah nodded, her cheeks pink. “Aye, ye are right. It is just so different here at Girnigoe.”

Ella ducked her head to meet her downcast eyes. “You can be free of the legend now. Even leave Girnigoe if you wish. Who knows, perhaps all four of your brothers will die in battle, and you will become the chief.”

A bubble of laughter came from Hannah, and she held her fingertips over her mouth.

A Sinclair hurried down the narrow aisle to Cain, talking close to his ear. “Aye,” Cain answered, and the man hurried away. Cain stood up from his seat, sword in hand. From the doorway came two men, striding in side by side.

Ella nearly dropped her milk and stood. “Kenneth,” she whispered. Good Lord. Her advisor was walking into the holding of their fiercest enemy, no doubt looking for her.

She blinked back the pressure of tears when she noticed that he wore the spectacles that she’d brought him from Edinburgh after her father’s death, having journeyed there to hand deliver the letter about the succession of the Sutherland clan. Kenneth caught her movement, his face snapping her way, a look of relief mixed with anger tightening his weathered face.

The other man was half Kenneth’s age and wore the colors favored by the Mackays. Randolph Mackay, Hew’s advisor, caused a shiver to tease Ella’s nape.

They stopped before Cain. “Chief Sinclair, I am Randolph Mackay, councel to our chief, Hew Mackay, who is still locked in your dungeon. With the change of power into your hands, I come to request his release.”

Cain’s gaze was severe. His hard, intelligent eyes seemed to take in everything. The short beard that he’d begun to grow couldn’t hide the granite set of his jaw, his mouth hard and unforgiving. At that moment, he looked like he could unleash God’s wrath on them all. Ella’s heart sped with her worry. Would he kill Kenneth right here? I won’t allow it. She edged closer to the center aisle.

“Have ye brought the two wagons filled with grain that is the price for his freedom?” Cain asked, his voice deceptively low. “A fair price to pay for the oat field to which he and his men set fire?”

“Our grain has not yet been harvested.”

“Then your chief will live in our dungeon until it is.”

“Is he even alive?” Randolph asked, contempt in his voice. “We have been told that he is fed only salted beef and no drink.”

“He meant to burn our grain, so he deserves no bread,” Cain said.

“And nothing to drink?”

“The price one pays for crossing a Sinclair,” Cain said, making Ella swallow hard. The quiet cruelty in his words reminded her of her father. Her hands clasped together before her chest as if to ward off the specter.

Joshua crossed his arms. “The bloody thief deserves nothing at all.”

“Ye give him only salted beef to prolong his agony,” Randolph said.

“Would ye rather he be dead?” Bàs asked, his scythe swinging from one shoulder to the other. The blade caught the air, humming softly, a murmured petition to be unleashed.

Randolph glared. “For all I know, he is. I need to see that he is truly alive.”

Cain pointed to one of his warriors, who hurried off.

Ella stood close enough to see the strain in the familiar lines of Kenneth’s face. “The Sutherlands have spare grain,” her advisor said. “The Mackays have come to us to borrow it to repay their debt to the Sinclairs.” Only desperation for her release would make Kenneth work with the Mackays now that her father wasn’t demanding she marry Hew, joining their clans to work together against the Sinclairs.

“Very gracious of ye,” Cain said, his narrowed gaze sliding to Ella and back to Kenneth. “Is this payment approved by your chief?” Of course not, and Cain knew it. Ella had been locked up at Girnigoe.

“With her absence, I am the acting chief,” Kenneth said. “And I have approved it. But only if Arabella Sutherland, chief of the Sutherland Clan, is set free with the chief of the Mackays.”

“Ella Sutherland is free to go,” Cain said, his gaze centered on Kenneth. “The moment she vows to be my wife until the day she dies and signs a document giving over Dunrobin and Sutherland lands.”

Silence enveloped the hall, and her breath sounded loud in her ears. She was merely a pawn in Cain’s bloody game. Why would her foolish heart ever think otherwise?

Gazes turned toward her, and a flush rose in her cheeks. Cain continued to stare at Kenneth. “I have agreed to nothing,” she said, her voice strong in the stagnant room.

Randolph Mackay turned his little black eyes to her, his face devoid of emotion. She remembered those piercing eyes lurking in the shadows when she visited Varrich Castle with her father during the marriage discussions. “Ye agreed to wed Hew Mackay, a betrothal before God.”

A hushed murmur of discontent snaked through the crowd. If she were betrothed to someone else, Cain could not marry her in the eyes of God or the Crown. A betrothal was an official contract. Despite Hew’s forceful courtship and bruising kisses, she had managed to escape that noose.

She kept her gaze and voice unwavering. “My father, Alec Sutherland, agreed I should marry your chief,” she said. Just looking at Randolph made her fingers clench. “He was killed, and I broke the betrothal contract, paying your clan the betrothal price of ten horses, three wagons of grain, ten sheep, including a pregnant ewe, and three bolts of silk. The price was paid, and the contract was severed, legally and before the eyes of God. Feel free to refresh your memory with Pastor John, who presided over the payment.”

Cain stepped forward with the power and might of ice hurtling down from a mountain. He stopped before Randolph Mackay. “We will take those three wagons of grain in payment for your foolish chief’s crime.”

Randolph’s gaze snapped back to him. “Ye said two wagons of grain.”

“It has risen to three. Wait another week, and it will be four. I tire of the man stinking up my dungeon.”

“We will pay three wagons of grain for the release of Ella Sutherland,” Kenneth called out.

“And Hew Mackay,” Randolph added quickly.

Cain’s gaze connected with Kenneth. “No amount of grain, horseflesh, or gold will win back Ella Sutherland. She is my prize from the battle that took my father’s life. The Sinclairs will conquer Sutherland Clan once and for all. It can be done peacefully with a wedding or violently through war. Either way, I will conquer your clan.”

Anger shot heat into Ella’s cheeks. His prize? The Sinclairs will conquer Sutherland Clan. Cain’s words slashed through Ella’s calm. Her fists clenched as she glared at his profile.

“Then ye thirst for war,” Kenneth said, his voice as hard as his eyes, and he drew his sword.

“Here, here!” Joshua rubbed his hands together, a dark grin on his face.

Two of Cain’s warriors grabbed Kenneth, quickly disarming him, his sword clattering to the stone floor.

Damn them! Ella ran forward, but Cain’s warrior, Keenan, stepped before her. She dodged, but more men slid between her and Kenneth, barring her way.

Gideon’s voice rose over the crowd. “We have been at war since Alec Sutherland dishonored our clan by mistreating and divorcing Merida Sinclair.” He stepped to the side where Ella could see that he held the scales so that they dipped back and forth on either side, finally leveling out.

Gideon looked toward where Kenneth was restrained. “But if Chief Sutherland weds the new Chief Sinclair, bloodshed can end with the unifying of our clans. Our warriors will train together under the best horsemen and swordsmen in Scotland. And…ye will not feel a blade twisting in your middle.”

Would Cain impale Kenneth right there in the great hall before his men?

Gideon set a coin on one side of the scales, making the pan dip down. “Tradespeople from both clans will learn from and trade with one another.” He added a coin to the other side, making it balance evenly. “The land will become settled, with our Mackay neighbors knowing that we are united and will not tolerate more attacks on our outlying farms.” Coin to the first side. “The combination of Sutherland and Sinclair clans will bring peace and balance to Dunrobin Castle and Sutherland lands, perhaps to all of northern Scotland.”

The last coin evened out the scales once more, bringing them into perfect balance.

Cain’s voice rang out. “I will wed Ella Sutherland and lead both Sutherland and Sinclair clans together. They will act and live as one.”

Ella knew Kenneth would not agree. Twelve years of planning and preparation, a journey to Edinburgh to present their case to King James, and the future strength of Sutherland Clan still being guarded by Ella would not allow for the combining of the clans. But Cain knew none of this, because she had sworn to keep her mother’s secret.

Kenneth’s voice called out with anger. “I would speak with my chief before consenting.”

Cain’s hard face turned toward her, but before he could deny or consent, Hew Mackay’s voice called out. “I declare war on Clan Sinclair.”

Ella backed up to better see.

Large and broad, Hew’s shorn hair was thick with dirt. His vicious face contorted in anger as he walked into the hall next to the Sinclair warrior who’d gone to collect him. Filth clung to him from living in the dungeon, but he still had his ridiculous swagger as he stomped forward. He didn’t look as if he were dying of thirst. “Ella Sutherland and I are betrothed, so her fight is my fight.”

Holy Mother Mary. “We have already gone over this, Chief Mackay,” Ella said, grabbing her skirt to hurry around the crowd of men to the front where Cain and his brothers stood. She tried not to wrinkle her nose over Hew’s horrible odor.

She looked to Cain as she spoke. “As the new chief, I broke the betrothal contract my father had signed without my consent. We have paid the forfeiture price, with Pastor John present.” She turned her gaze on Hew. “And I will not wed you.”

“But ye will wed him?” Hew threw his thick, dirt-smeared arm out toward Cain, a sneer on his face, a scraggly beard making him look even more like a wild man. The Mackay chief had always been thick and squat, his furrowed brows and piercing eyes giving him a scoundrel’s look.

Thank you, God, for saving me from wedding him.

She’d thwarted most of his clumsy advances, although his brutality had been tempered by his idea of charm, believing she would wed him soon enough and be at his mercy.

“I have not agreed to wed any man,” she said, holding firm against the storm of rage growing in his crimson face.

Hew stood taller, his voice ringing out over the hall of men. “Arabella Sutherland and I are already wed in the eyes of God.”

A deep murmur rose from the witnesses in the room, their discontent and censure rising into the rafters. Fury shot up inside Ella. Did the idiot think she didn’t know what happened between a man and woman to consummate a marriage? Or did he consider her the docile girl he remembered under Alec Sutherland’s reign of terror? He was delusional if he thought their few uncomfortable kisses bound them together.

“You lying bastard,” she said, her words thick with disgust.

Hew’s words rang out. “I challenge the banns that have been posted for their unholy union, for we have joined together carnally if not yet by a cleric.”

“Lies,” she said, stepping before him. Her nose curled at the smell of human waste wafting off him, and she tugged free the dagger she’d secreted up her sleeve. With an underhand flick of her wrist, she pricked the point into the soft divot between his chin and Adam’s apple. “Speak another, and you will speak no more.” A drop of blood swelled out to snake down under his torn, filthy tunic.

“If she kills him, the Mackays will war with the Sutherlands and the Sinclairs,” Randolph said quickly.

Bàs stepped before Randolph, hefting his scythe. “Or I can kill ye here without a single Mackay learning about your puny threat.”

The surprise on Hew’s face made her think that she was right about him foolishly wagering that she was docile, even though she’d kneed him in the ballocks when he’d groped her with his meaty paws at Varrich last autumn.

“I have not, in any way, married you, Hew Mackay,” Ella said from between clenched teeth. “Despite your brutish tricks to catch me alone, you have won nothing from me but my disdain and several clumsy kisses, you bloody leasing-monger.”

His lips pulled back. “Yet ye stand here, a Sutherland, clean, fed, and armed. Are ye whoring for him then? Him or perhaps all four Sinclair brothers?”

“Cain, wait,” Gideon said. But he didn’t.

Cain surged forward, his fist slamming directly into Hew’s face above her dagger. Crack!

Ella yanked back her blade as Hew dropped to his knees on the floor, blood gushing from his nose. “Shite,” he said, the curse pinched with pain.

“Never,” Cain said, his words snapping with rage, “speak of Ella Sutherland that way again. Or in any way to her again.” He loomed over the arse. “Drag him back to the dungeon.” Cain spun on his heel to stare at Randolph Mackay. “And the price for his release is now the entire betrothal price that Ella Sutherland paid for breaking the contract.”

Randolph Mackay swore, jerking his vest as if it had become crooked.

“I can execute both Mackays now,” Bàs said. His voice matched the lethal promise of the skull helmet, making him look like death incarnate.

“Damn brother,” Joshua said, hefting his sword. “Ye get all the fun.”

Gideon stepped up beside Cain, who still clenched his hands at his side before Randolph and Kenneth. “Bàs can execute Hew Mackay today,” Gideon said to Randolph. “We will consider the Mackay penalty for burning our fields paid with his head.”

On cue, Bàs whipped his scythe through the air, the blade humming, his bare arm bulging under the weight. Randolph glanced around him as if contemplating the suggestion. Would he condemn his chief to death before so many witnesses? Word would get back to the Mackay clan. “Damn,” he said. “Keep him alive. We will gather the payment.”

Randolph pivoted on his heel, pausing to slice his gaze along Ella. His small, dark eyes sent another chill to slither up her spine, but then he strode down the aisle made by the parting Sinclair warriors, leaving Kenneth alone at the front.

Cain’s hard gaze moved to her advisor. “Ye may leave, without your chief.” Could Cain believe Hew’s lies? Hew probably didn’t even realize she’d saved his life by denying it. All Cain had to do to release her from a marriage bond was to kill the groom.

“I will petition the king for her release,” Kenneth said, no fear in his voice or face, just strength and conviction. “James will see it done or send his five thousand troops to strip the Sinclairs of their lands.”

Cain studied Kenneth, seeming to weigh the chances that the man was bluffing. “My instincts, which are always right, tell me that there is more to this refusal than mere stubbornness.” His words were lower but still held fury. Ella met his gaze when he turned. Curiosity warred with anger in his eyes, like when he’d stared up at her in the tree, and she kept her emotionless mask in place.

When no one said anything, Cain continued. “My contact at Dunrobin, years ago, did not paint Arabella Sutherland as a young woman determined to rule her clan. Yet now she would rather die than allow me to rule it without bloodshed.” Damn his instincts.

“Do not kill her!” Kenneth yelled, ferocity in his command.

“I have denied her that choice.” Cain’s brows narrowed as he looked between them.

Kenneth’s shoulders rounded slightly, as if he’d been standing ready to battle his way to her if Cain ordered her execution. Angry tears ached behind Ella’s eyes. She hated how her capture was tormenting her loyal friend.

“Escort this Sutherland advisor out of Girnigoe,” Cain said. “And the rest of ye are dismissed.”

“A word with her first,” Kenneth said. “To make certain she is being treated well.”

“Quickly,” Cain said. The two guards near Kenneth took a step back, but it still wouldn’t be a private conversation.

Ella hurried forward, and Kenneth caught her in his arms, holding her tightly. “Tell Jamie I am treated well.”

“Listen to me,” Kenneth whispered at her ear, his body trembling with controlled rage. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she could tell from his voice that they held conviction. “If ye cannot escape with your life or your virtue…wed him.”

She held tightly to Kenneth as if giving him a long hug, but it was more to keep herself from falling over. He would have her surrender Dunrobin? “But Cain will take—” Ella started.

Kenneth’s words came as a tortured whisper, harsh and succinct in her ear. “Wed him, Ella, and kill him.”