BRODICK WAS IN WHOLEHEARTED AGREEMENT WITH COLM. If given the opportunity, he, too, would kill the bastards who had attacked Liam. The MacHughs were the Buchanans’ allies, and their enemies were, therefore, the Buchanans’ enemies as well. Over a year ago, Brodick had ventured into dangerous English territory on a mission to help his wife. The MacHughs had come to the Buchanans’ aid then, and it was now the Buchanans’ turn to reciprocate.

The MacHugh was a loner, though. He refused to acknowledge the benefit of having anyone other than his own clan fight by his side. Brodick used to feel the same way, and it had nearly taken a war with England to change his attitude. He now recognized the value of these ties, and he considered not only MacHugh but the Maitlands and the Sinclairs, two of the most powerful clans in the Highlands, his closest allies. These lairds had also become Brodick’s good friends.

The two men did not speak for most of the ride back to the abbey. Then, urging his horse alongside Colm’s, Brodick asked, “Do you know how I met my wife?”

An odd question, Colm thought. “She was bringing Laird Ramsey Sinclair’s brother home to him,” he replied.

“That’s right. The boy was only five or six at the time. One of the men in the Sinclair clan thought he should have been named laird over Ramsey. He conspired to take over the clan, and he used the boy to draw Ramsey into the open with the intent of killing him.”

“Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Perhaps Liam was taken for the same purpose. To draw you out.”

“Perhaps, twice now in the past month my soldiers protecting my border have been ambushed.”

“Did you lose any men?”

MacHugh was insulted by the question. “Of course not. My warriors are trained to expect the unexpected.”

“And the men who attacked?”

“Unfortunately, none lived long enough to tell me who sent them, but they were not Highlanders.”

“Outcasts then? Looking to steal what they could?”

He shook his head. “You heard what Liam told us. The orders were to kill as many MacHughs as possible. Outcasts would not be so organized. They thrive on chaos, and like rats they steal and run.”

“’Tis the truth you speak,” Brodick said. “Ramsey’s brother was but a child, but Liam is a grown man. He is nearly as old as you are, is he not?”

“Five years younger but still full-grown.”

“Then why didn’t he expect the unexpected? He has been trained as well as the others.”

“I’ll be asking my brother that very question as soon as he recovers his wits.”

“Whoever is behind these attacks wants to be rid of all the MacHughs, then?”

“So it would seem.”

“Finney’s Flat. That’s what these attacks are about.”

“Aye,” Colm answered. “MacKenna’s behind this. I’m sure of it.”

“But you have no proof.”

“MacKenna is a greedy man. He wants the land for himself, and I’m not going to let him have it. I could not abide having any of the MacKennas any closer to my border. The flats have always been our planting fields, and also a buffer between the MacKennas and us.”

“King John was gifted the land by our king years ago. He owns it until the woman he has chosen marries Laird Monroe. She brings Finney’s Flat as her dowry.”

“I am aware of this pact.”

“Yes, but are you aware that this woman is from my wife’s family. Her father is Baron Geoffrey of Wellingshire.”

“You admit to having English relatives?”

“Reluctantly, I admit it. I have become more lenient in my opinions, for if you will remember, my wife used to be English.”

“It doesn’t matter to me what she is.”

“Can you abide having the Monroe clan to look down on from your mountain?”

“What about you?” Colm countered. “Can you abide having them so close? The Buchanans border Finney’s Flat on the west.”

“Aye, but we have a forest of trees between us.”

“I have no grudge against the Monroes. As long as their laird doesn’t interfere when we plant the fields on the north end of the flat, I won’t mind his presence.”

They’d reached the top of the hill above the abbey and could see the crowd of tents to the south.

“Those tents belong to the English,” Brodick said.

“They cannot all be here for Monroe’s wedding, unless your English relatives invited them.”

“Not this number,” Brodick answered. “Monroe wouldn’t want them here, either. Nay, there must be another celebration at the abbey.”

Once down the hill, they passed off their horses to Braeden and Dylan.

“Be on guard,” Colm said as they walked to the gates.

“I’m always on guard,” Brodick assured him. He pulled the rope to ring the bell. A moment later, a priest opened the massive wooden door.

The abbot, a shiny little man, who from the size of his belly never missed a meal, motioned them forward. He had already jumped to his own conclusions as to why the two were there.

“You’ve come to offer your condolences, haven’t you?”

Before either laird could respond, the abbot continued, “You must be terribly disappointed to have missed the funeral mass, but with the unusually mild weather it was necessary for his family to take him home and put him in the ground as quickly as possible. Did you think you might speak to the family? A pity you missed them. Shall I show you to the chapel so you might pray for his soul?”

Colm and Brodick looked at each other, and then Colm turned to the abbot. Though addressing a man of God, he didn’t guard his words.

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

The abbot took a quick step back and patted his chest in an attempt to calm himself. He had lived a quiet, contemplative life in the monastery for years, and the excitement and turmoil of the last few days was taking its toll on his nerves.

“You don’t know? I just assumed…it’s Laird Monroe,” he rushed on when he saw the mean look in Laird MacHugh’s eyes. “He’s dead. Isn’t that why you came here? To express your sympathy?”

“Monroe’s dead?” Brodick was staggered by the priest’s announcement.

“How did he die?” Colm wanted to know.

The abbot lowered his voice when he answered. “He was murdered.” He paused to make the sign of the cross before adding, “Murdered he was, and in the black of night.”

“When did this happen?” Brodick asked.

“How was he murdered?” Colm asked at the same time.

The look in the lairds’ eyes frightened the abbot. Laird MacHugh seemed the more threatening of the two, angrier as well. The priest’s voice trembled as he gave his answers, but he could barely keep up with the rapidly fired questions from the two giants.

Colm noticed that every time he moved, the abbot flinched. He clasped his hands behind his back as a sign of trust, so the meek abbot would know he meant him no harm.

The abbot rushed to explain. “Here I was thinking you came all this way to pay your last respects, and it’s apparent you didn’t know about Laird Monroe’s tragic death. Now I see what has happened. I’ve misunderstood, haven’t I? I’m so sorry I greeted you with such sad news when it is clearly evident you have come here for a much more joyful occasion, the wedding.”

“How can there be a wedding if the groom has been murdered?” Brodick asked. He was beginning to think the abbot was missing part of his mind.

“Laird Monroe is no longer the groom…since he’s been murdered,” he hastily concluded.

“We’re not here about any wedding—or any funeral for that matter,” Colm said. “We’re here about my brother.”

The abbot responded with a quizzical look. “Your brother?”

Colm considered grabbing the man by his neck and shaking him but knew it wouldn’t be prudent to attack a man of God. From the abbot’s blank stare, it was apparent he knew nothing of Liam.

The abbot was sweating profusely. He wiped his wet hands down the sides of his robe. The laird’s eyes had turned a dark gray, the color of a brewing storm.

“Things have been happening so fast. We’re not used to this much activity in our monastery. Another match for Lady Gabrielle is just now being decided upon. It’s chaos.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Two barons from England are now in the great hall, each claiming to be speaking on King John’s behalf. A crowd of English is gathering in the commons. I recommend that you wait upstairs if you don’t want to become involved.”

“What are the barons fighting about?” Brodick asked.

“We need not concern ourselves with their petty squabbles,” Colm said. “Remember the reason we are here.” He addressed the abbot once again. “You have a priest here named Gelroy. I wish to speak to him as soon as possible.”

“May I inquire as to your reason for speaking to him?”

“You may not.”

The abbot was taken aback by the blunt denial. Then he nodded, thinking he understood why the laird had refused to explain. “Oh, I see. You wish to say your confession. I apologize. I shouldn’t have asked. Why don’t you go on upstairs, and I’ll send Father Gelroy to you. I believe I know just where he is. He’ll show you the way to the chapel so that you may rid yourself of your sins.”

Yet again the abbot had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but neither laird set him straight.

“It shouldn’t take any time at all,” he remarked, turning to lead them to the steps.

Brodick nodded his head toward Colm. “With his number of sins, I wouldn’t count on it.”

Colm was not amused. He shoved Brodick out of his way. “I’m not here for confession. I’m here for some answers about my brother. I just want to get this over and done with and get out of here. Perhaps I can convince Father Gelroy to come with us. I can’t think or breathe with this many English surrounding me.”

“I doubt Gelroy will want to leave with us. But you can ask,” Brodick said.

“Ask? Why would I ask?”

Brodick shrugged. Colm would do what he wanted regardless of how Brodick felt. Besides, Brodick may well have done the same had it been his own brother. Still, dragging a priest out of his sanctuary for the sole purpose of browbeating him into telling what he knew about Liam’s captors…and saviors…was probably going to blacken their battered souls a little more.

The abbot was so intent on overhearing their conversation he didn’t realize he’d reached the top of the wall surrounding the commons. Out of breath, he pointed. “Here we are.”

The abbot turned to go back downstairs and fetch Gelroy, but Brodick stopped him with a question.

“I’m curious, Abbot. Are Baron Geoffrey and his daughter still here, or have they started back to England?”

“Baron Geoffrey? You know these English?”

Brodick sighed. “It is an embarrassment to admit they are related…on my wife’s side,” he hastily added.

“It is still an embarrassment,” Colm remarked.

Brodick silently reminded himself that Colm was his ally. “I’ve never met the daughter,” he told the abbot.

The abbot replied, “The baron has left on a journey to meet with his king, and his daughter has been preparing to leave for England, but I believe she will be detained.”

“Why will she be detained?” Brodick asked.

“You don’t understand,” the abbot said. “All this chaos concerns the lady and whom she is to marry.”

“Is her father aware of this?” Brodick wondered.

“No. He left before the two barons came together.”

“And when is Baron Geoffrey expected to return?” Though the future of Lady Gabrielle was of no concern to Brodick, he felt a gnawing obligation.

“I doubt anyone has had time to send a messenger to her father. It’s as though the barons deliberately waited until he was away from the abbey before springing this marriage on his daughter. They’re both acting as though this is a most urgent matter. From what I’ve heard of their argument, they want her married before her father finds out and causes an upset.” Darting a glance to the left and then to the right he said, “Trickery. Aye, it’s trickery if you ask me. But the lady is protected by her guards and she is safe in our monastery. No harm will come to her while she is here.”

The naïve belief irritated Colm. The abbey was overrun with strangers, and most were English. How could he believe the likes of them would honor sanctuary? Even the priest Gelroy had had his doubts, for he had asked soldiers to guard Liam while he slept. Colm wondered what this jumpy abbot would think if he found out that Liam had been a guest here.

“Is Lady Gabrielle agreeable to a new match?” Brodick asked.

“She doesn’t know yet. They’ll call for her soon.” Shaking his head, the abbot sighed. “She’ll find out about this mischief when she answers their summons.”