Highlander's Wicked Game: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Novel Read online

  “The Clan Campbell has nae honor,” Robert spat on the ground in disgust.

  “Ye desire someone tae blame, but my family are no’ the ones who did this. I swear tae ye upon all that is holy that we did no’ do this.”

  “How do we ken that ye are no’ lyin’ tae us tae save yer own skin? Ye ken well enough that my brother and I would gladly take yer head here and now, Campbell scum,” Robert threatened.

  Marra stepped between her clansmen and Duncan. “Ye will no’ do anythin’ o’ the kind. Duncan did no’ do this and we will no’ find out who did by standin’ here threatenin’ one another. The enemy is out there somewhere no’ standin’ here.”

  “Move out o’ the way, Marra. Ye dinnae ken the evil these Campbells are capable o’,” Robert moved to the side in an attempt to get around Marra.

  “Ye dinnae ken them at all, Robert MacDonald. All ye ken is what my faither ranted and raved about our entire lives. Ye dinnae ken anythin’ at all. Duncan’s family have been nothin’ but kind tae me, showin’ us hospitality and compassion when they did no’ have tae do so. My faither is dead and with him the anger and the hatred. I will no’ let his death be in vain. We will find who did this, but we will no’ be able tae do so if ye slaughter our only ally.”

  “Mayhap, but it would make me feel better,” Liam admitted, sneering at Duncan, his eyes roaming from his head to his toes as if he were judging the best place to stab him with his sword.

  Duncan stopped moving, took Marra by the shoulders, and placed her behind him. She was not sure what he planned to do. “Do what ye will, lads. I refuse tae spend the rest o’ my life lookin’ o’er my shoulder waitin’ for ye tae attack me in retaliation for an atrocity I did no’ commit. Let us settle this now and be done with it.”

  Both men looked startled. “Ye ken we would kill ye in battle?” Robert pointed out.

  “Aye,” Duncan nodded his head.

  “Will ye no’ draw yer sword?” Liam asked gesturing toward the weapon.

  “Nae, I will no’.”

  “Why would ye be so foolish?”

  “I will no’ kill the last remainin’ family that Marra has e’en tae save my own life.”

  Both of the MacDonald brothers stepped back with a puzzled look on their faces. Marra wanted to hit Duncan for being so reckless with his own life. “I cannae believe ye would do such a thing,” she whispered from behind him.

  “I will no’ be responsible for takin’ them away from ye,” Duncan replied, not taking his eyes off of Robert and Liam.

  The brothers lowered their swords and stared at him in wonder. “If ye will no’ kill us tae save yer own life for the love o’ a MacDonald, then I cannae believe that ye would have any part in this,” Liam replied, the hatred gone from his eyes. In its place was a new found respect.

  Marra’s head spun from one emotion to another. She was filled with sorrow and anger over the loss of her family, relieved that her clansmen had not killed Duncan, and terrified that she was all alone in the world with the people who had done this still out there to continue their reign of terror whenever they wished. “How are we tae bury all o’ these people? Where will we live?” She felt so very lost.

  “Ye will come and live with me, all o’ ye.”

  “Duncan, I…”

  “Ye will be safe under my faither’s protection. Nae one will dare tae harm ye if my family has anythin’ tae say about it. We will help ye tae find who did this, and I promise that ye will have yer revenge.”

  “Do ye swear it?” Liam MacDonald asked, stepping forward tears in his eyes replacing the anger. Marra could tell that the loss of everything they had ever known was getting to him.

  “I swear it. My people will come and help ye tae bury yer dead, as well as search for any survivors.”

  Marra could hear the words that were coming out of his mouth, but the world had begun to fade. The image of her dead faither’s charred face floated before her eyes once more as the world spun around her. The last thing she remembered was hearing Duncan’s voice calling her name.

  Chapter Ten

  “Marra!” Duncan scooped her up before she hit the ground. “We need tae take her back to the castle.” Duncan carried Marra back to the boat, Robert and Liam following close behind. They pushed the boat back out onto the water and rowed as swiftly as they could. By the time they returned to the MacGregor stronghold darkness was falling. Lachlan met them in the courtyard taking in the soot covered trio of men and the unconscious lass in Duncan’s arms.

  “What has happened?” he demanded, grabbing Duncan’s reins.

  Duncan dismounted and lifted Marra from the saddle. “The MacDonalds on Jura were attacked. I dinnae ken if there are any survivors, but it does no’ look good.”

  “What are they doin’ here?” Lachlan demanded, glaring at the MacDonald warriors.

  “I have promised them aid in dealin’ with the dead, but for now we need tae provide them with a safe place tae rest. It has been a long and difficult day. They are our guests, Lachlan, and should be treated as such.”

  Lachlan spat on the ground in disgust but remained silent. Duncan carried Marra into the castle. His father sat in his chair by the fireplace. Since becoming ill, it had become his favorite spot to sit and rest. Upon seeing Duncan and Marra, he stood and met them at the stairs. “What has happened?”

  “The MacDonalds were attacked. Angus MacDonald is dead, along with most o’ his people.”

  “God in heaven! Poor lass.” His father’s face went pale. “I had nae love for the man, but I would ne’er wish such a terrible thing tae happen tae anyone, especially such a lass as yer dear Marra.”

  “I have promised her and her clansmen sanctuary here with us.”

  “O’ course, lad. They are welcome tae stay here with us. I will see tae her clansmen, while ye get her settled in. Was she hurt?”

  “She fainted.”

  “Poor lass.”

  Duncan nodded and carried her upstairs to his mother’s old room. He laid her upon the bed and removed her shoes. A maid entered the room with a pitcher of warm water. He dipped a cloth into the water upon the washstand and bathed the soot from her face. “I will change her clothes and clean her,” the maid offered.

  “Aye, thank ye, Mary.” Duncan left Marra in the maid’s capable hands and went back down the stairs to the great hall.

  He sat down in the chair across from his father. “Do ye think any o’ the Clan Campbell outside o’ our family could be responsible?”

  “I dinnae ken, my son. The MacDonalds and Campbells have a long standin’ hatred o’ one another just as we MacGregors do, but it could be any one o’ their enemies.”

  Lachlan joined them by the fireplace. “Did ye encounter any possible witnesses along the way? Anyone who could attest tae what transpired?”

  “Nae, when we arrived all were dead, a majority o’ them had died in the fire.” Duncan could not erase the image of their burnt corpses from his mind. “Only Marra, Robert, and Liam remain.”

  “Alive or dead they cannae remain here,” Lachlan protested angrily.

  “That is nae yer decision tae make,” the laird pointed out sternly. “Ye will treat our guests with the hospitality and respect befittin’ their station.”

  “How could ye agree tae take in the daughter o’ yer enemy?” Lachlan asked indignantly.

  “Angus MacDonald may have been my enemy, but he was also my ally and that lass upstairs is blameless o’ the sins o’ her faither. I raised ye tae hate the MacDonald laird, but he is now dead and with it so too dies our feud.”

  “I will nae have Marra suffer any more than she already has,” Duncan admonished his cousin, “nae matter how ye feel about her paternity.”

  Angry, Lachlan stormed from the room. “I take it my son disagrees with your choice of house guest, Fergus?” Duncan’s aunt, Fiona, entered the hall and came to sit down next to her brother.

  “Aye, he does at that,” Fergus nodded.

  “I cannae say
that I blame him after so many years o’ hatred and distrust,” Fiona remarked lifting an elegant brow.

  “Wait until ye meet her, Auntie. Ye will no’ feel so reticent once ye ken who Marra is,” Duncan reassured.

  “Ah, ye love her,” his aunt noted with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  Duncan smiled. “Aye, I do.”

  “Well if ye love her, nephew, then she must be a special lass indeed,” Fiona smiled knowingly.

  “Aye, she is.”

  “Word has spread around the castle verra quickly about what has happened. Do ye believe that we are in any danger o’ the same?” Fiona asked concerned. “Should I take the bairns back tae visit with my husband’s family?”

  “Nae, ye are safe here. Were the same tae happen tae us it would have happened when they took the MacDonalds. I have guards posted tae warn us o’ any approach. I dinnae believe us tae be in any danger, but I will be prepared for it if e’er it comes,” Fergus reassured his sister.

  “As ye say, Fergus. We will remain.” Turning to Duncan, Fiona smiled. “I look forward tae meetin’ yer lass upon the morrow.”

  “Ye will love her, Auntie.”

  “I am sure I will.” Fiona rose, kissed each man on the forehead, and left the room.

  “What are we goin’ tae do about Lachlan?” Duncan asked. “He is no’ goin’ tae accept the MacDonald’s presence easily.

  “Give him time. If nothin’ else, he will obey the word o’ his laird. He would no’ dare tae defy me openly,” his father advised. “Do ye intend tae wed the lass now that there is nothin’ in the way o’ yer happiness?”

  Duncan looked up at his father in surprise. “She needs time tae mourn the loss o’ her faither.”

  “O’ course, but a marriage alliance between our two clans does have its advantages. It would provide a safe home for Marra, and any remaining MacDonalds of Jura would no longer be a threat to us.”

  “When I wed Marra, it will be for the love of her and nae for any other reason. I ken that as the son o’ a laird it is my responsibility to marry well for the sake o’ the clan, but I will do so for love or no’ at all.”

  “Then it is convenient that ye love her is it no’?”

  Duncan sighed in exasperation at his father’s words. He had been greatly surprised by the laird’s acceptance of Marra. Now he began to see that it was not only love that prompted his congenial behavior, but that he had a political motive as well. “When I marry Marra, assumin’ she will have me, I will nae be the next laird o’ the Isle o’ Jura.”

  “We shall see.”

  The following morning, a select number of the MacGregor clan prepared to aid in the burial of the MacDonald deceased. Lachlan refused to render any form of aid to their enemies and left the castle before anyone else awoke. The remainder of the family met in the great hall to break the fast and discuss what could be done for any remaining MacDonald clansmen they might find upon their return to Jura. Marra joined them at the table, her face pale and drawn. Duncan made the introduction of his aunt and her children.

  “I am truly filled with sorrow for yer loss, lass,” his aunt, Fiona, sympathized. “Tae lose one’s entire family in such a way is tae terrible tae bear.”

  Marra nodded in acknowledgement, but remained silent other than the usual niceties. Duncan feared that her grief was crushing her from the inside outward. Her shoulders sagged from the weight of it. Her eyes were ringed with dark bruises, bloodshot from crying.

  “There will be survivors. It is unfathomable that they could have slaughtered an entire island o’ people,” Duncan pointed out in an effort to comfort her. He prayed his words were true. “Mayhap they will ken who has done this.”

  “I am more than willin’ tae take Marra in for yer sake son, but I will no’ go tae war if ye are seekin’ tae aid in revengin’ their deaths. I will no’ risk our own people.”

  “I mean tae protect those that remain and tae ensure that we are no’ tae be next.”

  His father nodded. “Only a fool would attempt tae take on a stronghold o’ the Clan Campbell.”

  “It was no’ that long ago that the same would have been said o’ the Clan MacDonald,” Liam MacDonald growled. “Were it no’ for ye Campbells.” He looked as if he wished to stab Fergus with his eating knife.

  “We had nae part in that,” Duncan reminded him.

  “Aye, but it was yer people, and we MacDonalds have long memories,” Robert MacDonald chimed in, backing his brother.

  “With Angus MacDonald dead there is nae longer a need for the bad blood between our two clans tae continue as it was afore,” Fergus stated, looking at Liam and Robert in turn. “The issue lay between Angus and I alone.”

  Duncan snorted indignantly before he could stop himself. “I dinnae believe it was quite that simple, Faither.”

  “I must agree with Duncan, Fergus,” Fiona replied. “And ye ken it well enough, but perhaps this is no’ the best topic o’ discussion given our current situation.”

  Marra looked at Fiona and nodded. “I thank ye for yer kindness.”

  “Ye are most welcome, lass.”

  Marra sat at the table looking around her, a part of everything and yet set apart by the grief that racked her soul, nearly debilitating her. The conversation ebbed and flowed around her, but all she could think about was her father’s lifeless face, blackened from the fire, staring up at her. She could not eat for the knot in her stomach but pushed the food around her trencher. A tear slipped down her cheek and splashed down upon the table. It took all of her strength not to scream and run from the room. She was angry, scared, lost.

  When it came time to return to Jura, Marra sat next to Duncan in the boat but did not speak. She was terrified to return to the scene of death and decay, but she owed it to her kinsmen to see them properly laid to rest. When they arrived, they found a small number of the remaining MacDonald survivors attempting to do the same. Upon seeing Diana, she cried out in relieved joy. “Diana!”

  “Marra!”

  The women rushed toward each other across the scorched earth and embraced, tears streaming down their faces. “I thought ye were dead,” Marra sobbed.

  “I almost was. I feared the worst for ye as well. Have the Campbells takin’ ye prisoner?” she asked, her eyes glaring at the Campbell warriors approaching the gruesome sight.

  “Nae. They have come tae aid in buryin’ our dead,” Marra reassured her.

  “The Campbells are the ones who did this,” Diana bit out, than spat on the ground in disgust.

  “That is no’ possible. Duncan Campbell is the one who saved me. His faither has agreed tae take us under his protection. If they were the ones who did this tae us then would they no’ have slaughtered us where we stand?”

  “The men were dressed in Campbell tartans. There is nae doubt in my mind that they are the ones who attacked us. We have already sent runners tae the other MacDonalds throughout the highlands and islands. Our people will be avenged. The Campbells will taste the metal o’ our clansmen’s blades.”

  “Diana, they did no’ do this.” Marra looked around her to find Duncan, but instead saw that she and Diana had been shielded by the remaining survivors of Jura.

  “Have your people no’ done enough? Have ye returned tae finish those o’ us that remain?” A man stepped forward, sword in hand, shouting accusations. Marra recognized him as Diana’s brother, Ian.

  “We did no’ do this,” Duncan protested, raising his hand to stop his own men from reacting to Ian’s threatening posture.

  “I saw ye with my verra own eyes,” Diana stepped forward challenging his denial. “Yer men came in the night and slaughtered everyone in their beds. Had I no’ been returnin’ late from a visit with my brother’s family, I would be lyin’ there next tae our laird. As it is, ‘twas one o’ yer men who hit me on the head and left me for dead. Yer Campbell tartan was on display for all tae see. Ye cannae deny it.”

  “Duncan, they have called for the other MacDonalds tae avenge the atta
ck. Ye must warn yer faither afore it is tae late!” Marra warned him of the coming danger, shouting over the top of her people’s heads.

  “Nae! Ye Duncan Campbell will die by my hand, here and now, for what ye have done tae our people,” Ian roared, taking a step forward, sword raised.

  “Nae! I will no’ allow ye tae harm any o’ these men. They have come in good faith tae aid us in burying our dead. They have offered us protection within their walls. Ye are wrong tae think that any o’ them could have done this evil deed,” Marra spoke with fierce passion, begging her people to listen before further harm was done.

  “How can ye speak so o’ our enemies when yer faither lies burnin’ afore yer verra eyes. Do ye no' still smell the stench o’ his burnin’ flesh in yer nostrils?” Ian questioned her angrily.