Page 50 of Steel & Surrender

The brothers sat at a table in the corner, tall tankards of ale at their elbows and steaming mutton pies before them.

Never had a meal tasted so good. Greig finished his pie when Davy was still halfway through his and ordered another.

And then, once their bellies were full, they moved to the center table and joined a rowdy game of knucklebones with a group of merchants.

One of them—a man of Greig’s age called Seumas Macleod from Dunvegan—got interested once he discovered that they were Macleans of Duart.

“I heard of the trouble between Callum MacDonald and yer father,” Seumas said, while they waited their turn to cast the knucklebones.

“Aye,” Greig replied, casting the man a sidelong look.

Of course, as a Macleod of Dunvegan, he would have little love for any MacDonald of Sleat. Nonetheless, the man was a stranger, and as such, Greig was wary of him.

“I ferry grain from the mainland to Skye regularly,” Seumas went on. “I’ve dropped supplies off at Craignure a few times too.”

Davy flashed him a smile. “Aye, our clans have been friends for a while now … we look out for each other.”

Indeed, Loch Maclean had worked hard to keep good relations with the Macleods of Dunvegan. And they’d come to his aid in the Battle of Dounarwyse—something he’d never forgotten.

“Aye, we do,” Seumas replied with a nod. “And that’s why I have news to share with ye.”

He leaned in, although the noise around the table—as two of the men opposite started arguing over one of their last throws—made it a good moment to speak without being overheard. “I was drinking at The Baited Creel last night,” Seumas went on. “Heard some MacDonalds talking between themselves. They didn’t know I was a Macleod … and I kept my mouth shut.”

Greig nodded. The Baited Creel was a notoriously rough tavern—one to avoid if one wanted a quiet night. And because Greig and Davy just wished to eat, drink, and celebrate their success, they had done just that.

“Well, it seems that MacDonald was bealin’ when he left Dùn Ara last year. He was sure Bran Mackinnon would ally himself with him.”

Davy harrumphed. “Well, he miscalculated, didn’t he?”

“Don’t think this is over,” Seumas said, his voice lowering. “It’s not.”

“What do ye mean?” Greig asked, his belly tightening.

The earnestness in Seumas Macleod’s eyes made his gut clench. The man wasn’t playing with them. His warning was in earnest.

“They were talking about how they’d recruited more men,” the merchant replied. “More allies. The MacDonalds of Dunnyveg. A marriage alliance between MacDonald’s daughter and the chieftain of Dunnyveg’s son.”

Greig stilled, suddenly losing all interest in the game of knucklebones, which had now resumed. Soon it would be his turn, but that wasn’t his focus anymore. “Anything else?”

Seumas hesitated, his gaze flicking around the table to ensure no one was listening in on their conversation. “Aye. They’re planning an attack … to hit yer clan where it hurts.”

Greig leaned closer. “Where?”

Seumas held his gaze, his expression grave now. “Moy Castle.”

Cresting the hill, Greig reined Tàirneanach in and surveyed the fortress below. Woodland hugged Moy Castle’s rear while Loch Buie glittered beyond in the summer light. It was a warm afternoon, yet unease prickled along his skin.

He wouldn’t be able to relax until he’d delivered this company of warriors to his friend.

Moy was in Callum MacDonald’s sights, but it wouldn’t stand unprotected.

Greig twisted in the saddle, his gaze sweeping over the thirty warriors who’d traveled with him from Duart. Most of them were on foot, heavy schiltrons braced against their shoulders as they walked, dirks swinging from their hips.

Greig’s gaze lingered briefly upon the youngest among them, judging fatigue, discipline, readiness.

As marshal, it had been his job to ready these men and escort them to Moy.

The past month had vanished in drills, weapons inspections, and long days upon the training field. He’d barely seen Brìghde at all—his preparations for climbing Ben More and the Games had come to a halt for the moment.