Page 50 of Highland Steel

“I do,” he said. “The MacKeefes have had a streak of bad luck ever since. We were never able to retrieve the sword, and when we lost too many clan members, we stopped tryin’.”

“That is a horrible story,” said Rhoswen.

“And now ye see why I canna involve my clan. We’ve lost too much already, thanks to the Drummonds.”

“I’d think that would make you want to help me all the more. I never told my siblings, but on my father’s deathbed, all he cared about was revenge.”

“What do ye mean?”

“He never cared about Lockie. He told me with his dying breath to forget about the boy since he was only a bastard.”

“He really said that about his own grandson?”

“He did. He was so afraid of it hurting his reputation. He didn’t want anyone to know about the stableboy and my sister, so he doomed poor Ailsa to her death by sending her away – far away to the Highlands. He made it look like an alliance, but it was actually naught but a way of ridding himself of a daughter who shamed him.”

“That is no’ guid,” said Logan.

“And that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“My mother took her own life because she was so upset when a messenger came from Scotland to tell us that Ailsa had died. Ailsa and my mother were close. She was the eldest daughter. My mother knew about the baby and she didn’t care. She swore she would protect that baby forever. She wanted grandchildren more than anything. My mother loved children.”

“So it was yer faither’s doin’s that caused her to kill herself.”

“In a way I suppose it was. I didn’t know it at the time but found out from my father that in Drummond’s missive he also admitted to killing poor Ailsa. That was too much for my mother to bear. I was gullible and didn’t know any of this. Neither did I know that my father stole the king’s sword and that his intention was never to save little Lockie, but it was to kill Drummond because that is what my father thought would save his soul.”

“Blethers, Rhoswen, I had no idea.” Logan held her tighter.

“On his deathbed, do you know what he said to me that day? He told me he wanted me to kill Ranulph Drummond.”

“What? Nay, lass.”

“He meant it, too.”

“Please dinna tell me ye plan to kill Drummond.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “But I want to save my nephew and do whatever I have to in order to make it happen.” She raised her chin and looked him in the eyes, almost scaring Logan by the vengeance he saw within her gaze. “Logan, I will bring my nephew home even if I have to kill to do it.”

“Och, lass, please dinna talk that way.”

“If only I had the king’s sword, then mayhap I could kill Drummond and manage to save my nephew, even without your help.”

“Dinna say things ye dinna mean, lass.”

“I do mean it. My father said with the king’s sword we would be triumphant. I just remembered, he called it the Sword of Triumph.”

Logan’s body stiffened when he heard the name of his clan’s sword springing from her lips. It had to be a coincidence, that’s all.

“Sword of Triumph?” he asked. “What did this sword look like, lass?”

“Like a sword,” she said. “But it had some colored jewels in the handle.”

“Was it a wooden handle and was there a snake runnin’ around the hilt that had an open mouth with fangs?”

“Yes, I believe so,” she said with a sniffle. “How did you know?”

“I ken exactly the sword ye are talkin’ about because it is clear to me now that the sword yer faither stole from the English king was the same sword the Drummonds once stole from me. I never even kent they’d lost it.”