Wee William's Woman, Book Three of the Clan MacDougall Series (41 page)

After a few moments, she dried her tears and hugged him again.

“You should not keep John waiting, then, William,” she told him. “I’ll stay and speak with Isobel, and help Aishlinn where I can. I’ll meet you at home later.”

Wee William hugged her again before leaving the cottage. As he walked along the path toward the keep, he could not help but feel elated, joyous, and utterly content. He reckoned that he must have done something truly spectacular in another life, for he could not fathom what he’d done in this one to deserve a wife like Nora.

Eighteen

T
he meeting of the seven clans was held at the beginning of summertime. The event was disguised as a festival and games, and only a handful of people knew secret meetings that would take place between the clan chiefs.

MacDougalls, McKees, and McDunnah’s had been living in relative harmony for decades. The gathering was put forth in hopes of bringing the Grahams, Lindsays, Carruthers, and Randolphs into the fold in a more permanent fashion. While the latter clans were not sworn enemies of the MacDougalls, McKees or McDunnahs, neither had they sworn oaths of fealty in times of need or troubles.

Over the course of the next fortnight, games would be held, feasts eaten, music enjoyed, and much good whiskey drunk. And God willing, an unbreakable bond would be forged between the seven clans.

By the time the last of the clans arrived, more than two thousand men, women, and children were gathered in and around Castle Gregor. The clan chiefs, along with their wives and children, were given fine rooms within Castle Gregor, while their soldiers and people camped out of doors. The hills surrounding Gregor were dotted with tents, wagons, and horses, as far as the eye could see. Flags and banners bearing the colors and crests of each clan waved in the breeze. If one didn’t know aforehand, one might think an attack was imminent.

It was very late at night, with most of the inhabitants of the castle fast asleep, save for those assigned the night posts, and the chiefs of the seven clans. The chief’s met in secrecy in Angus’ war room. Windows had been drawn shut, the heavy drapes pulled taut to keep sound from carrying too far.
 

No guards stood outside the door. No pages or squires waited patiently in the background to bring ale or food. No lieutenants, no men-at-arms, no seconds-in-command were present.

Just seven men.

Men who wanted peace. Men who wanted nothing more than for their children or grandchildren grow up without knowing war, famine, or tyranny.

Each man held his own personal reasons for attending.

Angus sat at the head of the table, with Nial McKee and Caelen McDunnah on either side of him. Seamus Lindsay, Andrew Graham, Douglas Carruthers, and James Randolph, chiefs of their respective clans, were the only other people in attendance. It was the fourth such meeting held over the course of three long years and Angus prayed this would be the meeting where they would finally unite.

“We’re stronger as a whole, than as individuals,” Angus told the men. “If we unite as Scots, we stand a much better chance against the English or anyone else who decides to invade.”

“And what guarantee do we have that none of ye will come against the Randolphs?” James Randolph asked, unable to mask his apprehension.

James Randolph was of the same age as Angus and the two looked quite similar in appearance, with their long blonde hair and substantial builds. But that was where their similarities ended. Where Angus held on to the fervent belief that not all men were devious by nature, James Randolph was far too pessimistic. Perhaps it was due to the fact that James Randolph had entered into truce accords before only to see them broken before the ink on the parchment had dried.
 
“We’ve no guarantee that the five of ye would no’ form an alliance to take
our
lands.”

“Ye’d have me word on it, James.” Angus told him. He did not take James’ question as an insult. Were Angus in the same position as the Randolphs, he’d have the same suspicions and concerns.

“Bah!” James said with a shake of his head. “Yer word? Aye, ye may give us yer word today and we could shake on it and take an oath in blood, but it does no’ mean ye won’t change yer mind when a better offer comes along.”

Angus held his temper in check. “Have any of ye ever ken me to go back on me word?” he asked quietly. “Have any of ye ever ken me to break an oath?”

Angus’ reputation as it pertained to his word and his bond, was above reproach and he knew the men surrounding him were well aware of that fact. He’d not allow James Randolph to bait him into an argument over it. They weren’t here to discuss his honor, they were here to hopefully forge an alliance.

“Nay,” Caelen McDunnah finally spoke. “There be very few men in this world whose word I’d accept above yers, Angus.” He directed his statement directly toward James Randolph. “In fact, I canna think of one other I could enter into an agreement with, with just the shake of a hand. Yer word is yer bond, but I be no’ so sure I could say the same about anyone else in this room.”

Caelen McDunnah did not care if he had insulted the Randolph chief or anyone else. Where Angus’ reputation as an honorable, honest man preceded him, Caelen’s reputation was not quite as stellar. Aye, he was a man who kept his word, just as Angus did. But Caelen was known as a hell raising, skirt-chasing son of a whore. He was an anomaly of sorts. While men could trust him to keep his word, it wasn’t always easy obtaining it.

“Are ye suggestin’ Caelen McDunnah, that
I
am no’ to be trusted?” James Randolph asked as he leaned forward in his chair. He did nothing to hide his anger.

“Nay,” Caelen answered with an air of nonchalance. “I be statin’ the fact that of all the men in this room, Angus be the only one I’d trust with me life. I canna say the same fer the rest of ye fer I do no’ ken ye as well as I ken Angus.” Caelen draped an arm over the back of his chair. “I’ve ken Angus all me life. He and me father were of like minds. I consider him a true friend, and I canna say that about many people.”

“I believe none of us here question Angus’ word,” Andrew Graham interjected. His deep voice rumbled softly through the room. “I believe James has a right to be concerned. He’s made some questionable alliances in the past and he wants no’ to make the same mistakes again.”

James Randolph bolted to his feet. “Are ye implyin’ that I be a poor judge of character, Graham?”

“Nay,” Andrew replied coolly. “I be sayin’ ye’ve made alliances in the past with people ye thought ye could trust, such as the Bowie Clan, and its left a foul taste in yer mouth. No one here can blame ye fer bein’ concerned.”

Each man knew what Andrew spoke of. Nearly twenty years ago, the Randolph had believed he could form an alliance with Donnel Bowie. The agreement was broken less than a year later when the Bowie attacked the Randolphs from within. The battle waged for more than a month and when all was said and done, the Randolphs had won, but at the cost of countless lives. James Randolph was still trying to rebuild his keep and replace the warriors he had lost.

Douglas Carruthers finally spoke. “James, we ken yer concern and canna blame ye,” he leaned forward in his chair and held his palms up. “We all can agree on three things this day.”

James slowly sat back into his chair but his angry scowl remained.

“What be those things?” Seamus Lindsay asked after a long moment.

Douglas looked at each of the men before speaking. “One, we can all agree that Angus McKenna is a man of his word. Two, we can all agree that each of us has made alliances in the past that we have lived to regret.”

The men waited patiently for Douglas to list the third item.

“And three?” Seamus asked impatiently.

A smile began to form on Douglas’ lips. “And three, we all can agree we hate the English.”

None would argue his last point.

“Angus,” Douglas said with a nod of his head in Angus’ direction. “You have my full support on this accord. The Clan Carruthers will be proud to call ye brethren.”

Angus gave a slight smile in Douglas’ direction. Clan Carruthers was not as large a clan as the MacDougall Clan, but their lands bordered MacDougall lands to the north. They would be a very important ally, especially if Carrick Bowie, the son of Donnell Bowie, proved to be a man of his word. He’d recently made a very public promise to behead each of the men currently present in the war room. He wanted their lands, their homes, and their coin. Carrick Bowie was not a man to ignore and none of the men here this day would take his threats lightly.

Angus had previously received the full support of the clans McDunnah, McKee, and Graham. He could only hope that Douglas Carruthers’ pledge to join them would be enough to nudge James Randolph in the right direction.

Each of the men looked patiently at James Randolph. He was as pessimistic as they came and Angus knew ’twould not be easy to gain his support.

“What say ye, James Randolph?” Andrew Graham asked with a raised brow. Andrew Graham understood the importance of having the Randolphs as allies as much as any man in the room understood.
 

The realization of just how important the Randolph Clan was to the agreement and future of the other clans seemed to hit James Randolph like a bolt of lightning. Each man could see that things were finally beginning to click with the cynical clan chief as he tried to hide the wry smile that came to his face. Pretending to be as indifferent and blasé as he could manage, James Randolph cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair.

“I would have to agree with Douglas and the rest of ye. We would make fine allies…” James said as his voice trailed off leaving some thing unsaid.

Carruthers was growing impatient with the Randolph chief. “And?”

James twisted his lips as if he were contemplating something of great significance then let out a short breath. “The rest of ye are all bigger clans than mine, I’ll give ye that. I ken it be what me lands can offer the six of ye that make ye want Clan Randolph to join with ye. I want reassurance that none will try to stab us in the back when an opportunity arises.”

“I kindly ask ye to stop makin’ yer snide remarks as to our honor, Randolph. ’Tis startin’ to rub me the wrong way and if ye say such a thing again, I’ll run ye through meself.” Carruthers told him pointedly.

Under different circumstances, James Randolph would have taken umbrage with the Carruthers threat. However he had far bigger fish to catch at the moment.

“We have put it in writing, Randolph,” Caelen began. He was growing more irritated with James Randolph as the moments past.

“Aye, but ye ken as well as I that there be times in life when a written promise is no more valuable than the parchment it be written on. I want something far more tangible than a slip of parchment with signatures on it.” James Randolph was doing his best to hide his growing excitement. Where he may have fooled some of the men in the room, Angus and Caelen were aware of his sudden shift in attitude. The way James Randolph was twisting his lip and drumming his fingers on the table showed the man was excited about something.

“Quit beatin’ around the bush, Randolph and get to what it is ye want,” Caelen said, not caring to hide his frustration.

James Randolph cleared his throat again, stared directly at Angus, and then appeared to steal himself for the impending wrath of Angus. “I want a marriage between Bree McKenna and me eldest son, Gillon.”

Seamus Lindsay, Douglas Carruthers, Nial McKee, and Andrew Graham laughed boisterously at Randolph’s demand. They knew well that Angus McKenna was as against arranged marriages as he was opposed to the English. The only men not laughing were Angus, Caelen, and James Randolph.

“Ye’ve got a set of ballocks on ye, Randolph!” Nial McKee laughed as he slapped his leg with the palm of his hand. Up to this point, he’d been sitting quietly studying every man in the room. “Anyone who kens Angus McKenna kens he’d never offer any of his daughters as something to seal a bargain with.” Nial wiped the tears from his face as his laughter finally began to subside.

“Nay,” Nial continued. “Angus believes in letting his children choose their own wives or husbands, Randolph. Me thinks ye’ll have to find another way to get yer reassurance of our allegiance.”

The fact that Nial had taken a liking to the young Bree McKenna was beside the point. Nial was seven years older than she and he assumed he’d need to wait another year or two before asking Angus’ permission to court the girl. He had been dropping hints to Angus ever since the lass turned seven and ten near Hogmanay time. Thus far, Angus had done nothing but grunt and threaten to disembowel him if he made any attempts at wooing his youngest daughter. They were threats that Nial took quite seriously, at least for now.

“Nial be right,” Caelen finally spoke. “Ye best find an alternative, Randolph.” Caelen didn’t hold the same romantic inclinations toward Bree McKenna that Nial and many other young men did. He was more an older brother or uncle to the young girl.

He’d met Gillon Randolph before and hadn’t been too impressed with the lad. Aye, he was young, a good fighter, and seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. But there was something about the boy that Caelen hadn’t realized he didn’t care for until the suggestion of Bree marrying him was brought up.