She raced after Hamid on horseback, surprised at his urgency as they pushed the horses to gallop down the very familiar path between the clan holdings. As they crested the hill above Darfield Keep, Kyla gasped at the site in front of her. Men—many of them men she had known since she was a child—were circled around the front door of the castle, banging their fists to be let in as they called for her father.
The castle was well enough fortified to keep them from entering, as it had been built in a time of frequent skirmishes and clan disputes. It was likely the first time in its history, however, it was defending against its very own people.
While they couldn’t get inside, the men were taking out their anger by destroying and disturbing anything they could get their hands on. Bales of hay, tools for farming, and carriage pieces went flying round the yard as the men demonstrated their displeasure with their clan leaders.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Hamid murmured to Kyla, reining in his horse. “They look like they might be getting violent, and there’s more of them now than there were when I left. I don’t even see Campbell. He must be inside already. Perhaps we best wait—Kyla? Kyla!”
Kyla didn’t have time to wait. The people below were destroying her family’s home, and anger was boiling her blood. She had to put a stop to this, and she had to do so now.
Most didn’t notice as she rode up, until she pushed her way past them to reach the steps leading into the home. When they saw it was her, they gave her space, although enraged faces leered up at her. She placed her hands on her hips and stared out at them. The entire experience was so utterly shameful. That it had come to this was ridiculous. She was ashamed of her father, of Rory, of the clan, and of herself for not doing more to better the situation.
“Where’s your father, beautiful?” came one call.
“Send him out!” said another.
“Quiet now and listen!” she raised her voice to be heard as she faced them, holding a hand in the air. “My father is dealing with urgent matters…”
“That the young prince Rory caused, most likely,” guffawed a man in the crowd.
“with urgent matters that have taken him to the south,” she continued. “He will return shortly but until that time I am representing him. We understand the concerns you have brought forward. But surely we can find a peaceful resolution that will satisfy all parties. I ask you to trust that I will do all I can to represent your interests if you will allow this to come to a satisfactory conclusion without violence. When my father returns, we will come together to determine the best course forward.”
She was met with silence. For a moment, anyway. It started with just one opposing voice.
“You are pretty to look at, Kyla MacTavish, but your words mean nothing to us anymore!”
“Your father ruined us, your brother is a useless twit, and there’s nothing your charms can do to change anything!”
“Go back to your new clan!”
Kyla was stunned. These were men she had known for years, and now they were treating her like an outsider. She tried to speak to them again, but before she could say anything, one of the men picked up a spoke from a broken cart wheel and threw it at her head. She dodged it, but now she was nervous as the others looked to be getting ideas.
Another threw an indiscriminate object, and pretty soon she was blocking and dodging one thing after another as bits of food and yard items came raining down.
The crowd of men was maddened now, and began to advance on her. Hamid called to her and raced up the stairs, pulling her back to the door. She followed him but then turned, remembering Cadarn. The horse was still standing to the side, tied to a tree, but she saw one of the men begin to approach her.
Kyla broke free of Hamid’s grasp and ran to Cadarn, taking the men by surprise as they expected her retreat instead. She was determined to reach Cadarn and ride back to the McDougalls’ rather than stay and hide here. She needed to get to Finlay—he would know what to do.
She mounted her horse and turned her to ride away, but took one look back at Darfield. As she did so, her eye saw the rock hurtling toward her at the very last second. She tried to dodge it, but it was too late. It struck her on the side of the head, and as all went black, she tumbled from the horse.
* * *
Finlay and his brothers were working in the fields when he caught sight of a figure riding up to them. It seemed Peggy was putting her new riding skills to use as she had pushed her horse into a gallop. As she drew closer, Finlay could hear her calling their names and his heart began to pound as he wondered what could be so urgent.
The three of them began to hurry toward her, and when she finally reached them, she was panting hard.
“What’s wrong, Peg?” Roderick asked.
“Where’s Kyla?” Finlay demanded at the same time.
“There’s an uprising at the MacTavishes,” Peggy gasped out. “Niall’s man, Hamid, came to ask Kyla to come talk sense into the clan. Her father and Rory are in Glasgow. She asked that you come as soon as you can.”
It was all Finlay needed to hear before he tossed the shovel to the side and ran to Hurley, who was tied to a nearby fencepost. He mounted and urged his horse forward, racing away with his brothers close behind him. They yelled at Peggy to go home, but she would have none of it. “Not on your
