“Okay, Ian,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
He kissed her again, deeply, hungrily, stirring desire in her blood. Oh yes, that was what they were good at—forgetting the pain of their souls through their bodies.
For tonight, they’d forget and be happy.
What tomorrow would bring, Kate didn’t want to know.
Chapter 25
Three days later…
The great hall of Dundail swarmed with people. It was dark again, the indigo of the late night outside fighting against the warm light of the candles.
But it wasn’t an easy atmosphere. The men frowned, speaking in low voices, hunched over their cups of ale and wine. The food on the tables was modest but delicious. Kate and Manning had prepared an excellent stew of vegetables and wildfowl that Ian had hunted earlier.
This wasn’t a celebratory feast.
It was a war gathering.
Tomorrow, they’d fight.
After three days of his campaigning with the fiery cross, every single one of Ian’s tenants had answered the call. Alan Ciar was among those who supported the cause the most, and he alone brought twenty-five people. The man had battle experience and sat by Ian’s side at the lord’s table.
Alan’s eyes shone brightly. “We will make the bastarts leave,” he said. “’Tis a good plan, lord.”
Ian nodded, looking around the hall. There were more people than he had hoped. Eighty men—including young’uns and older men who could still hold a sword. Ian realized this was what they must have missed. Uniting for a common cause. Doing something to protect their families and livelihood.
Ian rose from the table, noting out of the corner of his eye that one more man had joined the hall—Crazy Mary. He’d been distant and observing everything skeptically, but now he stood leaning against the wall near the entrance to the great hall. He scowled at Ian, his arms were crossed over his chest.
But he was there.
“My father would have been proud of ye all,” Ian said, and every single pair of eyes turned to him. “He would have sat where I sit, in his lawful place. He would have drunk with ye and ate with ye. And he would have considered it an honor to go with ye to battle.”
The men nodded, straightening their backs and raising their chins.
“And I know in his spirit, he’s with us. What is a better way to die than protecting yer loved—” A movement caught Ian’s eye, and he saw Kate join Manning. She was in the head scarf she always put on when she cooked. It framed her bonnie face making her look so sweet. His throat clenched.
Ian locked eyes with her, happiness blossoming in his chest just from seeing her. “Protecting yer loved ones from the enemy that wants to take everything from ye?” he finished.
He looked around the room again.
“I hear our rightful king, Robert the Bruce, was in a position not much better than we are right now. Verra few people. Nae resources. Nae hope against a powerful enemy, the Sassenach king. But look at him now. He’s winning. And so will we.”
He took his claymore and put it on the table, leaning with his arms against the surface.
“He uses clever Highland tactics—swift movements, apt concealments, artful stalking, and silent execution. And so will we. He takes advantage of the Highland terrain, knowing the land like the English never will.”
He looked in every single pair of eyes that he could meet. “And so will we.”
He straightened his back, his heart thumping.
“The English are still garrisoned on the MacFilib farm, and Frangean, who’s our spy there, tells me they await reinforcements in a few days. They dinna ken we have united as a force. We must act now, before more men arrive. ’Tis our only chance.”
The men stuck their fists in the air and roared.
“But lord,” said an older man, once the din had abated. “Many of us dinna have swords or bows. We canna fight steel with pitchforks.”
He was right. That was one thing Ian still hadn’t found a solution for.
“We dinna have just pitchforks,” Crazy Mary said.
Everyone turned to him. Ian frowned. Manning met Ian’s eyes and slowly separated himself from the wall and stood closer to the men.
“Yer father, he had weaponry. He was safeguarding many swords, in case a moment like this would come. Ian didna ken of it. But I kent.”
The hall filled with the murmurs of many voices, people staring at one another in astonishment. The old fox, his father. Although he had let his home and his lands fall into disrepair, he hadn’t failed to prepare for trouble.
“How many? Where are they?” Ian asked.
“Hidden. I’ll show ye. I advise that no one else follows.”
Ian went with Manning to the kitchen, where he pushed a large barrel aside. There was a round iron handle right in the floor. Manning pulled it, and it lifted up, opening to what looked like a small root cellar. Except, it wasn’t filled with parsnips and cabbages.
There was a heap of claymores.
“’Tis enough for an army,” Ian murmured.
Manning nodded, bent down, and picked up a sword.
“Aye. And ’tis time yer army grows by one more.”
Chapter 26
Later that night, when dinner was over and men lay down to sleep in the great hall, Ian and Kate met in his bedchamber. They lay in bed after making love, her body warm and soft and pliable in his arms. If they won tomorrow, the way for her to go home would be open. If he died, he hoped it would be after he’d taken most of their enemies.
In either case, this was likely the last night they’d ever spend together.
And it would never be enough.
“I want to ken everything about ye, lass,” he said. “What is yer world like in the future?”
Kate chuckled. “Well, the world, at least where I live, is generally safer than your world, I think. It’s more comfortable. There’s electricity that helps us save tons of work. It provides light and warmth and helps us cook without fire. A lot of what one has to do by
