She watched Tavish’s uncle enter the laird’s chambers. If he was not, then his father could be in danger. Right now.
✽✽✽
TAVISH’S HEART CAME to a thudding halt. He peered into the murky darkness from his position on the ramparts, breath held, waiting for another glimpse. It couldn’t be.
Hell fire.
“We’re under attack,” he bellowed into the night.
Boats bobbed under the milky moonlight, pushed hard and fast by oars through the wash. He lost sight of them when they reached the bottom of the steps. He didn’t need to see faces to know who it would be—the Campbells.
Braziers were rapidly lit and men gathered on the walls. Tavish turned to one of them. “Is the gate secure?”
“I dinnae know,” Bram said, drawing out his sword. “They’d be fools to expect to make it through surely?”
Tavish glanced back toward his father’s chambers. The two men stationed outside had come to the castle walls.
And his uncle was making his way toward the room.
He didn’t like this. Not one bit.
“Check the gates, ready the men. They look to have small numbers but if they break through, we’ll have a time of fighting them off. Campbells are fierce fighters.” He looked toward the main keep. At least Leana was locked in her room. “Have someone ensure the women and children are hidden,” he added.
Hand to the hilt of his sword, he peered over the walls once more. The gates were solid but not impenetrable. However, if the men broke through, they’d have to fight them one at a time. Why the Campbells would try something so risky, he didn’t know.
He marched toward his father’s chambers, his throat tightening. The shouts of men and the scrape of swords on scabbards made the hair on the back of his neck rise on end. The Campbells had never tried to attack them in their own keep before. Mayhap they had decided they would all be drunk from Yuletide and easy to defeat but the fact they were here while his father was prone made him uneasy. It meant the traitor could very well be working with them.
Drawing in a deep breath, he pushed open the chamber door, his only hope could be that Leana was wrong.
She wasn’t.
He swiftly freed his sword and pointed it toward his uncle.
Uncle Mac froze, the dagger in his hand pressed against the fabric of Leana’s plaid as she stood flat against the wall, her hands raised in submission. He turned his head slowly to view Tavish, his expression cold and calculating.
“Tavish,” Leana cried.
“Let her go, Uncle,” Tavish said firmly.
From his bed, Tavish’s father struggled to push himself up in bed. “Yer a damned traitor, Kam,” he said. He nodded toward Leana. “The girl woke me as bloody Kam had a knife to my throat. He’d have killed me if she hadn’t arrived.” He tried to swing his legs out of bed but failed. “I suppose ye poisoned me and made me useless too,” his father spat.
Tavish shook his head slowly. “Ye’ve been at my da’s side all these years, and now ye want to kill him?”
“Yer weak,” he spat. “Both of ye are. Wanting to join with the Sinclairs when we could have finished them off and taken their land years ago.”
“There’s no weakness in gaining allies,” his father said.
Uncle Mac glanced between them and then looked to Leana, pressing the knife until she released a squeak of pain. Blood welled at the knife point.
“If ye kill her, I’ll gut ye myself,” Tavish said through gritted teeth.
“If it hadn’t been for her surviving, ye would not have thought twice about killing off the Sinclair chief.” Kam eyed Leana, his face mere inches from hers.
Outside, the shouting and footsteps increased. The Campbells must have reached the gates. He needed to get Leana to safety as soon as possible, but if he moved, Kam could push that dagger into her breast in an instant.
“I wouldnae have killed the last remaining Sinclairs. No matter what ye think, Kam.” Tavish’s father lifted his palms. “Now, pray, let the lass go and we can discuss yer complaints like civilized men.”
“Civilized,” Kam spat. “I dinnae care for civilized and neither should ye.” He cocked his head. “Sounds like the Campbells have arrived anyway. They’ll finish the job for me, and I’ll take leadership finally.”
“Ye would kill yer own kin for power?” Tavish felt the blood drain to his boots.
“We’re Highlanders, Tavish. Dinnae be a fool. We must kill if we’re to survive.”
“So ye did light the fire at the Sinclairs?” The words felt numb and hollow.
Kam lifted a shoulder. “I helped, aided by the Campbells. They wanted rid of the Sinclairs as much as I did. I promised to broker an agreement with them once we took over the land.”
“The Campbells would never agree to anything, ye damned fool,” muttered Tavish’s father.
“Ye wouldn’t know,” Kam hissed. “Ye were too busy trying to get the damned Sinclairs to be yer friends again.” He took Leana’s arm and moved her away from the wall. “I’d hoped to finish this myself, Brother,” he said, easing Leana around and pressing the knife to her throat.
Tavish saw her throat bob and watched the blade, so close to cutting through her fragile skin. He kept his sword point on his uncle and followed his movements as he made his way to the door, using Leana as a shield. He knew now his uncle would do anything—including killing Leana—and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I suppose I’ll have to leave it to the Campbells to finish ye off,” Kam said with a sigh. “Dinnae fear. I’ll be sure to look after the clan when yer both gone.”
“Ye bastard,” his father said bitterly.
Kam slipped out of the open door.
“Bloody get him, Tavish,” his father ordered. “Kill him before he kills yer lass.”
Tavish didn’t need telling twice. If Uncle Kam harmed the woman he loved, he’d scalp the man himself and string him up.
But first he needed to get her to safety.
Chapter Twelve
