tried to calm the growing terror within her about what was to come.
Robert the Bruce slid off his horse and approached Sebastien, grasping him by the shoulders and pulling him to his feet. After the customary kiss, the Bruce whispered words only Sebastien could hear. Unease pricked her as they both turned to face her. More whispered words took place between them and then the Bruce held up his hand and waved to the guard at the gate.
’Twas lucky for her that she stood against the stone doorway, for when her father was brought forward, beaten bloody and in chains, she nearly fell to her knees. The steely look in his eyes, a look that spoke of control and unbowed resistance, warned her to do nothing. The Bruce, Sebastien and her father climbed to the top of the stairway and faced those gathered before them.
Strangers filled the place. Lara recognized only a handful of the men and a very few women, those from the kitchen and a few villagers, there among the Bruce’s soldiers. Lara now clenched her hands in front of her to keep from trembling as she waited to hear her father’s, and her own, fate.
“I give thanks to God Almighty for having delivered us from our enemies,” the Bruce called out in a booming voice. “With His intervention, the perfidy of the MacDougalls did not succeed.”
Loud yelling and clapping followed his words, and Lara felt the soldiers’ anger at her clan wash over her as though it were something tangible. She began to stumble, until an armored hand slid under her elbow to steady her. Sebastien stood at her side.
“The MacDougalls have been scattered. Their castle and lands are now ours in the name of Scotland!”
Lara’s stomach began to churn as the Bruce turned and looked at her. In his cold gaze, she could read his satisfaction at being in control here and now. A shiver tore down her spine and fear at what was about to happen drew a tight grip around her throat.
“The Maid of Lorne has been claimed and the blood shed in her claiming declares that she, too, is ours.” The Bruce nodded to one of the soldiers near him, and the sheet proclaiming her surrender was unfurled and displayed for all to see. The cheering was unbearable for her.
She wanted to shrivel up and die at that moment. If her father had not known, now he did, as did everyone listening. Her chest tightened and her eyes burned as she fought to stay on her feet. Had Sebastien told of how she’d given in instead of fighting him off? If her father knew that she had indeed surrendered body and soul to the enemy, he would kill her himself. If the Bruce knew, he would use it against her and to humiliate her father even more than his presence and condition did now.
The moment while she waited to hear the words that would damn her in her clan’s eyes stretched on forever. Gathering her courage from deep within, she looked at the Bruce. She was a MacDougall and would face her fate and not cringe from it.
“To prevent any resistance to our claims on this land, the children of the MacDougall will be held hostage for his behavior. The MacDougall swore a sacred oath to leave this land for England, never to return, and his children’s lives were pledged as a surety on that oath.”
She could not have prevented her gasp from escaping if she’d tried. News of this oath, this new truce that would protect her father’s life at the cost of hers and her brother’s and sister’s, shocked her to her core. Although she could feel herself trembling, she could not stop it. He could not have given them over with no effort to free them, could he?
Two soldiers took her father’s arms and dragged him down the steps to a horse that had been led forward. Realizing that she would most likely not see him again, she escaped Sebastien’s grasp, rushed down the steps and clutched at her father’s leg as he now sat astride the horse.
“Papa?” she cried out. “Papa!”
Part of her felt the terror of a small child being abandoned. Horror filled another part of her at his willingness to barter his children for his own safety. But the larger part of her simply wanted to know why.
Her father leaned down and loosened her fingers from where they encircled his leg. Under his breath, he whispered a few words to her. “Look to your uncle now.”
Lara leaned back and stared at him, hoping for something more, but he used his foot to push her away. Stumbling back, she landed in the dirt, and she could only watch in horror and humiliation as her father denied her before their foe.
“You opened the gates to our enemy and then gave yourself and your brother and sister into their hands. They could never have taken the castle, girl,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice sharp and biting. Then he spat on the ground next to where she lay and turned his face and gaze away from her as though she did not merit his attention.
Sebastien swore under his breath at his own stupidity. He should have foreseen the MacDougall’s reaction when faced with his daughter’s fate. The old man was hard, harder and colder than anyone else he knew, so his act of rejection against Lara should have not have caught him unawares. Sebastien strode down the steps and grasped her by the arm, lifting her to her feet. Obviously in shock, she did nothing to help or hinder his efforts to raise her up and bring her to his side.
She made no sound, although tears streamed down her cheeks. He was tempted to wipe them away, but he had other matters to handle. The MacDougall and his armed guards galloped through the gates toward the south, and Sebastien turned his attentions back to his king.
“Sebastien of Cleish will hold this fortress until I decide the fate of Dunstaffnage and the lands surrounding it.” Sebastien had been prepared for that assignment, but clenched his teeth as he thought on the Bruce’s most effective means of controlling an area—destruction of the castle and scattering the people. So the next words surprised him. “He will also serve as commander of my troops in this area, answering only to me.”
The cheers began with his own men and spread throughout the soldiers in the yard, on the battlements and near the gate. Sebastien had earned his way through the ranks, not inheriting titles or honors or command by his name, and not being held back due to the lack of one, either. His success meant much to the average soldier about the opportunities in serving the Bruce.
“Come, Sebastien. We have much to discuss before I leave this day.”
Sebastien could sense how unsteady Lara was, and felt reluctant to release her. Nodding to the Bruce, he turned to find Lara’s serving woman. The King’s next words rang out before he could find her.
“And assign someone to ready the MacDougall’s heir to leave with me.”
Sebastien had not yet told Lara of the Bruce’s plan to take her brother and sister from Dunstaffnage. Although he could not argue it here, he opposed the king’s plan. Lara’s scream and her lunge at the king limited his options.
Tightening his grip on her arm until she gasped, he drew her close and warned her in low tones, “Do nothing to anger the king or your siblings will pay the cost.”
She looked at him, and such hatred poured from her gaze that he nearly let her slip from his hold. Nearly. “Do nothing but what I tell you,” he whispered harshly while releasing her and pushing her toward the guard who approached from behind her. “See to your lady,” he ordered.
She regained her feet as the guard caught up to her, and she looked as though she would disobey his orders. For a moment, he waited. Then she became a different person before his eyes. Straightening her back and shoulders, Lara shook off the guard’s hand and nodded to Sebastien. When her maid reached her side, they walked into the
