“Ye unfaithful dog!” Noreen screamed as she charged at her husband with a dagger held high above her head.
Malcolm’s attention had been on Faolan. He’d never anticipated the need to keep watch over his wife. The error in judgment was fatal. Noreen crashed into Malcolm as he stumbled sideways. The long blade plunged into his neck. Blood spurted out as Malcolm screamed in pain. The force that Noreen had attacked with sent them both toward the open window. Malcolm cried out again as he tumbled right out. At the last moment, he grabbed a handful of Noreen’s hair and pulled her with him.
Faolan lunged at them, his hands grasping for a hold. He caught a handful of Noreen’s silk skirt but still skidded the last step to the window. Cora was knocked aside as the Retainers, who had been outside the door, came to their laird’s defense. Faolan was leaning out of the window, trying to pull Noreen back up.
One of the McKay Retainers didn’t stop to take in any details. The man pulled a dagger and slashed at Faolan. Cora lunged forward, shoving the man to the side with every bit of strength she had. He snarled, but they landed in a heap on the floor.
“Help me pull them back up!” Faolan growled.
The second Retainer took in the scene a bit faster. He went toward the window, recognizing the bright splash of color that was twisted in Faolan’s hands was, in fact, Noreen’s skirt. He was straining to hold her weight.
“It’s murder if ye drop me, brother!”
Malcolm’s voice came through the open window. From below in the yard, someone screamed. Cora took it all in as she scrambled to get up. The Retainer she’d knocked aside shoved her off of him so he could go to his laird’s rescue.
But the delicate silk wasn’t up to the challenge of supporting two people’s weight. There was a sound of cloth ripping. The McKay Retainer tried to reach for his lady, but Fate wasn’t going to aid them. A collective scream came before the sound of bodies hitting the ground followed. Cora felt her insides heave in response, horror gripping her.
Faolan turned, his face slick with perspiration, but he didn’t mop it away. Instead, he stared at the length of torn material in his hand. Self-loathing twisted his features.
Footsteps came pounding up the stairs. McKay Retainers flooded into the room, their teeth bared.
“Ye killed the laird!”
“Do nae think yer relationship will save ye!”
“Hang him!”
“Faolan tried to save them,” Cora cried in Faolan’s defense.
“There was a dagger wound on the laird’s neck!” one of the McKay declared. On the side of his knitted bonnet, there were three feathers. One of them stood upright, declaring him to be a captain. The rest of the McKay men were silent, confirming that they recognized his authority.
“Lady McKay stabbed her husband after he coveted his brother’s wife.”
The new voice was low and controlled. The men crowded around Faolan were confused for a moment before they realized the person speaking was behind them.
Back near the door, standing quietly, was the priest. His face was frozen in disapproval as he raised a shaking finger and pointed at the window. “This was God’s judgment. His judgment comes and right soon…’”
Silence stretched across the chamber. The captain looked toward Faolan. Cora watched the man struggle to accept the change which had just occurred. But a priest’s word was absolute. Even so, the man looked around, making eye contact with every Retainer in the room. One by one, they all nodded.
“Laird.”
The captain was the first to reach up and tug on the corner of his cap. The rest of the men followed suit.
Their voices were low, but the weight they carried was extreme. Faolan’s expression tightened. He nodded once before he locked gazes with the priest. “Ye followed us?”
The priest frowned. “Ye might have been intent on intimidating the women of this clan to bear witness for ye. I thought to hear their truest words when ye approached them.” He looked toward the window. “Indeed, I received what I set out to find.”
The priest drew in a deep breath. He tucked his hands into his robe and faced the men of the McKay clan.
“I will offer a pardon for both their souls. But they should be buried immediately and not mourned. Neither is worthy.” The priest turned and left.
The McKays followed him, their loyalty still clinging to Malcolm and his wife. Faolan and Cora went along, and the priest began the blessing over the two people who had just been so intent on seeing Faolan broken to their will.
Malcolm and Noreen were lying in the yard. Someone had straightened them, but there was no dismissing the fact that both were dead. Cora found herself venturing closer, unable to grasp just how suddenly circumstances had changed. Faolan caught her wrist, preventing her from advancing further.
It was a wise move. Even with the priest to witness the matter, she and Faolan were deep inside the McKay stronghold. If the clan turned hostile, there would be no way to prevent them from doing whatever they would.
Faolan stepped in front of her. Cora drew in a breath. It was a little reaction that simply happened in response to the way he sheltered her. She might have expected that her pride would rebel, but she couldn’t lie to herself.
She liked the way he shielded her.
“This was a crime of lust and wrath,” the priest declared. “Pray for mercy for their souls and take heed of the lesson the Lord has shown ye. To covet is to listen willingly to the devil.”
The McKays were hushed. They muttered their prayers through their shock as the priest gave his testimony. When it was over, there was only the sound of the wind in the yard. Over two hundred clansmen stood still, uncertain of what to do next. The laird’s shame was theirs. The name of the McKay stained just as surely as the yard was splashed with the blood of their laird and lady.
Faolan muttered a prayer, and Gainor suddenly appeared at his side.
“Complete the burial as the priest instructed,” Faolan commanded.
Cora held her breath, waiting to see if the Retainers would obey. A gust of wind tore through the yard, almost as if Malcolm was attempting to intercede from beyond the grave. If he was, the Retainers decided to choose the living over a ghost. They nodded and moved forward to hoist the bodies up. Cora felt her body tightening. Every muscle was rigid as those men turned to carry the bodies through the open gates toward the graveyard.
So very quickly, life had changed. It was sobering and frightening. But Cora felt something else stirring inside her. A sense of justice. She watched the way the women in the yard turned to Faolan. There was fear in their eyes, and Cora didn’t pity any of them. Instead, she took note of the ones who shuffled their feet and ducked their chins.
They were about to reap what they had sowed.
Gainor stroked his beard. He eyed Faolan up and down before inclining his head. “Laird McKay.”
Faolan tilted his head to one side. He pointed at Gainor. “My head captain.”
Gainor sputtered.
Cora enjoyed the moment until she looked past Faolan to where Malcolm’s captains stood. They wore hard expressions, but somehow, Cora didn’t think their dark visages were because of their laird’s recent demise.
No, they were glaring at Faolan. In their eyes, Cora saw the discontent which might turn to blood on the floor. Their positions were at stake, and ambition was a vicious thing. It would strip civility from a clan. Faolan would need eyes in the back of his head if he planned to survive.