Finally free to run ahead, Eoin challenged two of the henchman while Aleck circled with Alexander MacDonald. Though Eoin wouldn’t lose any sleep if the MacDonald Chieftain won the fight, his duty was to capture the man and, if possible, keep him alive to stand trial in Edinburgh.
Together Grant and Eoin fought the henchmen while Aleck and Alexander clashed in a battle of strength.
Eoin quickly bested his attackers and spun, ready for his next opponent. On the beach, Fergus and the MacGregor army had already taken control and were binding the surviving enemies’ wrists and ankles as MacDonald soldiers lay on their bellies. Off the shore, most of the MacIain men still watched the battle from the safety of their galley. Milksops, the lot of them.
They’d chased down Alexander MacDonald and not ended up on a wild goose chase, even though Aleck MacIain had driven them away from the armada. Perhaps the chieftain recognized the galley? It mattered not why. Capture of the MacDonald Chieftain meant Eoin would soon part company with the Ardnamurchan Clan and never need see them again.
Eoin knocked Grant’s opponent in the back with the pommel of his sword. Spinning, Grant used his hips to gain an advantage and cut down his foe. The MacIain henchman readied his weapon and started toward Aleck, but Eoin grasped the younger man’s shoulder. “Let Sir Aleck have his vengeance.”
The MacGregor guard joined them, encircling the fighting nobles. Sweat streaked from Aleck’s brow, his breathing labored. Between bouts, he balanced his great sword on the sand to catch his breath—but doing the same, Alexander was every bit as exhausted.
Though the two proved to be equally matched, Eoin stood ready to pounce if MacDonald gained the upper hand.
He watched as a battle between love and duty warred inside him. Eoin himself yenned to face Aleck MacIain in a fight of swords and brawn, but Alexander MacDonald’s crimes against the crown must not pass by unpunished. If only Eoin and his men had taken control of the beach before Aleck had arrived.
The contenders faced each other, bleeding and haggard, each one barely able to lift his weapon. Aleck sneered with blood staining his teeth. He dropped his sword and staggered forward while shaking his left arm at his side—the one he’d broken.
A dagger dropped from Aleck’s sleeve into the blighter’s palm. “You will never attempt to take my lands again,” he growled, slashing the knife across Alexander’s throat.
Eoin clenched his fists.
The MacDonald Chieftain, descended from the Lord of the Isles, stood for a moment. A stunned look stilled his features as blood flowed down his iron breastplate. Without uttering a word, he crumpled to the sand in a heap.
Aleck swayed on his feet and smirked at Eoin.
Behind them, Duncan and the king strode up the beach.
Aleck raised his dagger in the air. “The usurper has been vanquished by my hand.”
Eoin gaped at the bastard in disbelief.
With a hearty laugh, the king marched straight to MacIain and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have done Scotland a great service.” King James raised his palms in triumph and walked in a circle. “This day, we have quashed the rebellion against Scotland and I am very pleased.”
Aleck slid his dagger back into his shirtsleeve and grinned.
The young king faced the miserable blackguard. “Sir Aleck, I bequeath to you lands on the former MacDonald Islands of Jura and Islay, for you are the true hero of this battle.”
Aleck puffed out his chest like a strutting peacock, then bowed deeply. “I am forever in your debt, your Grace.”
The king slapped his shoulder. “You are and I caution you to nay forget it.”
Eoin could have taken his dirk and stabbed himself. No doubt the land on Islay included one of the MacDonald castles.
Duncan stepped beside him. “What really happened here?”
Eoin pulled his friend aside. “MacIain had a feud to solve with the MacDonald, so I allowed him to fight.” Eoin thumbed his finger at the MacIain men who were still watching from the safety of their galley. “Half the MacIain cowards are trembling in their boat, while my men have battle wounds to tend. What do you think happened?”
Duncan shrugged. “No matter. The lands will all remain in the family.”
“Your family, aye.”
“Of which your clan is a part.”
Eoin bristled. He dearly loved Duncan Campbell, but the man had no idea what it was like to be a Clan Chieftain and owe fealty to another. The Lord of Glenorchy owned lands and castles far greater than anything Eoin could ever hope for.
He summoned his men and headed for his galley. He’d endured just about enough of battles for one season and there was another place he’d much rather be.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“This cider is delicious,” Helen said, taking another heavenly sip while balancing Maggie on her lap.
“I knew you would enjoy it.” Gyllis sat across the table, enjoying a cup as well. “And I filled two satchels with apples.”
“Thank you so much. I love the harvest. Everything is so fresh.” Helen glanced at the book on the table and chuckled. “I’m ever so grateful that you brought a book as well. I’ve missed reading.”
Gyllis smoothed her hand over the worn leather volume. “The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle & other Romantic Tales,” she recited. “Do you remember when Mother sent this to me at Ardchattan Priory?”
“Aye, I’m the one who picked it out, lest you would have ended up with a copy of The Holy Bible for your entertainment.”
Gyllis chuckled. “I’d always thought it was awfully bold of Mother to send a romantic book. I must thank you. Enduring the monks day and night whilst I suffered with paralysis was penance enough.”
Helen hated to think of all the pain and suffering her sister had borne. “I knew it at the time. I worried about you ever so much.”
Gyllis sat quietly for a moment, as if recalling something sad. “And then you paid a far greater penance than I, suffering the ire of Aleck MacIain for so many years.”
Helen gulped. “Let us pray those years are now behind me.” She lowered the cup to Maggie and the bairn helped guide it to her mouth with her tiny hands.
Gyllis watched them while a smile spread across her lips. “Every time I visit, she’s doing something new.”
Helen looked up. “Was it that way with your two?”
“Aye, the first year always has the most changes. And then they start thinking about walking. That’s when things really become interesting.”
“I’ll be happy when she can talk and tell me what’s wrong.”
“I agree with you there. Why God saw fit for us to bring helpless bairns into the world, I’ll never understand. Wee chicks can walk and eat, even puppies are up and around in a few days.”
Helen gave Maggie a squeeze. “I don’t think I’d have it any other way. This little miss is ever so interesting to watch. I wouldn’t want her to forgo a moment of her childhood.”
“No parent would care to miss it.” Gyllis looked away, biting her lower lip. “’Tis unfortunate some do not see it that way.”
Helen took a sip of cider and thoughtfully swirled the tart liquid around her mouth. She knew exactly what Gyllis implied. “I only hope I’m doing right for her.”