The Chieftain Read Free

said.
    “None that we can trust,” she said as she tied the bandage around Ian’s arm. “A healer wouldn’t even have to poison him, though
     she could. ’Tis easy to let a wound go bad.”
    *  *  *
    It should have been a clean kill.
    Lachlan mulled over what went wrong as he waited at the meeting point for Hugh’s galley, which would take him back to Trotternish.
     He had wasted his first arrow on the wrong man. When the rider entered the clearing, he fit the description Lachlan had been
     given: a tall warrior near Lachlan’s age with a rangy build and hair as black as a crow. Fortunately, the man’s horse had
     jerked to the side and saved his life. Lachlan was relieved he had only winged him. He did not make a practice of killing
     men who did not deserve it.
    As soon as the next man charged his horse into the clearing, Lachlan realized his mistake. He could not have said why, for
     the two looked much alike, but he had known immediately that the second man was the chieftain. There was something about him
     that bespoke his position as leader of the clan.
    Odd, how the chieftain had ridden directly into Lachlan’s range when he saw the arrow strike his companion. Connor MacDonald
     had not hesitated, not spared a glance behind him to look for someone else to do it.
    It was the chieftain’s unexpected willingness to put the life of one of his men before his own that had caused Lachlan to
     falter, just for an instant, and send his next arrow into the chieftain’s thigh instead of his heart. Lachlan recovered quickly,
     and his third arrow struck the chieftain in the chest, though it may have been too high to kill him.
    Next time, he would not falter.
    *  *  *
    The four men were in deep discussion when Ilysa slipped into the chamber with a tray. She glanced at Connor, who had no business
     being out of bed a day after he was wounded. Though he hid his pain well, she saw it in the strain around his eyes.
    “We haven’t found the man who shot those arrows,” Ian said. “His tracks were washed out in the rain.”
    As Ilysa started around the table refilling their cups, Duncan gave her his icy warrior’s stare to let her know that their
     earlier argument was not finished. Ilysa responded with a serene smile to let him know that it was.
    “We all know Hugh is responsible for this attack,” Alex said, referring to Connor’s half uncle who was set on taking the chieftainship
     from him. “He’s tried to have Connor murdered more than once.”
    “The MacLeods wouldn’t attack us here on the Sleat Peninsula where we are strong,” Ian agreed. “This was a single archer,
     and my guess is he was one of our own.”
    “We have vipers among us!” Duncan slammed his fist on the table, causing their cups to rattle.
    As Ilysa refilled their cups, Ian shot her a quick, dazzling smile, and Alex winked at her. She had always been fond of Connor’s
     cousins, though the pair had been philandering devils before they settled down to become devoted husbands. Ian and Connor
     had gotten their black hair from their mothers, who were sisters, while Alex had the fair hair of the Vikings who had once
     terrorized the isles.
    “Will ye reconsider your decision to live at Trotternish Castle?” Ian asked Connor. “Up there, ye won’t have us to guard your
     back as we did yesterday.”
    “Hell,” Alex said. “if someone kills ye, we’re likely to end up with Hugh as chieftain.”
    “By making Trotternish Castle my home,” Connor said, “I’m sending a message to the MacLeods—and to the Crown—that I am not
     giving up our claim to the Trotternish Peninsula.”
    Connor’s deep voice reverberated somewhere low in Ilysa’s belly, making her hand quiver as she poured whiskey into his cup.
     For a moment she feared he would notice, but she needn’t have worried.
    “I want them to know,” Connor continued, “that we will fight for the lands the MacLeods stole from us.”
    “ A’ phlàigh oirbh, a