“Isobel Campbell, come forward,” King David boomed.
Isobel did not hesitate. She walked with the bearing of a queen straight up to the dais where the king sat beside Iain, Lachlan, and the king’s trusted allies Robert Erskine and Archibald Douglas. Though the king had not called Graham forward, he strode up to the dais and took up position beside Isobel. She glanced at him, a grateful look in her eyes.
The king speared Isobel with his unwavering gaze. “This messenger is from yer father. What say ye? Do ye think he pleads for yer return?”
A pained look crossed her face that made Graham’s chest squeeze. “I’m certain he pleads for my return, Sire,” Isobel replied in a voice underlain with resentment. “Acquiring my castle is verra important to him, and he kens well he kinnae do so without me, unless he wages war on my grandmother, and quite likely my grandfather, the MacKinnon, who would heed her call out of fear of being cursed again. Her brother will also come if she calls for aid.”
The king nodded. “Aye. I ken it, as well, as do all men who have coveted Brigid through the years, but it is good that ye ken yer worth.”
She frowned. “I kinnae forget my worth comes from Brigid. Nae a day goes by that someone dunnae remind me.” The scorn in her voice was obvious.
The king waved a hand. “Dunnae be bitter, Isobel. Yer castle has kept ye alive.”
Graham gritted his teeth at the king’s blunt but true words. He had seen the way Isobel tensed and knew the king had wounded her with his statement.
“Relay the letter,” the king commanded the messenger.
The man scurried forward. “King David, the Campbell wishes to meet with ye personally to work through the grievances between the two of ye.”
“Grievances!” the king roared. “Yer laird conspired with Jamie MacLeod to try to take Dunvegan Castle from a clan he kens well is my ally!” The king stood, his face red. “Yer laird is conspiring to topple me from my throne!”
“Sire, nay,” the messenger cried out, but he stepped back a bit as if he feared the protest would earn him a hit across the face.
“Aye,” the king rebutted. “The Campbell dunnae like that I dunnae seek his counsel to run Scotland. He wished to place my nephew, who would be a puppet king, on the throne,” King David growled.
Robert Erskine stood and whispered something in the king’s ear. King David nodded and took a deep breath. “Why should I meet with the Campbell? I believe I will simply wage war on him.”
Graham tensed. It was a bold and surprising threat. The king had a great many men to call upon who would battle for him—the MacLeod clan included—but so did the Campbell. And to openly declare war on the laird who had requested a discussion toward peace—true or not—without knowing what other men were conspiring with the Campbell seemed a dangerous risk to the lands and people of Scotland. As much as Graham would love to destroy the Campbells, war for the throne would bring havoc to the land that the king had been trying to restore order to ever since he’d been released from imprisonment in England. War against enemies unknown could quite possibly cost the king his throne. It seemed wiser to stay with the plan they had concocted to have the king openly denying any knowledge of Graham and his men destroying Innis Chonnell, and then hopefully lure the Campbell into telling King David what other nobles were conspiring against him. Then King David could strike with an advantage while his enemies were unaware, thus ensuring short battles that caused the least destruction to the land and innocent people.
The messenger cleared his throat, and Graham could see that the man was trembling. “Sire, the Campbell bid me to tell you that he will be glad to show ye he has good intentions by naming a list of nobles he believes wish ye ill, and once ye have those names, the two of ye can meet.”
“What does the Campbell desire in return for this list?” King David demanded, his words spiked with anger.
“Three small things, Sire.” The messenger looked to Isobel, and Graham clenched his fists, knowing what the man would say. “The Campbell is certain ye are as angry as he is that the MacLeods took his beloved daughters by force.”
“Marsaili Campbell was nae taken by force,” the king replied, motioning to a table in the far back of the room where Graham had failed to notice Marsaili sitting alone. “Come forth and speak the truth, Marsaili.”
Graham watched Marsaili walk slowly to the dais, and he could feel Isobel’s tension as she stared at Marsaili. After a moment of silence, Marsaili cleared her throat. “I willingly left Innis Chonnell to come to Dunvegan as I am half-MacLeod on my mother’s side, as my father well knows. I wish to make my home with the MacLeods and willingly submit to the will of my laird—and half brother—Iain MacLeod, and to the will of my king.”
King David smiled at Marsaili. “Go now. I will speak with yer brother about the best course for yer future.”
Marsaili nodded and turned quickly away, but as she came to Isobel and Graham she reached out and squeezed Isobel’s hand, then speared Graham with a look. “Dunnae ye forget,” she said in a low voice, “ye vowed to champion Isobel.”
He nodded, not wishing to speak of his vow with so many listening.
Once Marsaili departed and the door to the great hall closed once more, the king spoke again. “Ye may relate to the Campbell that his daughter Marsaili will stay with the MacLeods as is her right. Now,” the king boomed. “Ye may also tell the Campbell I was angry indeed that Graham MacLeod took Isobel Campbell from her loving home,” the king said, managing to sound outraged.
Graham clenched his teeth, though he knew this was the best path.
“I was also verra angry that the MacLeods chose to attack the Campbell’s castle without my consent or knowledge.”
Isobel inhaled sharply beside Graham. Did she think him a liar or the king? It should not matter to him what she thought, but it did. “Ye will tell the Campbell I said so, but ye will also remind him that it washisconspiring to steal the MacLeod castle with Jamie MacLeod, along with his son and daughter trying to steal the Fairy Flag, that started his problems with the MacLeods.”
“Aye, Sire. I will relay yer message. But begging yer pardon, will ye send his beloved daughter Isobel with me to return to the Campbell?”
Graham wanted to refute the request but knew best to save his arguments, if needed, for when the messenger was gone. Though he could not imagine King David would do something like send the heiress of Brigid Castle back to her father to be married to one of the king’s enemies.
A smirk came to the king’s lips. “Tell him it is far too dangerous to send Isobel back to him and risk that she is captured by one of his enemies or one of mine. It is much wiser to marry her quickly, so that the risk of her being married by force to an enemy dunnae come to pass.”
