Seventeen
Callum watched Marsaili being taken away from him on the back of a destrier, and the anger burning within him felt as if it would consume him. His son cried beside him, despite Maria cooing at the child. When Callum could see Marsaili no more, he dragged his gaze from her and the last of the Campbell warriors, and he locked gazes with Broch, who stood by Maria and Callum’s son.
“I want to kill ye,” he bit out, struggling to control his temper.
“Aye,” Broch replied with a nod. “I’d want to kill me, too, if I were ye. But I saved yer life.”
“Aye, ye did. Now untie me so I can save Marsaili.”
“Nae just yet,” Broch replied.
Callum’s temper snapped. He lunged at the man, and Maria yelped. Callum barreled into Broch, sending them both flying to the ground. With his hands tied, he could not do much, but he managed to roll on top of the Scot, pin him with his thighs, and ram his head forward into Broch’s nose.
Blood spurted out, which felt satisfying for a moment before the cries of his son penetrated the red haze of anger and the swelling tide of loss. He shook his head in disgust at himself, rolled off Broch, gained his feet, and glanced at Broch who was shoving off the ground to stand. As he swiped the back of his forearm across his nose, Callum said, “I’m sorry.”
“Dunnae fash yerself. I kenned ye’d be angry. I’d be the same. Ye just watched the woman ye care for—”
“The woman Ilove,” Callum interrupted, shocked at his words in front of Broch and Maria.
Broch nodded. “Aye. ’Tis apparent. Turn around.”
Callum did as he was commanded, and Broch quickly untied Callum’s binds as he spoke. “I could nae think of another way to save ye, secure the lad, and give us time to rescue her.”
Callum felt the binds fall away from his wrists. He immediately turned toward Broch, toward his son. His heart clenched as he looked at the crying boy. He motioned to Maria. “Give him to me, please.”
“Ye mind yer temper then,” she grumbled but passed the child to Callum.
As he held the small boy in his arms, he felt awkward and strange, but his heart felt so full that it hurt. He kissed the top of the child’s head, his throat aching with emotion. “I’m yer da,” he said, his voice catching.
The little boy quit crying and frowned. “Da? Nay.” He shook his head. “Da dead. I Brody.”
He squeezed the child tight, wanting to tuck this brief moment away in case there was never to be another. He’d send Brody on to safety with Maria, and he would go after Marsaili, and with God’s grace, they’d return to retrieve the child and journey back to his home where they would wed and live out their days together.
The boy smelled of sunshine and spring water, and he was a squirmy, curious thing. He raised his fingers to Callum’s growth of beard and giggled. Callum caught the child’s small fingers and pressed his lips to them. Determination filled him. “I am yer da, and as God is my witness, I’ll be back for ye. We will nae ever be parted again after that.”
“Ye leave?”
Callum nodded, having to swallow the emotion before speaking. “I must retrieve yer mother, Marsaili—the woman from earlier.” The last words were lost on the child as he had leaned back and started laughing and singing a tune. Callum brought him forward once more, gave him a hug, and then handed him to Maria. “Take him to Dunvegan with Broch.”
“Ye kinnae go after her alone,” Broch said as Maria took the boy in her arms. “Come with us to Dunvegan. We’ll gather men there and then storm the Earl of Ulster’s castle.”
Callum shook his head. “Nay. I kinnae delay and take the chance that the earl will wed Marsaili.” The thought of another man touching her, of claiming her body, made him feel crazed.
Broch set his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “I’d do the same,” he said softly, his gaze straying momentarily to Maria. “But dunnae attack the Campbell and his men. Ye will die.”
“I ken,” Callum replied. “I’ll overtake them and track them. If I see an opening, I’ll take her; if nae, I’ll breach the castle somehow and take her from within.”
“We’ll make haste,” Broch said. “And Lachlan, Alex, and Cameron are still searching for her, too. They are surely closing in on us, as they are all excellent trackers. If we come across them, we will send them to ye.”
“God willing,” Callum responded.
Broch nodded. “I will return to aid ye with Iain, and we will bring an army with us.”
“The Campbell will wage war on the MacLeod if he aids me,” Callum said, taking his sword from Broch, who was holding it out to him.
“Aye,” Broch agreed, a grim smile twisting his lips. “We’ve many scores to settle with the Campbell. Iain will welcome the excuse to possibly kill the man. The king has stayed his hand, but I believe Iain has come to the end of his patience.”
The news surprised Callum, as he knew that the MacLeod laird had always been one of the greatest supporters of King David, which was the main reason Callum had believed he had no hope of gaining an alliance with them. “Will the MacLeod break with the king, then? Surely, he will nae support the Steward?”
