“How ready are these men to meet what could become a full fight for these lands?”
Harcourt listened to Nicolas’s report and was heartened by it. Work was needed but the men of Glencullaich were not completely green. He was determined, however, to turn them into a highly skilled fighting force that any king would envy. Every instinct he had told him that Sir Adam MacQueen would soon get weary of playing with Annys and then the real fight would begin.
Chapter Three
Sir Adam MacQueen’s appearance at the gates of Glencullaich the next day did not surprise Harcourt at all. Knowing how fast word could travel about any strangers in an area, he had suspected the man would hear about him and his men arriving and staying with Annys. Harcourt had had his men watch for anyone leaving the keep or village, for anyone acting the spy, but they had found no one slipping away. That, too, was not surprising although he had hoped for a bit of luck there. The talk roused by the appearance of strangers had obviously been enough to alert Sir Adam, however.
It took but one look at how the people of Glencullaich reacted to the arrival of Sir Adam MacQueen and his men for Harcourt to know that the man would never be a welcome choice for their laird. The people in the bailey looked at Sir Adam and his men as one would a pack of feral dogs, worried that one of the animals would leap at someone’s throat at any moment. Harcourt looked into the man’s cold blue eyes and decided the people of Glencullaich had very good instincts. David had used the same judgment as one of the reasons he so desperately needed an heir. It also better explained how it was these people could accept as heir a child they were all fairly certain had not been sired by their laird.
“Greetings, Sir Adam,” Annys said as she walked out of the keep and stood next to Harcourt on the steps. “We were nay expecting you. Have ye stopped for a rest in your travels?”
“I have come here to judge for myself if the rumors I heard were true or nay,” he snapped as he dismounted and strode to stand at the base of the steps. “I now see that they were the truth. Ye have hired yourself some swords.”
“Nay, I havenae. These men are nay hired swords, Sir Adam. Ye lack courtesy to so quickly name them so. They are old friends.” Seeing the way Sir Adam’s eyes narrowed as he studied the six strong men now flanking her, Annys hastily performed the introductions.
Anger had put a hint of color into Adam’s cheeks. Recalling how he could strike out when angry, Annys desperately tried to think of something else to say before the man had a chance to spit out his anger in ill-chosen words. The very last thing she needed was a battle starting right inside her bailey.
“I have heard of the MacFingals,” Sir Adam said, disdain weighting each word.
“Aye, my clan is weel kenned far and wide,” said Sir Nathan MacFingal, “and our fame and glory grow with each passing day. ’Tis kind of ye to note it.”
Annys looked at the man, struggling to hide her surprise over such a boast. Sir Nathan was grinning as widely as Harcourt and the others were, apparently oblivious to the insult that had just been delivered. That made no sense for they were not stupid men. Yet, every one of them looked one word away from tumbling into a hearty bout of laughter. She wished she knew what jest they shared. The way Adam clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists told her he knew and this reaction to his attempted insult was infuriating him. When Adam turned his glare upon her, Annys barely stopped herself from stepping back in alarm. To hide her fear, she stood even straighter and idly brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek.
“My cousin isnae e’en cold in his grave but a few weeks and ye have already collected yourself a new stable,” Adam said in a cold, hard voice. “But, mayhap this one isnae so new, aye?” he added with a faint nod toward Harcourt.
Joan’s gasp of shock came from behind Annys but she was more interested in the sword point touching Adam’s throat. She had not seen Harcourt move yet the man was one short step from ending Adam’s life. It was very tempting to let him, but Annys knew she would regret it as soon as the deed was done. She needed proof of Adam’s crimes against her. Without it, she and Benet would fight the charge of murder for the rest of their lives. At its weakest it would hurt them in any relationships, truces, or treaties they wished to make to better the lives of the people of Glencullaich. At its worst, it could get her neck into a hangman’s noose and leave Benet alone and unprotected. It would cause Sir Harcourt a great deal of trouble as well since it would be his sword that had drawn Adam’s blood.
“Since ye appear to have come to Glencullaich to do naught but insult me, Sir Adam,” she said, “I believe I would verra much like ye to leave. Now.”