Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) by May McGoldrick

in death what you refused me in life. Speak.”
    A dark wisp, Cairns’s spirit hovered over its shell.
    “Tell me about this stone. What is it? And are there others like it?”
    And Cairns told him about the four who walked away from a shipwreck fifty years ago. Each carried a
piece of an
ancient tablet. The first talked to the dead. The second, a healer, could bring a man back from the edge of death. The third knew the secrets of anyone’s past. And the last, a prophet, saw into the future.

Chapter 5
I charge thee on thy allegiance.
    Kester, the MacDougall’s captain of the guard, had his hand on the hilt of his short sword, awaiting the laird’s command. The abbot kept his gaze on Emily’s father, knowing that the next few moments would determine his fate. He sent a prayer skyward to Saint Andrew.
    The abbot could wring his hands, deny his involvement, and bow his head until his neck ached. What the Macphersons had dared to do was inexcusable. But he himself had done nothing wrong. He was but the bearer of bad news.
    Still, that could be enough to make him an accomplice in the eyes of the MacDougalls.
    The Macpherson warrior had left him to his fate outside the gates of Craignock Castle. Watching the man disappear into the night, the abbot realized Diarmad was not about to allow his own head to adorn a pike when there was a cleric to sacrifice.
    The MacDougall, three clan elders, and the captain were conferring in the laird’s private chambers when the abbot had been led in. It was late. Coming through a subdued Great Hall, he’d felt dozens of eyes following his every step. Trenchers of food had long ago been emptied and taken away. Dogs gnawed on scraps and bone beneath the long tables. They’d probably be gnawing on his bones tomorrow, the abbot thought.
    After hearing the cleric, Graeme MacDougall didn’t say a word, but sat with his fist wrapped around the cup of ale as if he were choking someone’s life out of it.
    The abbot did not move. He barely breathed.
    “Where are the men who escorted the lasses?” one of the elders finally demanded of Kester.
    “They came back after the two went missing. I sent them out again with the search parties. We knew nothing of this. Just assumed Lady Kenna wandered off, with Lady Emily in her wake. We had no suspicion of foul play till this moment.”
    “Where are they now?” the other elder asked.
    The abbot shifted his gaze from the laird. “I don’t know. On the way to Oban, I should think. They were to leave immediately after I started here.”
    “What route were they taking to Oban?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “How many of them are with the lasses?”
    “Five that I saw. But there could be more. Many more.” The abbot decided to not mention that Diarmad had accompanied him to the gates of Craignock.
    “Are all three Macpherson brothers with them?”
    “Only the two eldest . . . that I saw.”
    The elders began to speak all at once. The abbot said nothing, waiting for the laird to speak.
    “Were any of their ships sitting off the coast?”
    “We can go after them.”
    “If they had enough men, they would have laid siege to Craignock.”
    “They must have only a few ships.”
    “We set a trap in Oban.”
    “Nay, they’re laying a trap for us.”
    “Laird, I told you it would bring disaster taking the Macpherson ship. If you’d only—”
    “Enough!” The laird slammed his cup on a table beside him, sloshing ale on the scarred wood surface. He addressed the abbot. “Emily and Kenna. How do they fare?”
    “Very well, m’lord. They’re being kept together, and they were in good health and spirits when I took leave of them.”
    The MacDougall looked down, twisting a large gold ring on his finger. The ruby inset glittered in the torchlight.
    “And how did Alexander Macpherson react when he realized he’d kidnapped his own wife?”
    “They were both astonished, m’lord.” Saying less was the best course, the abbot decided.
    “You say we can