Parris Afton Bonds

Parris Afton Bonds by The Captive Page A

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Authors: The Captive
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murmured.
    "Did you expect a block and ax?" Jamie teased.
    “I stay with milady, ye maggot of a—"
    Enya whirled b ack to the doorway, where Elspeth and Mary Laurie were being hustled away by the kilted men.
    "They will be given a room not far from this," Jamie said at her side.
    Enya flashed him a withering look. "You expect me to be pleased. The room is no larger than a monk’s cell."
    "We occupied the place less than a month ago. The best —and safest—winter accommodations Ranald could find at the last moment.” His Friar-Tuck cheer gave way to a truly contrite expression. "When you are settled in it will be easier for all of you.”
    "I demand to see your cousin —Ranald Kincairn—when he arrives.”
    “ You already have."

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
    H ow long, O Lord? Wilt Thou forget me forever?
    How long wilt Thou hide Thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart all the day?
    How long will my enemy be exalted over me?
     
     
    Ranald Kincairn closed the Bible, a translated version ordered centuries earlier by the Scottish king, James. He gave an utterance that was half groan, half sigh. It seem ed to him that, like the biblical David, his success in battle, in the war he waged, ebbed and flowed according to his own doubts.
    From his most recent visit to Fort William, appearances indicated that the bastion was being further fortified with each pass ing week. English troops were quartered in every house, store, and stable.
    Were it not for Jamie ’s abiding friendship, support, and, aye, love, he could not have continued to lead the Cameron clan ere this long. Jamie was his biblical Aaron, supporting Moses’s hands aloft so that the battle would continue to wax in the Israelites’ favor.
    At the foot of his chair, the old collie Thane snorted in its sleep. Ranald ruffled its shaggy coat, then shut h is eyes and rested his head against the chair’s high-paneled back.
    Could he really expect to defeat the might of the English with only a handful of men? Some of his reivers followed him, not out of patriotism, but because of money, maintenance, or promise of loot. The scattered numbers of loyal clansmen amounted to a mere thousand, give or take a couple hundred, depending on the time of year: calving season, harvest, shearing time, the birth of a bairn, the death of a loved one.
    Loved ones. He could not eve n protect his own loved ones. Images fleeted across the back of his lids of his mother, his aunt, his brothers, and other family members, all tortured and murdered by the English for no more reason than they were Highlanders.
    Mhorag ’s haunted eyes followed him even into his dreams. He could not restore his sister’s innocence, lost four years ago. But he could take vengeance on his sister’s violator.
    He thought of the woman who had just passed his study. Murdock ’s wife. For all that she was highborn, she was a scrapper, that one. She would scratch and hiss and hurl things.
    Not wholly unlike Mhorag. But Mhorag contained her heart. And contained her hate. Mayhap, if she would but loose the raging beast inside her that fed on her pent-up hate, the beast would ru n out of fuel eventually. Now, even here at Castle Lochaber, the beast was feeding on her from within.
    The witches of auld would know what to do for her. He didn ’t. All he knew to do was fight. With his last breath he would fight, for all that it would gain him.
    Outnumbered, he could not expect to hold the line. He could only vanish and reappear again with his men. He could not gather his forces for an Armageddon but for a slow wearing out by confrontation. The isolation of the Highlands ’ treacherous geography was on his side.
    There, in the Bible, were laid out David ’s and Joshua's own strategy plans. The object was not to maintain territory but to dispirit the opposition. Make them pay a higher price than they were willing to pay.
    Just how much would Simon Murdock pay for what was left

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