Sorcha by Keira Montclair

Author:Keira Montclair [Montclair, Keira]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Highland
Published: 2017-05-02T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Glenn of Buchan paced the dais in his great hall, a hall full of his best warriors and many new ones he’d drawn into his lair, all awaiting his announcement. His dream of controlling the Highlands was about to come to fruition. He’d had no idea the chance would come again so soon.

The Grant had been taken out, but they had no idea whether or not he still lived. He wished he’d struck the bastard down himself.

He stopped his pacing, waiting for the animals in front of him to end their trite talk and give him their full attention. When all was quiet, he continued.

“The Grant is down.”

The hall erupted into cheers and applause, boots stomping on the stone floor as the men hooted their pleasure. He let them continue, secretly pleased with their response. They wanted this as much as he did.

He raised his arms to silence them.

“I wish to congratulate all of you on our first successful attack on the Ramsays. Aye, ‘twas a small attack, and many men fell, but it did what I wished it to do. It has them in chaos as they scramble to ready their defenses. I want them confused. Attacks at the Grants followed by an attack at the Ramsays will make them uncertain as to where to go next, where to concentrate their forces. I’m pleased with what we were able to accomplish with such a small assault.

“In our travels since the Grant went down, I’ve encountered several men who have volunteered to join our ranks, anxious to twist the balance of power in the Highlands at long last.” He nodded to a guard by the door, who held it open while several men marched into the hall, moving to the front of the cavernous space to stand before him.

As soon as word had reached him about the Grant’s injuries, he’d made it a point to travel the Highlands searching for lost fighters.

And he’d found them. He’d encountered many who had just come from the battle, and others who’d tired of all the Grants and Ramsays. He couldn’t be more pleased.

Hellfire, but he’d waited a long time for this to happen. Wresting power away from the two united clans was a dream he’d shared with his own two sons, Dugald and Cormag, and the neighboring laird, Ranulf MacNiven. One day, they’d pledged, they would reign over the other clans in the Highlands. All three men were now dead, killed by the Ramsays and the Grants. Only his dear daughter, Davina, had been left to him. But his dream had not died. He had carefully built up his army of warriors in anticipation of another battle. One he would finally win.

That day was here. With the Grant down, the best place to do battle was at Grant castle since he guessed they were in a turmoil. His sources told him the Grant had gone to Cameron land, and perhaps he was being put to rest near Lochluin Abbey. Some had tried to talk him into attacking the Camerons, but that was a line he would not cross.

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