rocky trail toward the cave. Argument was futile. The time had come for action.
He’d made it halfway to the cave before Deacon yanked him back. “I can’t let you do it, Tiebauld. Robbie and I have worked too hard for this.” He knocked the torch out of Aidan’s hand.
But Aidan was taller, stronger. He easily pushed Deacon aside and lunged for the torch wedged against a rock. He picked it up and had gone four steps when Deacon called out, “Tiebauld! Halt, or I’ll slit your wife’s throat.”
Aidan froze. Slowly, he turned. Deacon held Anne captive, the honed blade of his knife pressing into the tender skin of her neck. A bead of blood appeared.
The people of Kelwin were stretched out behind them. Some were on the beach. Others had climbed the rocks for a better view of what was happening.
All were soberly silent.
Aidan lifted his hand, palm out. “Deacon, no. You mustn’t hurt Anne. She is an innocent.”
“You were on our side before she appeared,” Deacon told him roundly. “Don’t think of her as guiltless. She has hobbled you, man. She’s taken away your fire.”
“She’s my life,” Aidan said quietly. “If you hurt her, then you hurt me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Deacon said. “We’re friends, cousins. But I can’t let you destroy the gunpowder—”
Anne interrupted him, her clear voice carrying so all could hear, “Aidan, destroy the gunpowder. Destroy all of it. It’s the only way.”
“Shut up,” Deacon ordered.
Suddenly, a child screamed. It was Marie, Cora’s niece, who stood with several other children on an outcrop of rocks. Her eyes wide with fright, she cried to Deacon, “Don’t hurt my lady!” When he didn’t move, she turned to Cora, who was already hurrying up from the beach to reach her. “Do something, Cora! He’s going to hurt my lady!”
Cora quickly swept the weeping child up in her arms. “Deacon, let Lady Tiebauld go. Please.” When he didn’t move, she pleaded, “For us, Deacon. Please, for us.”
“I can’t,” he said. “If I do, Robbie and I will have nothing left.”
“If you kill my lady, it will be murder, Deacon, and I’ll have nothing to do with you. You told me you wanted to be a better man, and yet look at you.”
“Cora, you don’t understand,” Deacon said.
“I understand you want something you can’t have. Your land is gone, Deacon. Gone. All that’s left is revenge.”
“And my pride!” he fired back.
Cora shook her head. “You can’t build anything on pride.”
Aidan looked from Cora to Deacon. His gaze met Anne’s. Brave, stubborn Anne. She even smiled at him. “There must be a better way to fight the wrongs done us than war,” he said. “I’m going to explode the gunpowder.”
“But what of Anne?” Deacon asked.
“I’ll kill you with bare hands if you hurt one hair on her head.”
Anne added, “He will, too.”
Her plucky response startled a laugh out of the onlookers. Aidan grinned with pride. “If you weren’t made to be a laird’s wife, I’ve never met one who is,” he told her.
“Oh, no,” she countered gamely. “I was meant to be a countess. Now, blow up the gunpowder. And, Marie—?”
The child in Cora’s arms said in a watery tone, “Yes, my lady?”
“Have courage.”
“I love you, Anne,” Aidan said.
“I love you, Aidan Black,” she echoed as he started up toward the cave.
He then shouted to those of his clan on the beach and up and down the paths. “Run, all of you. I don’t know what will happen when the gunpowder explodes.” He turned and charged the cave.
“Tiebauld!” Deacon shouted.
But Aidan wouldn’t stop. Inside the cave, the roar of the sea echoed in the cavern. He kicked open one of the kegs of gunpowder. The smell of sulfur and salt peter twitched his nostrils. He lifted the broken keg and started back toward the entrance, a trail of black powder behind him.
Suddenly, the torch was yanked out of his hands. He turned. Deacon.
For a second, the two men stared at each other. Between them had been many good nights of camaraderie, of laughter, of sharing of dreams, hopes, and plans for the future. If he had a brother, it was this man.
“Your wife is not harmed,” Deacon said. “I couldn’t hurt Anne. Now go. I’ll set the fire. This way, when Robbie asks who the traitor is, I can say it was me.”
“Then let me—”
“No.” Deacon backed away. “Cora makes me think.” He studied a point past Aidan’s shoulder, his words measured. “I don’t know what is right or wrong