the power.”
“Aye, but….” Could it really be that simple? Hope flared inside him.
“Ye are a guid laird and a guid chieftain, Ciaran. But ye have come tae far tae give up now. Ye arenae done yet, lad.”
She was right; he wasn’t done yet. Ciaran gave Maggie a nod and turned and went down the tower stairwell. He didn’t stop until he reached the great hall.
Men sat at the tables breaking their fast, as though Ciaran was not waging a war in his head. Life carried on as usual. Most of his men looked up at him, but no one made a move to stop him. He got a few nods, but he didn’t return them. Instead, he went straight to the laird’s table, where Patrick, Marcus, Angus, and Ram were eating. He glanced up at his father’s sword, with Maggie’s words ringing in his ears. This piece of metal called to him, reminding him of all he’d lost and all he had yet to gain. It shone like a symbol, a sign of what he could accomplish. It was a reminder. A reminder he apparently needed. A reminder of his father and his clan and his duties. He’d been wrong to leave it here all these years. It should have been with him the entire time.
“What are you doing?” Patrick rose from his seat and came to stand beside him.
Instead of answering, Ciaran dragged the bench nearest them over to the fireplace with a loud screech. He climbed up on it and got the sword down.
“’Bout damn time,” Ram mumbled behind him.
Ciaran ignored his cousin, marveling at the feel of the blade in his hands. It felt cool to the touch but full of life. Full of memories. Even when he’d put it up there, it had seemed so heavy. Perhaps it was just the burden the sword carried with it, but now… it felt right. He turned to Patrick, Marcus, and Angus, who all stood there watching him with puzzled expressions. “I’m going tae talk tae our king about this mess with the IN. Then I’m going tae Regelence and make a deal with their king.” He jumped off the bench with Dìonach Na Sìthe in his hand.
Angus’s brows rose, and a slow smile stretched his lips.
Patrick nodded. “By my calculations, you have just about the right amount of time to get to the capital and back before our lift arrives.”
“And? Then what are you going to do?” Marcus prompted with a smirk.
“Then I’m going tae get Red back.”
“What about the council?” Maggie asked from the bottom of the tower stairs.
“Fuck the council.”
The entire great hall erupted in cheers.
§ § § §
July 15, 4831: Thompson House, Classige, Pruluce
“What is this?”
Bannon moved his paintbrush from the canvas and stepped back, studying his work. It was the perfect representation of his emotional state. Turmoil. Perhaps that was what he’d title this piece. He did not typically do abstract art, but the deep blues and blacks with hints of red really spoke to him.
“What happened to the castle, mountains, and lakes?” Dalton’s boots clicked on the stone floor as he came farther into the room, then became muffled as he stepped onto the tarp Bannon had over the floor to catch paint. “And why are you using real paint instead of your sketchscreen?”
“I didn’t feel like painting landscapes anymore.” He glanced around the room he’d appropriated as his art studio. There were canvases leaning against all the walls, landscapes of Skye: Lochwood Castle, Agatha’s cottage, Loch Sterling…. “I wanted to get my hands dirty.” He wanted to feel the paint. It was kind of silly, he knew, but somehow this made him feel closer to Ciaran. Maybe because if he was still on Skye, he’d have to paint this way, since there was no technology. “I’m in my blue period.” His gaze drifted to the ten canvases he’d tried to do portraits of Ciaran. They were all in different stages of completion, ranging from pencil drawings to nearly complete oil paintings, but none of them were done. He just couldn’t make himself finish them.
Dalton chuckled, crossed his arms, and cocked his head to the side, studying the painting. He cocked his head the other way, then finally reached out and flipped the painting sideways on the easel.
Growling at his brother-in-law, Bannon turned the canvas back.
Dalton made a humming sound and finally said, “This is shit, Bannon.”
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the castle?”
“I just got back from the castle. I