was burly. “Last night when ye were out, someone reaved our chickens.”
Again they all started talking at once.
This was getting them nowhere in a hurry. “Enough!” Ciaran moved forward a few steps, making those on the love seat and chair look up at him. “The guests are staying. We dinna ken that the attacks have stopped fer guid. Actually….” He did not want to say anything until he knew for sure, but he also didn’t want to listen to more talk about ousting Red and Louisa from the castle. “I have reason tae believe that the outsiders who attacked us are in league with the MacLeans. Yestereve, while searching fer our missing cattle, I came upon men building a structure on MacLean land. I’m going tae set up a scouting party tae watch the structure and report back tae me.”
“How do ye ken it’s outsiders? Mayhaps it’s MacLeans?” Frasier asked. Raising one bushy brown brow, he stared at Ciaran, waiting for his reply.
Ciaran shook his head. “Nae, the MacLeans are nae so advanced. The building process is much tae quick, and the building is tae large, fer them tae have made this kind of progress. There was nothing there yesterday, and today they have an entire foundation. The cement is tae smooth. They poured it from barrels, instead of mixing it, and spread it there.”
Sniff. Gavin raised his chin. “Then how exactly do ye ken these outsiders ye’ve brought home with ye are nae involved?”
“Why would these outsiders stop their attacks and then suddenly start building here? That makes nae sense. They have tae ken we would fight them,” Maggie asked at nearly the same time.
“There have been great advancements in cement. How close were ye?” Owen wanted to know.
Ciaran’s head swam with all the questions flying at him. He chose to ignore Maggie and Owen and focus on Frasier. “Nae that close. We were on the ridge. The building is directly between the ridge and Dris Abbey. I am going tae have my men keep watch on the ridge, starting today.”
Frasier reached up and stroked the gray-and-brown braid hanging from his chin. “Ye are going tae spy on our allies?”
“They arenae our allies.”
“The MacLeans arenae our enemy,” Owen said.
Ciaran sighed. “They arenae our allies either. Are ye forgetting that they refused tae join in our patrols tae help fight off the outsiders?”
“Aye, but we dinna want tae make them enemies by spying on them,” Owen said as if it was quite logical.
It was the most asinine…. Ciaran ran a hand through his hair.
“Ye have given us nae proof this building is nae the MacLeans’,” Maggie interjected.
“Call it a hunch,” he continued. “They were dressed like outsiders, and Patrick agrees with me.”
Gavin’s head jerked up. Sniff. “Ye are conspiring with the Campbells without notifying us? Ye overstep, boy.”
“I am the laird.”
“Then act like it!” Maggie stood and walked around the edge of the desk. “This is ridiculous. While ye were out cavorting with outsiders and trying tae avenge ye father, we lost a dozen chickens and all the eggs they laid. Ye need tae have ye men out looking fer our cattle, nae spying on the MacLeans.”
“Aye.” Frasier nodded his agreement. “Breakfast was verra slim this morn, and ye have brought more mouths tae feed.”
“I say we give the lad some time. Let him interrogate the prisoners,” Owen said.
“They arenae my….” Ciaran stopped. Red and Louisa were not technically prisoners, even if he was having them guarded.
“Ye have a day. Then they need tae be gone.” Standing straight, Maggie peered down her long nose at him, daring him to argue.
“I am laird, and they leave when I say they leave.” Ciaran dipped his head and started toward the door. “Now if there is nothing else….”
Frasier’s voice brought him up short. “Ye may be the laird, lad, but we can vote ye out as chieftain.”
Ice water ran through Ciaran’s veins, and his jaw clenched so hard, it was painful. The removal of a chieftain had not happened since before Ciaran’s great-great-great-grandfather, Lachlan MacKay, was rewarded an earldom from the king for his bravery in the civil war. From then on, the position of chieftain became an inherited position, handed down to heirs along with the title, and Ciaran wasn’t about to give it up. He turned to confront Frasier, but Stuart’s voice cut him off.
The old man stood and turned toward Frasier and cut his hand through the air. “Everyone needs tae calm themselves.” When the council quieted down, he turned