“I would have to agree with ye there,” Finn said. “How did it happen?”
“He was killed up in Thurso. Murdered by the Gunns.”
Why would the Gunns commit such a crime? It made no sense. They were a small clan that would not benefit from Duffus’s death, at least not directly.
“How do ye know it was the Gunns that did it?” Finn asked.
“We caught one of them,” Seamus said. “He admitted they were bribed by the Bishop of Caithness, Andrew Stewart.”
That was unfortunate. The culprit was a Stewartanda bishop, which meant obtaining justice would be no easy matter. But a bribe would explain why the Gunns did the killing.
“If it was the bishop,” Finn asked, “why are ye here threatening my cousin Alex Òg?”
“Ye know as well as I do that the bishop did it at the behest of his kinsman, that sly Gordon dog, the Earl of Sutherland,” Seamus said. “The Gordons are at the root of this conspiracy to murder my father.”
When Seamus stumbled forward a step, Finn suspected he’d been drinking.
“Ye don’t know the Gordons were involved,” Finn said. “And I can promise ye Alex had nothing to do with it. Did ye, Alex?”
“Nay!” Alex called out behind him.
“My father had a claim to the Earldom of Sutherland,” Seamus said, weaving on his feet as he waved his sword. “His father had mine murdered to make certain the Sutherland lands and title passed to him.”
Unfortunately, that did sound like a plausible explanation.
“Justice demands I deny that Gordon scum what he hoped to gain by this murder and kill his only son and heir,” Seamus said. “An eye for an eye!”
“Come, Seamus, ye don’t have the stomach to kill an innocent lad who’s not even full grown,” Finn said.
“I must avenge my father,” Seamus said, but Finn could tell he was weakening.
“I’d hate to have to kill ye over this, but we both know I’m the better swordsman,” Finn said, and pulled out his flask. “Let’s have a drink and discuss how ye can obtain justice against the men ye know are guilty—the Gunns and the bishop.”
When Seamus finally dropped his sword, Finn drew in a deep breath. It took an hour and all of his whisky to persuade Seamus to go to the King’s Council in Edinburgh to make his allegations against the bishop and demand justice. He’d be lucky if he persuaded the council to punish a couple of the priests who assisted the bishop, but Seamus was well suited for that kind of fight.
And it would keep Seamus out of the reach of Finn’s uncle.
###
Finn pushed aside the guards posted outside his uncle’s chamber and flung the door open.
“I need a private word with my nephew,” his uncle said, dismissing the guards who had followed Finn inside with their swords drawn.
“Did you and the bishop have Sutherland of Duffus murdered?” Finn demanded as soon as the guards closed the door.
His uncle raised one eyebrow and asked in a pleasant tone, “Is he dead?”
Finn shared what Seamus had told him of the murder.
“I doubt the bishop was involved,” his uncle said. “But if he did undertake this vile act to protect my family’s interests, he did so without my knowledge.”
Finn did not know whether to believe him. But one thing was certain—if his uncle was involved, no one could ever prove it.
“While I had no part in Duffus’s murder,” his uncle said, raising his cup, “I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Why?” Finn asked. “Duffus was an old man. In all these years, he never challenged your right to the title.”
“He could have, so there was always a risk he would,” he said. “As I told ye before, many of these Sutherlands would prefer to have one of their own serve as their laird, and they resent how the title passed to a Gordon—though it was entirely legitimate.”