“Hector is much admired by the men of the clan as a strong warrior,” he told her. “He’s a bold and charismatic leader, the sort men are willing to follow into battle. He has won many victories for our clan over the years.”
“And his bad side?”
“He’s a conniving master of deception whose first concern is always himself,” Rory said. “The MacDonalds are our most powerful enemy. Yet Hector provokes neighboring clans, like the Munros and the Grants, who should be allies, with unwarranted attacks for no reason except to enhance his reputation as a great warrior. He endangers the clan to make himself, as the great war leader, seem indispensable.”
“If your uncle is so popular with your clansmen,” she said, “it will be a challenge to take your place as chieftain without alienating half your clan.”
“He’s been leading the clan for years now, and the men think they know him,” he said. “But they don’t know him like I do. The fight between us will be bloody, but I’ll not let him take my place and lead our clan to ruin.”
Fury burned in his belly as he imagined breaking down the barred gate at Eilean Donan.
“Surely it would be better,” Sybil said, tugging at his sleeve, “to find a way to gain the chieftainship without spilling the blood of your clansmen.”
“I don’t see a way to avoid it,” he said. “Hector will not go easily.”
“How strong is his support?”
“Strong, especially in the west, where he’s fought the MacDonalds for twenty years, and up in Gairloch in the northwest, where he has lands in his own right.” Rory took a deep breath. The task before him was daunting.
“If he is strong, then we’ll have to be quick and clever,” she said in cheerful tone. “A bit of trickery may be needed as well.”
“Ach, ye sound like a Highlander,” he said. “In Gaelic we say,an té nach mbíonn láidir ní folláir dó bheith glic.”He who is not strong must be cunning.
“A powerful ally would be helpful.” She tapped her finger against her chin, then gave him a sideways glance. “I don’t suppose ye have one of those?”
Rory heaved a sigh. “I may.”
“That’s good news,” she said. “Who is it?”
“My mother’s brother is the Fraser chieftain, Lord Lovat.”
“I’ve seen him at court,” she said.
“Lovat is a powerful man in his own right,” Rory said. “He’s also close to Lord Huntly, the crown’s deputy in the north.”
“Huntly, the so-called Cock of the North? Excellent!” she said. “But why don’t ye look pleased? Such powerful allies will help your cause considerably.”
“I know them too well,” Rory said. “If Lovat and Huntly help me, they’ll think they own me.”
“Then they don’t know ye very well, now do they?” Sybil said with a grin.
Rory cupped her cheek. Odd how this lass could make him feel that the obstacles that stood in his way were not so great and that he could overcome any challenge with her at his side.
“I must first go to Killin and gather support among my own clan,” Rory said. “But then we’ll pay a visit on Lord Lovat and ask for his help.”
***
Rory’s willingness to listen to her and take advice made Sybil flush with pleasure—until she realized the danger the visit to Lovat would put her in.
“What if Lord Lovat recognizes me?” Her hand went to her throat. “I can’t go with ye.”
“Ye needn’t fear the queen any longer,” Rory said. “The crown needs the MacKenzies to contain the MacDonalds. No matter what the queen might wish, the regent and King’s Council will not risk offending the new MacKenzie chieftain by attempting to arrest my wife.”
But she was not his wife, merely his lover. And how long would she be that once he was made chieftain?
“Ach, I can see that was poor reassurance,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek, “after I’ve told ye the challenges I face to become chieftain.”
“Ye will succeed.” She was determined that he would.