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held the upper hand; he possessed the
thing McMurdo wanted most, including gold. The burial tomb in the
church.
    “Is that gold coins?” Haldane
asked.
    McMurdo let out a resigned breath.
“Gold and silver,” he admitted grudgingly.
    “Where did you get it?”
    “I found it in Dirk MacKay’s tent
after he followed MacLeod.”
    “Let me see.” Haldane held out his
hand. “Any MacKay money is my money, in truth, for I’m the rightful
heir to the chiefdom and barony.”
    McMurdo glared, his lip twitching in a
near snarl, but he handed over the leather pouch. ’Twas heavy and
it filled Haldane’s palm. He pulled open the drawstring to find it
full of gold and silver coins. “Saints! ’Tis a fortune.”
    McMurdo nodded. “Just a little more
than I paid for my burial place in the church.”
    “Since you turned this over to me, you
will still have your beloved tomb. We can use this to hire
mercenaries. With more men, we’ll be able to take down Dirk and
anyone else who gets in our way.”
    “’ Tis a brilliant plan. If
you can find skilled mercenaries. Not too many of them in the wilds
of the Highlands,” McMurdo muttered.
    “I’ll find men desperate for work.
Have no worries.”
    McMurdo shrugged and
mounted.
    Haldane was well aware McMurdo
would’ve kept the money a secret, but he had to admit the old man
was incredibly lucky and canny to have found it. Now, they but had
to catch up to Dirk and his party again. A new plan was forming in
his mind.
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
    The MacKay party moved south as
quickly as they could without overtiring the horses. Although
Keegan was tired and his arse numb, Seona had to be feeling a
hundred times worse from the effects of their long journey. They
needed to put a lot of ground between themselves and the outlaws
and arrive at Teasairg Castle as soon as possible. The only problem
was few castles existed in the many miles between Munrick and
Teasairg. The MacLeods and the MacKenzies each held substantial
amounts of land.
    Midafternoon, ominous black clouds
crept over the mountains from the west and the breeze picked
up.
    Dirk glanced back at Keegan. “The sky
is looking a wee unfriendly, cousin.”
    “Aye. ’Haps we can make it to those
cliffs ahead before the worst of it hits. That might block most of
the wind.”
    Dirk nodded and called out, “Quicken
your pace! Gale storm coming.”
    The riders kicked their horses into
faster trots and gallops. The cliffs looked deceptively close
because of their massive size. By the time they neared the cliffs,
the sky overhead was black. The fierce wind flung a few raindrops
sideways and almost pushed their mounts off the narrow trail.
Thankfully, the horses were accustomed to unexpected gales and
didn’t get overly spooked by the storm.
    The drops stung Keegan’s
face but he ignored them, trying to ride closer to Seona where she
was hunched in the saddle, the wind whipping her plaid wool arisaid . He’d noticed
before ’twas a high quality tight weave that would keep most of the
moisture out.
    One of the lead horses reared, drawing
Keegan’s attention to the herd of red deer that tore out and fled
by the cliffs.
    Within moments, the deer had
disappeared from sight. Keegan turned his attention back to Seona,
but her black mare had become unruly, tossing her head about, then
she bolted off the trail and across the moor.
    “Saints,” Keegan hissed, kicking his
horse into a gallop and following her over the uneven terrain. He
prayed she would hold on. After a shouted command at the horse, she
hadn’t uttered another sound that he could hear above the brutal
wind. He was proud to see she leaned low over the horse’s neck and
held the reins tight.
    She was good with horses, but
apparently the mare she’d brought with her to Dunnakeil last fall
was skittish. If he’d known, he would’ve let her borrow a different
one.
    Keegan kept pace about twenty feet
behind her. He needed to approach without spooking the daft