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dead. But you have a sister, don’t you?’ He released the man’s throat and ordered, ‘You have until the Feast of Saint Agatha to bring me the first head. Or I’ll take your daughter’s instead.’
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    Alex brought Laren back to Glen Arrin the following morning. When she departed, the first place she went was towards Father Nolan’s cavern on the far side of the loch. Frustration seeped through his mind and heart. Last night, he’d hoped to convince her to try harder, to be strong and stand at his side instead of abandoning him. But he’d begun to realise that Laren wasn’t going to change.
    When it had just been the two of them and young Mairin, Laren had been a different woman. She’d devoted her time to their baby, spending her free hours weaving. She’d always had an eye for colour, and he’d marvelled at the vivid tapestries she’d woven.
    But, most of all, he remembered the way she would stop whatever she was working on and fly into his arms, greeting him with a warm kiss. He’d thrived upon her affection, looking forward to it at the end of each day.
    Now, she rarely offered a kiss in greeting or in farewell. He missed that.
    He watched Laren disappear along the shores of the loch, her red hair streaming out behind her from beneath the mantle she wore. And with every step she took away from him, it hurt a little more.
    Alex took a breath and turned back to the task of settingdown the new foundation. He’d widened the space, making it larger than it was before. The structure of the keep was now the size of a Norman castle, one sizeable enough to keep several families together.
    Bram was the first to notice what he’d done. ‘This won’t work, Brother. It’ll take three times as long to build it from wood.’
    â€˜Not wood. Stone.’ Alex stood up and pointed to the hills. ‘We’ll need to bring wagons up to the quarry, but this has to last longer. And the danger of fire is less.’
    â€˜We don’t have the men to build something that large,’ Bram argued. ‘Has your mind gone soft?’
    â€˜It’s what our father wanted,’ Alex reminded him. When they’d been growing up, he well remembered sitting at Tavin’s knee, hearing the promises his father had made. One day, the MacKinlochs would be strong enough to have a castle of their own. As a young boy, he’d looked up to his father, wanting so badly to make him proud.
    And though Alex knew he wasn’t the chief Tavin had wanted, he could give him this legacy.
    â€˜We’ll build it in stages, starting with an outer wall.’ Alex nodded toward the horizon. ‘Lord Harkirk is going to attack again, so we’ll need that defence.’
    â€˜We’d need twelve walls to hold him off,’ Bram argued. From the doubt upon his brother’s face, Alex knew he had a lot of convincing to do.
    When they passed the stables, he saw that Dougal had built a makeshift shelter for the horses with Callum’s help. The two men walked forwards to join them and Alex complimented him. ‘The shelter looks good.’
    Dougal acknowledged the compliment with a half-smile, but it faded. ‘I thought you should know…Brodieis going east, to Perth. He’s planning to live with his wife’s family at the Murrays.’
    â€˜We need every man to stay, if we want to rebuild Glen Arrin,’ Alex insisted.
    Bram could only shrug. ‘You’ll have to talk to them.’
    Alex didn’t answer. He knew he had to bring them together, but would words accomplish anything? Too many had lost so much.
    â€˜Tell the others I want to talk with them tonight, then gather a group of men to go to the quarry,’ he told Bram. To Dougal and Callum, he instructed, ‘Prepare the horses and wagons.’ It was going to take the better part of a year to finish a castle, but, if they worked hard over the next few weeks,