Chapter 13

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Mother's sitting room was in disarray. Maps and loose pages of parchment were scattered across the room. Half-written letters, battle plans marked up with thick lines of ink. The papers were draped over the backs of chairs and hung over the edge of the mantle. Trays of half-eaten food sat forgotten on tabletops. Flies buzzed idly through the scraps. The typically feminine haven of mild and airy pastels and low-voiced women was cramped, dark, and wrecked. My father and brothers looked like giants perched upon Mother's delicate and ornamental furniture.

"Eilean, finally, there you are," Mother said, placing a hand on her bosom as I entered the room. As if she had feared something tragic had befallen me.

"I've been around," I said, scanning the room, uncomfortable with her pantomimed concern. "Have you been looking for me?"

"Your father and I need to tell you something. It's quite serious," She sidestepped my question, as was her general practice.

"About the letter? The Mainland invasion? I know all about it. I read it," I pulled the message from my pocket and tossed it onto the lacquered writing table where Mother and Father sat. "Who do you think found the boys?" I asked, nodding to Rupert and Ian who stood behind my parents. They looked at me with something like respect.

Mother opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "All the guests have left to make their own preparations. The castle has turned itself inside out — there isn't a single strip of salt pork left in the larder. Or an unrolled scrap of fabric." I took no care to temper the flippancy and annoyance in my tone. I was tired and furious. Irate at having been forgotten. The old wound opened up with bitter repugnancy.

"I don't like your tone, Eilean," Father warned, looking up from a detailed map of the Mainland."

"And I don't like being treated as if I don't exist. As if I don't have a stake in this war." I crossed my arms and stared him down, hot with newly gained defiance. Where it had come from was a mystery, though Father's desire to manipulate Alex was a considerable factor.

My brothers looked up, halting whatever tasks on which they were working. John frowned with slight annoyance, but the rest of them smiled, their eyes glinting in anticipation of what I might do. I was no longer a stranger to my brothers. They had helped me find my voice over the past few months. But Mother and Father? They still thought I was the soft girl in frills, not a MacLeod in her own right. A long moment passed, the air thick. Mother's enormous grandfather clock ticked noisily.

"Now, now, it has been a long day. We're all on edge, are we not?" Mother's voice was as sweet as honey, but her expression was sharp and full of warning. "We owe you our gratitude, Eilean, for seeing our guests on their way and managing the house so splendidly today."

"I'm not interested in gratitude. I'm interested in knowing what the plan is." Picking up a crumpled piece of parchment, I studied it. It was a list of every Island Lord and the number of men they could supply. The total was in the hundreds of thousands. It made my stomach hollow out. I let the page slip from my fingers in shock.

"We leave in a week. Your brothers and all the eligible men from Ellesmure will make up our forces." Father said, turning back to his work as if that was all there was to know.

"Yes," Mother answered, smoothing her skirts. "And I am traveling with your father."

"What?" I blinked. I looked around the room and met each of my brother's stare. They looked away guiltily. "You're all going?"

"Yes," John said with a tight nod.

"Even Ian?" I asked. Maybe it was a cruel assumption that he would not be counted amongst the fighting men. His extensive knowledge on all subjects and level-headed demeanor made him seem the most likely to run the Island in my father's absence.

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