Isla's Heart

Landfall

Gills, as always, was sweet talking his favorite serving wench in the corner. Isla approached him carefully, truly sorry to break up the couple's private moment, but knowing he'd put his duty to Conall above his carnal needs. Though, Isla knew now, just how insistent those needs could truly be.

"This could not wait until after Sarah went back to her duties?"

The whine in his raspy voice made Isla smile, this earned her a hard glare.

"I am sorry Gills, but I need to speak with you about something I've remembered about Alasdair's last days.", When he raised an eyebrow in interest, she continued, "He came to visit my father often right before the illness made it impossible, and they, both Cat and my father, sat with him for many hours in closeness. This hadn't been the case beforehand. Cat was rarely allowed to keep their company, yet suddenly she was privy to their every confidence. It had to be about more than just the betrothal, don't you agree?"

Gills did not say much, seeming to mull over the information before he spoke, "I wouldn't put anything passed that bastard, Alasdair... Beg your pardon, Lady Isla."

"Oh please, you've hardly been proper with me in the past, do not start now when we have serious matters to discuss."

An approving smile lit up Gills face and he continued. "I wonder..."

"What? Go on." Isla prompted when Gills speech trailed off.

"It's just an odd thought but do you think Alasdair could have planned this entire thing? Knowing he was dying, his hatred for Conall never fading.... Could he have planned this entire thing to have Conall killed?"

Isla had never known Alasdair well, but since coming to Cameron Keep she'd heard enough about his bitterness towards his son... his nephew, to know that nothing was impossible in his hatred for Conall.

By God! That was it!

He'd planned this thing from the beginning. Bringing Conall here had only been a ruse to finally bring his sick justice against Conall... He'd always intended to hand the castle over to her father! However misguided that idea, Gawain would run the place into the ground in under a month's time. Did Alasdair truly care so little for the small kingdom he'd built? Though, she had heard him refer to it as cursed, in those final visits. Mayhap he was glad to finally be ride of the place.

The Mackenzie clan was already cursed, what was a bit more?

Placing her small hands on Gills massive chest she pushed him, "You must find Conall and warn him! No one should be trusted." She warned in a frantic whisper.

Gills took to his feet at a run and Isla watched feeling helpless to do more now that she knew the truth. She expected this of her father, she even knew to expect it of Alasdair Cameron, but how and why would her sister ever take part in such a horrible plan? Looking around her she let her eyes settle on every head in the hall.

Who else knew?

Were any of them to be trusted?

Spotting Alasdair's steward, she wondered how much did Hamish know and what was he hiding? Relaxing her concerned face into a facade of calm, she approached the small balding man.

When he spotted her, he bowed and offered a friendly smile, "How may I help you, milady?" 

"I wish to speak with you in private, if you please?", Isla had no idea if she was taking the right course of action, but she had to do what she could to keep Conall safe. She may want to kill him herself for ignoring her after what they'd shared the night before, but she'd die before she'd let someone else cause him harm.

It was obvious Hamish found their privacy in the secluded chamber improper, but he kept his opinion to himself. As games were not Isla's talent, she got straight to the point, "Did Alasdair plan Conall's death?"

The forthright question caused the steward to stutter but he recovered quickly, raising shocked eyebrows at Isla, "I don't know what you speak of, my Lady. Alasdair wished nothing more than to have a Cameron in control of the estate...even if The Black Wolf was not his first choice."

Odd that he'd not used Conall's given name.

"I think you are a liar, Hamish.",  She crossed the room to stand directly in front of the stout man, her nose mere inches from his, "The Black Wolf, as you call him, won't tolerate a menacing liar among his clan." Her voice did not waver and even she was shocked at the menace that laced her words.

Love was a strange drug that gave her courage.

Hamish's ruddy face turned bright red and Isla thought his head might pop right off his stubby neck, "How dare you threaten me and mangle my good Laird's name! That bastard, you call Laird, will never be as strong as Alasdair Cameron!"

"Those are damning words, Hamish."

The Dark Wolf had arrived.