Isla's Heart

Beginning of the End

Conall had built a report with a few of the men he'd been training, a dozen or so villagers, and the kitchen staff had grown warm towards him.... He didn't know if he could trust any of them, but aside from Gills, they were all he had. He'd spent the morning putting a small  group together to back him as he started making moves against the Mackenzies.

Patience running thin, he barked out orders for his small group to bring Hamish to the dungeon beneath the keep. They were to make it as quiet and secret as possible, no one could know what he'd discovered from the rotten little man. After, he blindly set forth for his chambers, confusion and anger beat down upon him until he was certain his knees would give out on him. Only need to show everyone he'd not yet been bested kept Conall from collapsing. Once there, he sprawled across his bed and flung one arm over his eyes.

He needed darkness and deep uninterrupted silence, but knew he'd find neither here. His mind stormed with too many questions and longings he could not name. Grasping for the least painful thread, he targeted Hamish, Caleb and Lady Catriona. He envisioned them brought to their knees begging for mercy. Satisfied with the pleasure this brought him, he smiled. He'd never reveled in cruelty, even at war he'd made sure his actions had been fair. As fair as war would allow him. But now he needed the cruelty, it was the only thing that could keep the pain that wanted to sear through him from engulfing him completely.

Well, not the only thing.

Isla

She faced foes for him and lied to her own sister to aid him. Gave herself to him over and over again. Why? She'd not mentioned love and Conall was glad for it. He did not believe in love and found the declaration uncomfortable. She was more warrior than she gave herself credit for, but the thought of her being hurt on his behalf caused a sharp pain to shoot through his chest. He rubbed absently at the ache. Everything had turned upside down for him since she'd come into his life and he loathed how unbalanced it made him feel. He missed his feet being solid beneath him.

He missed feeling like himself.

How could one tiny woman cause him so much unrest? He should have trusted his trepidation at the girls' arrival, his gut had known nothing good would come of it. He groaned and rolled to his side. If only he truly believed that, this would all be so much easier. As it was, he knew he could not deny whatever it was he felt for Isla, and try as he might, he could not regret her. Mayhap, love did not exist, but his fondness for the girl surely did, and he could no longer ignore it.

He had to protect her from his cursed life.

The dungeons were from the original keep, dank and chilled. Conall fought the urge to flee as old memories surfaced. Alasdair had left him down there once, when he was but a wee boy. Conall could not recall what he'd done to land himself there, but the memory of cowering in a dark corner as he retched from fear could not be forgotten. Try as he might.

Stay in the present.

Hamish was chained in that very corner, eyeing Conall with great disdain. Conall almost had to admire the little man's audacity. Surely, he knew his time was close to an end? Yet, he still held his ground. He'd have made a good warrior.... If he wasn't such a giant pile of horse shit.

"I'll not say another word. I have nothing more to tell ye." Hamish spat.

Conall continued to stare at the man. Saying nothing was often more intimating than raging at a person. The silence left them unnerved, their brain automatically wanted to fill in the unfamiliar void of conversation. His icy stare only furthered their discomfort. They'd wonder what was coming next? Would he scream? Would he attack? Was he just to stand there all day? His inaction would begin a panic deep within them that would lead to their breaking.

He merely had to wait him out.

"Say something, ye bastard!"

The corner of Conall's mouth curved in a sardonic smile but still he did not move or speak. Like a wolf sizing up its prey he kept the man under his scrutiny. Hamish's eyes began to dart around, his chains trembled at his sides. He was going to fold. So, perhaps not that great of a warrior after all. What a shame. Conall had hoped to play with his food a bit longer.

"If you're going to cut into him, could you save me that jeweled belt of his, lad?", Gills came to Conall's side, "They'd look mighty fine on my bonnie Sarah."

Conall finally broke his gaze from Hamish to look at his friend, "Your Sarah?"

Gills shrugged, "It happens to us all, no?"

Choosing to ignore the knowing look in Gills eyes, Conall shrugged, "Aye, I'll save ye the jewels."

Gills smiled his customary wide grin, slapped Conall on the back and bowed to Hamish, "Then I'll be letting ye back to your work," He pointed at Conall, "Don't be letting him scream too loudly, ye be scaring the women folk."

Once Gills had taken his leave, and Connall had managed to stifle a chuckle, he crouched down in front of Hamish, "I don't believe you much more to say, Hamish, you said quite a bit above stairs, did ye not?"

Hamish audibly swallowed, "Ill not beg for mercy, milord. I swore myself to your uncle, he took good care of me, what I've done, I've done with honor."

"Honor?", Conall rubbed his chin, "Men like you would call this honorable. It's not, my friend. It's cowardly. If my father wanted me dead, he should have killed me himself."

"Uncle." Hamish's voice hardened.

Conall backhanded the man and watched as he fell back into the stone wall, blood making its way down his cheek, "I don't care what title you choose to attach to him, to me, to my mother. I stopped caring about relations and titles a long time ago, Hamish. Alasdair made sure of that, and in a way I thank him. I've been more free these last years than he ever was. Ever will be. You may have loved the man, but we both know he's rotting in Hell."

Hamish made to deny the claim but bringing his hand to his bleeding cheek, thought better of it, "It's not the Cameron's..... Your father cared for this clan, in his way.", he winced, "Though, I'd weary of some of the soldiers, they're close with the Mackenzies, I don't ken where their loyalties will fall once everything starts."

"So open, suddenly, Hamish. Did I break ye already?"