Ranald looked puzzled. “Ye did.”
Liam stared at him, then remembered. Someone had asked him the question quickly while he was busy with something else, and he had answered vaguely. However, it fitted with his plans. Soon there would be hundreds of them, and they would be invincible! They could storm castles and subdue lairds to their will. It would be glorious!
Suddenly, he snapped back to reality and brought his attention back to Mackay. “Wait here,” he ordered, then he stepped outside and spoke to the men who were guarding the entrance, having kept all the guards at bay.
“Should we let the laird go?” Liam asked them. “Or kill him right now?”
The men talked amongst themselves and then gave him an answer. “Let them go,” Robbie McCann said in his gruff voice. “They could be useful to us…for a wee while.”
Liam nodded, then went back to where Laird Mackay and his family were sitting huddled together on the couch by the fire, looking terrified. He studied the laird thoughtfully. “If ye show me every valuable item in yer possession, I will spare yer family,” he declared.
“I swear tae ye that I will do everything tae accommodate yer wishes,” Laird Mackay said desperately. “Just please let them go.”
Liam nodded and smiled triumphantly. “We have a deal,” he declared.
* * *
Ten years earlier…
Liam had always been a target for the bigger boys, ever since he had been taken from his home at the age of six and was thrust into a crowd of boys who were ten years old and upward. At first, he had tried to keep quiet and cling to the shadows, but bullies always sniffed out the smallest and weakest target, and he was perfectly suited to that role.
One day, the bigger boys were kicking a ball around the flat circle of ground around their latest campfire when he spotted Liam sitting under a tree.
“Hey, ye, wee nyaff!” he called out as he ran over to Liam and dragged him to his feet, grinning gleefully. “Lads! We’ve got somebody here that wants tae join in!”
Liam was twelve years old, short and skinny, with a smooth, hairless face and a high voice that was yet to deepen into manhood. He was permanently terrified, and although he was angry too, he had no way to vent either feeling since tears would have made him an even bigger target than he already was.
The bigger boy was fifteen and muscular, with a deep voice and cheeks that were bristly and shadowed with his first growth of beard.
Liam was no match for him, and he did not resist as he was dragged into the middle of the group of bigger boys, who immediately discarded their ball. They began to kick him as a replacement for the abandoned item, laughing with sadistic delight.
Liam tried to run from them, but there were seven in the group and only one of him, and he was helpless as he was pushed from one to the other as they laughed, mocking the terror they could see on his face. Then one of the biggest boys hooked a leg around his ankle, and he fell to the ground with a thud, knocking the air out of his lungs and hurting his hands, which he had used to brace himself. Instinctively he curled into a ball, but the torture did not stop.
He was weeping, frightened, and in an agony of pain when he heard a voice that he recognized straightaway.
“What in God’s name are ye doin’?” it roared. “Leave him alone. There is yer ball over there. Go an’ kick that or better still, will one o’ ye come an’ kick me? Away, ye crowd o’ big eejits, an’ pick on somebody yer own size!”
Liam heard a few mutters, then there was silence, and a few seconds later, he felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. Instinctively, he curled into a tighter ball, then he opened one eye and saw the owner of the voice—Finn Crawford, the biggest and strongest of all the lads in the camp.
“They have gone,” Finn said gently. “Stand up now, Liam.” He helped Liam to his feet.
“Thank ye, Finn,” he whispered. “Ye did no’ have tae do that.”
“Aye, I did,” Finn replied. “They were goin’ tae hurt ye. Sure ye are all right?” He looked concerned.
Liam nodded, gazing at his savior. Finn was only fifteen, but already he was over six feet tall and more powerfully built than any other youth in the camp. Liam had spoken to him before, but only casually, although he had always admired the other young man’s powerful physique.
“Ye are goin’ tae be all right from now on, Liam Robertson,” Finn announced. “Because ye are under my protection now. Ye are my brother…if ye want tae be. How does Liam Crawford sound tae ye?”
“It sounds fine!” Liam replied happily. Then he frowned. “But ye know they will make jokes about us bein’ married?”
Finn shrugged. “Let them try,” he said casually. “I am no’ scared o’ any o’ them.”
15
As soon as they arrived at a spot that Greta thought was suitable to make camp, she dismounted and spread a blanket on the ground for him, then she helped him down from his horse. He staggered over to the blanket, groaning, with his hand tightly pressed to his side and his face screwed up in pain.
“Thank ye,” he whispered, before collapsing on the ground with a thud.