Midnight Honor

their own again.”
    “Angus wants an independent Scotland as much as the next man,” she insisted calmly.
    “Then why is he no' in Derby wi' his prince? Why is he wearin' a captain's uniform f'ae a company o' the king's Black Watch, an' why is he in Inverness this very night sup-pin' at the bluidy table of Duncan bluidy Forbes?”
    “He is only trying to keep the peace—”
    “Peace?” Fearchar straightened. “Aye, I've nae doubt they all want a piece o' the spoils! Him an' MacLeod an' Argyle. Och! Argyle wants a piece o' Lochaber so badly there's no need f'ae Forbes tae pay him wi' Judas gold.”
    Gillies MacBean arched an eyebrow and ventured gingerly into the fray. “Argyle never needed a bribe tae fight the Camerons, especially after he heard the
Camshroinaich Dubh
was back in Lochaber.”
    “Ewen Cameron?” Fearchar's eyes rounded out of their creases. “He's risen up out o' his grave?”
    “No' the auld Dark Cameron,” Eneas said gently. “The young one. Lochiel's brither, Alexander.”
    “Oh. Och, aye. I ken'd that,” Fearchar grumbled, and waved his hand to dismiss his own lapse of memory. “I ken'd wee Alasdair were who ye meant all the while.”
    With almost the next breath, his shoulders slumped forward and his head bowed over the support of his walking stick. Like a bladder losing air he seemed to collapse in on himself until he was just a rounded bundle of rags and wispy gray hair.
    “Granda'!” Anne started to reach out, but Robbie waylaid her hand.
    “He does that now an' then. Just drops off, has a wee nap, then sits up like as nothin' has happened. He'll be right as rain in a few minutes, mark my words.”
    “I dinna have to mark your words, Robbie. I can mark how thin and tired he is. He is far too old to be hiding in the hills and living out of caves!”
    Jamie came to his brother's defense. “Aye, well, ye can be the one tae tell him so, then, cousin. I'm certain he'll listentae you, where he just clouts the rest o' us wi' his stick an' ignores aught we say. He were determined tae come here tonight an' here he came, a pox on the snow, a pox on the wind, a pox on the thousand militia swarmin' around Inverness.”
    “Two,” Annie said softly, stroking a fold of her grandfather's tartan. “It will be two thousand by week's end. The MacLeod and The MacKenzie of Seaforth have pledged to send more men to reinforce Loudoun's defenses around Fort George.”
    “How do ye know this?” MacGillivray asked sharply.
    “I hear things. I see things.” She shrugged and looked over. “Sometimes Forbes will send a message to Angus and … and sometimes he might be careless and leave his desk unlocked.”
    “I didna think Angus Moy was a careless man.”
    “He is not,” she admitted. “It sometimes requires a hairpin to make it seem so.”
    Jamie and Robbie grinned. Eneas only frowned. “If he catches ye tamperin' wi' his locks, he'll no' look on it too kindly, lass.”
    “He would hardly be overjoyed to know I was here, either. He is sick to death of all this, Eneas. He is sick to death at the thought of more bloodshed, of Highlanders killing Highlanders.”
    “Aye. That's why he's raised a regiment of MacKintoshes to fight f'ae Hanover. That's why he spends a treat o' time at Culloden House drinking claret wi' Duncan Forbes.”
    “Moy Hall is less than ten miles from Culloden House! How could he possibly avoid contact with Duncan Forbes?”
    “I do,” MacGillivray said easily. “An' Dunmaglass is closer.”
    “Own up to it, Annie,” Eneas said. “He's been away too long an' he's simply no' willin' tae risk his lands an' fortune on anither war. It's in his bluid anyway tae lay back an' see which way the wind blows. His grandfather was one o' the first lairds tae disarm the clans after The Fifteen. His father was one o' the first tae swear the oath of allegiance tae the Hanover king so his lands an' titles wouldna be forfeit. There were many a clansman who cursed him f'ae that; many whohave long memories an' will never fight under the Hanover flag regardless if yer husband drives them barefoot out intae the snow an' burns the roof down o'er their heads.”
    “He would not do that,” Anne countered angrily.
    “Nor would a true Scot question his rightful king,” Robbie said heatedly. “When The Stuart called f'ae his sword, he would give it. Simple as that.”
    “Are you saying Angus is not a true Scot?”
    “Wheesht, Annie. Calm yerself.” Eneas glared ominously at