![Susan King - [Celtic Nights 03]](https://fs.ageofbook.com/606913/thumbs/152x264/susan-king-celtic-nights-03.jpg)
Iain Og," her cousin Parian said. Margaret's eldest brother, like his younger brothers, was brown-haired and lean; with his siblings, he shared finely made features that suited their blond sister better than five young men. "Lachlann was trustworthy before. Why would he change?"
"Eva says he seems different now," Simon reminded them.
"We must be careful not to trust him too quickly."
"All of us are changed," Micheil, another of Margaret's brothers, said. He had grown into a tall and quiet-spoken young man. "Some of us went to France, like Lachlann and Parian and William, in good faith to fight a war that was not ours. The rest of us stayed here—Simon and Andra, Fergus and I, and the others—to be betrayed by our own king. Our lands are lost, our old chief gone and our young chief in prison, our good name taken from us. How could any of us be the same?"
Eva nodded in sympathy. With their lives torn asunder, her kinsmen had sent their families to safety, then banded together, hiding in the hills to fight those who had taken over their lands by king's grant. They would not give up those lands easily, nor would they accept the wrongful forfeiture of them.
"The MacKerron smith is not one of the MacArthur dispossessed," Iain Og pointed out. "He has no allegiance to us. He is a king's man from Perth—even if he grew up a lad in Balnagovan."
"His family have been smiths near Loch Fhionn for generations," Fergus said. "We were all children together."
"And we were with him in France," Parian said, nodding to William, his twin; they were similar though not identical. "I will trust him, no matter his message." William nodded.
"And I," Andra echoed. The youngest of the renegade MacArthurs at nearly sixteen, with light brown hair and a slender build, he had turned a youthful taste for mischief into a talent for clever spying whenever the king's men rode out on patrol.
Simon ran his thumb along his whiskered chin. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight. "Eva, what do you think? Is Lachlann for us or against us?"
"Ask him yourself," she said stubbornly.
"No matter what his message, or his intent, nothing can keep us from our business," Simon told the others. "We will win back our rights, and protest the wrong that was done to our people." His kinsmen nodded grim acknowledgment of their shared purpose.
"Raids in the night will not do that," Eva said.
"You seem to think Colin will solve all our troubles," Simon said.
"And you believe attacks will gain back our rights and save Donal," she returned bitterly. The dispute was old between them.
"Green Colin will not do it," Simon snapped. "You set great store by his promises, yet we see no result."
"Donal is still alive," she pointed out. She looked away, sighing. She and Simon argued so often lately that she felt as if she faced a man of stone with a stranger's face rather than the easygoing brother she once had known.
"Perhaps Colin truly loves the girl and means well," Micheil suggested. "Who could resist our Eva?" He winked at his cousin.
"Bah," Simon growled. "Colin loves her island. He kept her dowry lands, too, after the forfeiture, and put his kin there in place of the dispossessed MacArthurs."
"A shame those lands have been so short of cattle and sheep lately," Fergus drawled. "Raiders are a persistent problem, I hear. Or is it that livestock wander in their sleep?" Andra laughed, and Fergus grinned. "We will get rich if we continue to take such fine fat cattle to the Lowland markets."
Eva frowned, well aware of their activities after dark. "I beg you to be cautious. Stealing from Colin's kin will not help our clan's cause."
"And we beg you again to reconsider the marriage," Simon answered. "There are other ways to win back our lands."
"Why do you think I bruise myself learning swordplay? I have my own rights to consider," she said. "You will not fight for Innisfarna, and I understand that. It is not part of your inheritance, but came to me through my mother, and
"Eva says he seems different now," Simon reminded them.
"We must be careful not to trust him too quickly."
"All of us are changed," Micheil, another of Margaret's brothers, said. He had grown into a tall and quiet-spoken young man. "Some of us went to France, like Lachlann and Parian and William, in good faith to fight a war that was not ours. The rest of us stayed here—Simon and Andra, Fergus and I, and the others—to be betrayed by our own king. Our lands are lost, our old chief gone and our young chief in prison, our good name taken from us. How could any of us be the same?"
Eva nodded in sympathy. With their lives torn asunder, her kinsmen had sent their families to safety, then banded together, hiding in the hills to fight those who had taken over their lands by king's grant. They would not give up those lands easily, nor would they accept the wrongful forfeiture of them.
"The MacKerron smith is not one of the MacArthur dispossessed," Iain Og pointed out. "He has no allegiance to us. He is a king's man from Perth—even if he grew up a lad in Balnagovan."
"His family have been smiths near Loch Fhionn for generations," Fergus said. "We were all children together."
"And we were with him in France," Parian said, nodding to William, his twin; they were similar though not identical. "I will trust him, no matter his message." William nodded.
"And I," Andra echoed. The youngest of the renegade MacArthurs at nearly sixteen, with light brown hair and a slender build, he had turned a youthful taste for mischief into a talent for clever spying whenever the king's men rode out on patrol.
Simon ran his thumb along his whiskered chin. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight. "Eva, what do you think? Is Lachlann for us or against us?"
"Ask him yourself," she said stubbornly.
"No matter what his message, or his intent, nothing can keep us from our business," Simon told the others. "We will win back our rights, and protest the wrong that was done to our people." His kinsmen nodded grim acknowledgment of their shared purpose.
"Raids in the night will not do that," Eva said.
"You seem to think Colin will solve all our troubles," Simon said.
"And you believe attacks will gain back our rights and save Donal," she returned bitterly. The dispute was old between them.
"Green Colin will not do it," Simon snapped. "You set great store by his promises, yet we see no result."
"Donal is still alive," she pointed out. She looked away, sighing. She and Simon argued so often lately that she felt as if she faced a man of stone with a stranger's face rather than the easygoing brother she once had known.
"Perhaps Colin truly loves the girl and means well," Micheil suggested. "Who could resist our Eva?" He winked at his cousin.
"Bah," Simon growled. "Colin loves her island. He kept her dowry lands, too, after the forfeiture, and put his kin there in place of the dispossessed MacArthurs."
"A shame those lands have been so short of cattle and sheep lately," Fergus drawled. "Raiders are a persistent problem, I hear. Or is it that livestock wander in their sleep?" Andra laughed, and Fergus grinned. "We will get rich if we continue to take such fine fat cattle to the Lowland markets."
Eva frowned, well aware of their activities after dark. "I beg you to be cautious. Stealing from Colin's kin will not help our clan's cause."
"And we beg you again to reconsider the marriage," Simon answered. "There are other ways to win back our lands."
"Why do you think I bruise myself learning swordplay? I have my own rights to consider," she said. "You will not fight for Innisfarna, and I understand that. It is not part of your inheritance, but came to me through my mother, and
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