Chapter Sixteen“An army?” Alistair looked up, “what kind of an army?”
The cateran who had brought the news collapsed in a sweating heap on the floor. There was blood on his face and a gaping wound in his thigh. “It is Donald of the Isles, my Lord. He is coming with his full power!”
“MacDonald!” Alistair looked up. “Does he come in peace or war?”
“He comes in war, Alistair.”
“So be it,” Alistair said, shaking his head. “So be it. Send out the fiery cross and muster the clans of Badenoch. I want every man; if any refuse to come, burn the house around their ears. Call out all the gallowglass; empty the castles of Ruthven and Lochindorb of their garrisons.” His orders were crisp and clear; here was a captain of warriors again, a man fighting in honest warfare rather than the murdering sava
