The Mackintosh men were waiting for them, just as Rodrick and Ian had planned. They had successfully gotten the babe back from a very upset and rather insane Anthara MacDonald. Later, they would recount the story to Rodrick, of how the woman had screamed like a banshee, had fought tooth and nail, clawing at their faces as they took the babe from her arms. They left her and her guard alongside the road to Portree.

But for now, they oohed and ahed over the tiny babe, doing their best to keep her from crying. The poor thing was undoubtedly hungry, but all they had to offer her was dried beef. Somehow, they didn’t think her mother would appreciate them giving the toothless babe dried beef or bits of apples.

They were mightily glad to see Ian, Rodrick, Muriel and the others, bounding down the road. Rodrick had his arms wrapped around his wife. Muriel could not wait for the horse to stop before she was scurrying off its back.

“Cora!” she exclaimed as she raced forward and grabbed her from the arms of William Mackintosh.

Between kisses for her babe, she thanked the men repeatedly. Rodrick stood behind her now, just as glad to see his daughter as her mother was.

“Thank ye,” he told the men surrounding them. “I - we - will never be able to repay ye.”

“Bah!” Callum said with a shake of his head. “Ye would have done the same for any one of us.”

Cora began to cry rather loudly. It had been hours since last she’d eaten.

Rodrick helped Muriel to a quiet spot and set her down on a felled log. “Ye rest here and feed our daughter, aye?” he said before kissing first the top of Muriel’s head, then Cora’s. He started to walk away when Muriel stopped him.

“Where are ye goin’?” she asked, sounding afraid.

“Ye feed our babe. I have one more thing to do.”

“Nay!” she cried out over the waling cries of her babe. “Ye can no’ mean to leave me now!”

Kneeling before her he said, “Wheesht, Muriel. I promise, I will no’ be gone long. Ian will be with ye, as well as the rest of the men. I shall meet ye at the ferry in less than an hour.”

Tears pooled and fell. “Please, Rodrick, do no’ leave me.”

He smiled warmly and placed a gentle palm on her cheek. “I swear to ye, where I be goin’ is no’ dangerous.”

He left her then, sitting on a wide log, looking sadder than he’d ever seen her. But there was something important he needed to do.

* * *

Standing near their horse, Rodrick spoke to Ian. “I will take Callum with me,” he said. “Please, see me wife safely to the ferry. And ye leave, with or without me.”

“And where might ye be goin’?” Ian asked as he rubbed his chin with his hand.

“I have to deliver Fergus’s head.”

Ian did not ask another question. He watched as Rodrick strode to Ian’s horse. Hanging there, in a sack, was Fergus’s head. Rodrick untied it from Ian’s mount before tying it to the saddle of his own. “No matter what happens, ye see me wife and daughter safely home.”

Ian let out a heavy breath. “Aye, ye have me word. But promise me two things.”

Rodrick gave him a nod. “What might that be?”

“That ye do no’ start any wars and that ye come back to yer wife and child.”

Rodrick nodded his head again but said not a word as he and Callum rode away.

* * *

Rodrick and Callum let themselves into Anthara MacDonald’s home. No one had answered their repeated knocks at the door. They could hear a woman crying and the sound of things being thrown against the walls within.

They found her in a small room just off the hallway. Anthara had only that moment thrown a candlestick at the wall next to the hearth when they stepped inside. There were bits of broken furniture and pottery scattered about the room. She’d picked up a small table when she turned and saw them standing in the doorway.

Fury filled her eyes. “Go away!” she screamed at them.

Most women would have made an inquiry as to their identities.

“I be Rodrick MacElroy, husband to Muriel MacElroy,” he said, ignoring her demand.

Recognition was quick to set in. Gritting her teeth together, she screamed, “She took my babe!” In the next instant, she was hurling the small table at them. Callum stepped forward and grabbed it before it could strike either one of them. Carefully, he placed the table on the floor near his feet.

“Cora be no’ yer babe,” Rodrick told her pointedly.

“Yes she is! She be mine and Fergus’s! That whore ye call yer wife is no’ fit to raise a dog!” Her eyes were filled with unsuppressed rage and rimmed in red from crying. “When Fergus gets here, ye will see! He will get her back for me! And he will kill all of ye!”

Rodrick took a tentative step forward, the bag with Fergus’s head dangling from one hand. “Fergus is no’ comin’ back.”

“Ye lie!” she screamed. “He is on his way here now. But first, he is goin’ to kill yer whore of a wife. Ye will see! Then he and I will raise Burunild together.”

Rodrick shook his head in disgust. The woman was just as mad as Fergus. Anthara was just as culpable as her husband in what had happened to Muriel. Anthara had refused to listen to Muriel’s plea for help. Instead of helping her, she sided with Fergus. She’d even gone so far as to help in some of the beatings Muriel had received. Nay, he would not feel an ounce of remorse or pity for this woman.

“Fergus is no’ comin’ back,” he repeated. “No’ today, no’ tomorrow, no’ ever.”

He could see she was not quite ready yet to believe him. Cautiously, she took a step back, her eyes darting around the room for something else to throw at them. “Ye lie,” she said. This time, she did not scream. Rodrick could see her resolve was beginning to fade.

Rodrick slowly lifted the sack containing Fergus’s head. “Nay, I do no’ lie to ye,” he replied. He tossed the sack onto a chair, where it landed with a hard thud. “Ye can have that,” he said, “or give it to his father. Either way, I do no’ care.” He turned to leave but stopped himself. “Ye can tell the bloody bastard who fathered yer husband that if I ever I see him or his men or kin anywhere near me wife or daughter, I shall do the same to them.” He nodded toward the sack once before leaving.

As he and Callum crossed over the threshold and back into the late afternoon air, they heard the plaintive wail of the newly widowed Anthara MacDonald. Neither man looked back.