The Campbell Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

hid his reactions well, but the younger of the two men at his side was not. Jamie was watching them closely, so he noticed a flash of alarm that was quickly covered up. Was it simply because a Campbell had entered their keep, or were they hiding something? He would find out soon enough.
    The Lamont strode toward him. For a man who must be past fifty years, he wore his age well and moved with the strength and agility of a formidable warrior.
    “Campbell,” he said. “I would have been here to greet you myself had I known you were coming.”
    Jamie smiled. They both knew the lapse had been intentional. Alerting the Lamonts of his arrival would hardly have served his purpose. If Lamont was hiding the MacGregor and his men, as Jamie believed, he wouldn’t give him a chance to spirit them away. With Jamie and his men watching, they would be forced to stay put.
    The Lamont looked behind him, and his brows drew together. “You’ve come alone?”
    In a time when a man’s power was equated to the number of
luchd-taighe
guardsmen who surrounded him, it was unusual to travel without a retinue—not to mention dangerous. But Jamie didn’t need an army of men to protect him. He preferred to work alone or, in this case, with only a few handpicked men. “My men will arrive later.” After they’d finished scouting and establishing a perimeter. Jamie gestured toward the two men who stood protectively beside their chief. “Your sons, I presume?”
    The Lamont nodded. “My
tanaiste,
Malcolm, and my second son, Niall.” The elder resembled his father, with fair hair and green eyes, but the second—Niall—made
    Jamie even more confident that the lass in the tree had been Caitrina Lamont. In coloring they might have been twins, though Niall was a few years older. “Come,” the Lamont added. “Join us in the hall for a drink. The feasting will not begin for a few hours yet.”
    Jamie agreed and followed the men up the wooden forestairs into the keep. As with most tower houses, the entry was on the first floor, above the vaulted ground level. In an attack, the wooden stairs could be easily removed or, if necessary, burned.
    It was considerably cooler and darker inside. The thick stone walls were an effective barrier to both man and sun. They passed through the small entry into the great hall. The castle was well tended and comfortably furnished: Colorful woven rugs adorned the floors, paintings and tapestries lined the walls, and several silver candelabra were spread around the room. The Lamont was not a wealthy man, but neither was he a poor one. Still, everything had a well-worn appearance—the years of feuding with the Campbells had taken their toll.
    They sat at the high table, and the Lamont instructed a serving woman to bring them some refreshment, which arrived promptly in carved silver goblets engraved with the crest and motto of Lamont—
Ne Parcas Nec Spernas,
Neither Spare Nor Dispose. When she’d gone, the Lamont turned to him and without preamble said, “Why are you here? What does the Earl of Argyll want with me?”
    Jamie took a long drink of ale, watching the other man over the rim of his goblet. Directness was a trait he admired. He put the drink on the table and deliberately took his time in answering. But all three men sat perfectly still, betraying nothing.
    “You are hosting the games, are you not?”
    “You can’t mean to enter the competition?” Niall blurted out, unable to hide his astonishment.
    Jamie gave him a hard look, guessing the reason for hisreaction. The Campbells were an old and proud Highland clan, yet because of their connection with the king, too many saw them as akin to Lowlanders. “I
am
a Highlander,” he said, a warning edged in his voice.
    Niall looked as though he wanted to argue the point, but he wisely held his tongue.
    The chief moved to defuse the brewing tension. “I wouldn’t think Argyll would find the gathering worthy of the attentions of his most trusted hench”—he