Wings of Morning Read Online Free PDF

one to mince words before, so what’s holding ye back now?”
    He inhaled a deep breath. “Now that Roddy’s been prayed over and buried, we need to talk about what to do about the man who murdered him.”
    Regan went still. Och, holy saints and martyrs! What would going after Iain Campbell accomplish now at any rate? Roddy was dead, and no amount of talk of revenge or reliving that fateful night would bring him back.
    But mayhap Walter needed to speak of this. And mayhap, in the speaking, it would ease a bit of his pain.
    He had always kept his feelings close, not sharing much of his heart with anyone. Indeed, she was perhaps the only person who had ever been privy to any of Walter’s thoughts, and even that was a rare happening. But she saw the look that had haunted his eyes since Roddy had first been brought home, already cold and lifeless. It was there still, gnawing at him like some relentless beast that refused to release its fallen prey. In his own way, Walter had likely loved his older brother far more deeply than Regan—and perhaps even Roddy—had ever realized.
    “Aye?” she prodded when he chose not to continue with his unsettling pronouncement. “And what of it? Roddy’s dead. What more is there to say?”
    “It’s one thing to die fighting yer enemy face-to-face. There’s some honor on both sides in that.” Walter paused and glanced away yet again. “But when yer enemy chooses to spare yer life and sends ye on yer way, only to then backshoot . . .”
    For a long moment, Regan just stared at him. She knew now where Walter was going with this. Roddy’s murder was grounds for a feud. No Scotsman worthy of calling himself a Highlander would deny there wasn’t just cause to call out the clan. But to go up against the mighty Campbells . . .
    “Aye, ye’re right.” Regan expelled a long, slow breath. “At the verra least, Iain Campbell must be brought to justice.”
    Walter gave a harsh, high-pitched laugh. “And who’d dare bring the Campbell clan’s tanist to justice? He’s cousin and dear friend to the clan chief, and once even saved his life.” He shook his head with a savage vehemence. “Nay, we’d get no support from anyone in accusing one of the Campbell nobility. The queen dotes on those two, she does.”
    Regan knew Walter spoke true. As if Mary’s favor in itself didn’t squelch any hope of legal justice, Niall and Iain Campbell were both powerful lairds in their own right, owned highly fortified castles, and could commandeer hundreds of men with but a few days’ notice. And if the MacLarens declared a feud, clan loyalty would then require the entire Campbell clan join with their two clansmen.
    “Aye, we’ve no hope of bringing Iain Campbell to legal justice,” she finally replied. “Yet, in all honor, we’re bound to do something to avenge Roddy’s murder. And murder it is, now that we know how he truly died.”
    A grim smile tugged at the corners of Walter’s thin lips. “There are many forms of justice, some legal and some not. But the final result’s the same.”
    As if a chill breeze had found its way into the room, Regan shivered. “What are ye suggesting?”
    He chose that moment to walk over to stand before her. Presentiment brushed Regan before skittering away to cower in some dark corner of the room. She looked up and met his suddenly piercing gaze.
    “Iain Campbell must suffer the same fate as Roddy. It’s only fair, wouldn’t ye say?”
    “Aye,” she replied warily. “But because he’s a cold-blooded murderer doesn’t mean we have to become one in the doing.”
    “Och, lass, lass!” With an exasperated sound, he took a seat beside her on the settle. “It’s not murder. It’s justice! The only difference is, instead of taking him to the High Court in Edinburgh for trial and hanging, we’ll instead be his judge and executioner. And only because there’s no other way to bring him to justice.”
    She eyed him with misgiving, even as a part of her