“Aye, before I left I saw that they both had knives,” Skye said.
“I had better go to the sheriff to report it,” Duff said. “Though I’m sure that Roderick has already made the report.”
“The sheriff is not going to take too kindly to you killin’ one of his own sons,” Ian said.
“It was self-defense,” Duff said. “The sheriff will have to know that.”
“Duff, those boys have been naught but trouble their whole lives, and the sheriff well knows that, but has he ever lifted a hand to stop them?” Ian shook his head. “No, he has not,” Ian said, answering his own question. “Why think you now that the sheriff will believe you?”
“I am an innocent man, Ian,” Duff said. “I’ll not be running like a common criminal when I know I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll be going to see the sheriff now.”
“I will come with you to tell the truth,” Skye said.
“There’s no need for you to come,” Duff asked.
“I’ll not see my husband-to-be jailed for something he dinnae do.”
“You stay here.”
“Duff MacCallister, you are not yet my husband, so you’ve no right to tell me I can’t come with you.”
Ian laughed. “Best ye get used to it, lad. She is a girl with her own mind.”
“All right, I’ll not be fighting with you on the very night before we are to be wed,” Duff said.
“’Tis a smart husband you will be,” Skye said, and the others laughed.
Duff and Skye were halfway to the office of the sheriff when they saw the sheriff and three of his deputies coming toward them. Rab Malcolm, who was Somerled’s chief deputy, was one of the men with him.
“Sheriff,” Duff called. “I was coming to see you.”
“Shoot him!” Sheriff Somerled shouted.
“No, Sheriff!” Skye shouted, jumping between Duff and the sheriff.
The sheriff and all three deputies opened fire. The flame patterns of their pistols lit up the night, and the sound of gunfire roared like thunder.
“Oh!” Skye said, and as she spun around toward Duff, he saw a growing spread of crimson on her chest. She fell to the road, and even as the sheriff and his deputies continued to shoot, he managed to pull her off the road and through the shrubbery.
“Skye!” Duff shouted, his voice racked with pain and horror at what he was seeing. “Skye!”
Skye lifted her hand to his face and put her fingers against his jaw. She smiled. “’Twould have been such a lovely wedding,” she said. She drew another gasping breath, then her arm fell and her head turned to one side. Her eyes, though still open, were already clouded with death.
“No!” Duff shouted. “No!”
“He’s down there!” the sheriff called.
Duff moved into the shrubbery and waited. A moment later, one of the sheriff’s deputies came through the hedgerow. Duff stepped out of the shrubbery and, with his fist, landed a haymaker on the deputy’s jaw. As the deputy went down, Duff took his gun and, in a rage, shot him from point-blank range.
“Gillis! Gillis, did you get him?”
Duff stepped back through the hedgerow and out onto the road. He was holding Gillis’s gun.
“No, Somerled. I got Gillis,” Duff shouted.
“There he is!” the sheriff shouted. “Shoot him, Rab, Nevin, shoot him!”
The three shot at Duff, and Duff returned fire. Nevin went down, and when he did, the sheriff and Malcolm suddenly realized that, in seconds, their number had been decreased by half. The two men turned and ran.
For a moment Duff considered running after them, but he gave that up. Instead, he threw the gun away, then scooped Skye into his arms to take her back to her father.
Ian was just closing up his pub when Duff pushed in through the front door of the White Horse. He was carrying Skye in his arms.
“Skye!” Ian shouted. “What happened? My God! What happened?”
“It was the sheriff and his deputies,” Duff said. Duff laid Skye on the bar and Ian fell across her, sobbing loudly.
“I killed Gillis and Nevin,” Duff said. “Sheriff Somerled and Deputy Malcolm ran away. I didn’t go after them because I wanted to bring Skye home.”
“I thank you for that, lad,” Ian said.
“I’m going after them now.”
“No, don’t. You’d best be getting away.”
“Where would I go? No matter where I go in Scotland, I’ll be a wanted man,” Duff said. “So I may as well get my revenge.”
“No,” Ian said. “I’ve lost Skye. I’ll not be wantin’ to lose you now, for ’tis my own son you are for all that my Skye didn’t live until tomorrow when you would have wed. Go. Please.”
“All right. I’ll just stop by my place and gather a few things.”
“There’s no time for that,” Ian said. Opening his cash box, he took out ten ten-pound notes and thrust them in Duff’s hand. “Go.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“’Tis little enough,” Ian said. “Oh, and I’ve something else for you.”
“You’ve given me enough.”
“This be yours, already,” Ian said. “’Tis something ye left here so as to be wearin’ at your wedding.”
Ian reached under the bar, opened a metal box, then handed an object to Duff. It was the Victoria Cross, showing a crowned lion above the crown of England, and bearing the inscription, “For Valor.”
“Keep this with you, lad, wherever you go. And remember always God and the Queen.”
“Thank you, Ian,” Duff said. He put the Victoria Cross in his pocket, then stepped down to look at Skye’s body. He stayed there for a long moment. Then he looked back at Ian. “Give me a piece of paper and a pen,” he said.
Ian got a sheet of paper and a pen and handed the items to Duff. Duff began to write.
In exchange for one hundred pounds paid in full, I, Duff Tavish MacCallister, with this instrument, do transfer ownership to Ian McGregor the three hundred acres of land known as Three Crowns, to include all buildings, improvements, appurtenances, livestock, and any and all things of value.
Duff Tavish MacCallister.
“I’m beholdin’ to you, Ian,” he said, handing the document to Ian.
“Here, lad, you don’t want to do that,” Ian said, pushing the paper back.
“Ian, you and I both know I will never return to Scotland. That means my land will be confiscated by the county. Don’t you know I would rather you have it?”
Ian thought for a moment, then, nodding, he took the paper. “Aye, lad, I see your point,” he said. “But know this. If ever you should return, Three Crowns is all yours.”
Duff shook Ian’s hand, then he went over to Skye’s body. Leaning over, he kissed her on her lips. Then straightening up, he wiped a tear away.
“She will always be in my heart, Ian.”
“I know, lad, I know. Now, please, be gone with you before the sheriff comes back.”
Duff nodded and started toward the front door.
“No, lad, they may be out there watching. The back door.”
With a final wave, Duff opened the back door, then slipped out into the night.
Chapter Five
Firth of Clyde
There were three ships on the Firth of Clyde. Two were steamships that lay anchored in the harbor. But one was tied up against the docks, and it was the Hiawatha, a three-masted, square-rigged, sailing ship.
There was a sailor standing watch on the dock-side of the ship, which meant Duff was going to have to get onboard without the man on watch seeing him. As he considered how best to accomplish this, he saw a skiff tied up about one hundred yards down the dock.
Looking around to make certain he wasn’t being observed, Duff untied the skiff, then rowed it out a short way before turning back to approach the Hiawatha from the opposite side. There he climbed up the side of the vessel, over the railing, then into the shadows of the ship. Finding a dark, out-of-the-way place on deck, he settled down to wait and see what would happen next.