“Viola is a smart lass. She will have fled as soon as she delivered the note to ye.” What about the poison? Had that been part of Randolph’s plan? No, the note was penned in Kenneth’s slanted script.

A crash funneled up from below. Randolph looked back, his eyes sliding over her head down the stairwell. “Little man is putting up a fight,” he murmured. “Get that pastor up here,” he yelled.

“Aye,” came a voice. “Your sister has arrived.”

Randolph smiled back at Ella. “See, she is a bright lass and had a plan to escape.”

“She left all the family that she made at Girnigoe? Without a backward glance?”

“She thirsts for revenge, too, for not being welcomed by our mother’s Sutherland clan.”

“But the Sinclairs have been only good to her,” Ella said.

Randolph yanked her through the outer door. “Stop talking.”

Ella and Jamie followed Randolph onto the stone walkway that rose above the walls of Varrich, Iain bringing up the rear.

Ella’s breath caught at the display of force. Sinclairs were mounted and stretched across the moor and crest before the castle. She had fought with them before but had never seen them spread out before her. Pale green and black horses numbered over two hundred.

“I am here,” the pastor said, coming up, his breathing labored. Glancing back over his shoulder, he slid a shaking hand across his face and wiped it on his dark robes. Had the guards frightened him below?

“Should we not wait for your sister to come up?” Ella asked. “Milord, you should go check on her.”

The pastor shook his head and swallowed hard. “She…” His brows rose as if trying to act casually, and his head wobbled slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at the door. “She said she must refresh herself and would rejoice in the union after it is…um…complete.”

Randolph narrowed his eyes as if the pastor was a simpleton, but then smiled at Ella. “Come, my love.” Randolph pinched her elbow hard enough it would bruise and pulled her toward the wall that reached to his middle. He clutched her hand and raised it overhead. “Sinclairs,” he called, his voice carrying down. “Today we wed, joining Sutherland and Mackay clans.”

Ella’s gaze fastened onto Gideon and Bàs seated on their mighty warhorses in front. Bàs wore his skull mask and horned helmet and carried his scythe. Gideon frowned up, his gaze searching her out.

From the side of the castle, a bird soared up and over the armies. It was Cain’s hawk, its yellow beak clutching a scrap of material. Why wasn’t it with him at Dunrobin?