Somewhere My Lass by Beth Trissel Read Free Book Online Page B

blasted economy. Not that I give a damn about that right now.”
    Fergus squinted at him. “Or much else, I’d say, except Mora.”
    “Everything changed with her coming,” Neil admitted.
    “And through the door to nowhere, no less.”
    As if Neil needed reminding of the sheer impossibility of her assertion. Knocking back another handful of espresso beans, he chewed while searching his brain for an answer.
    Nothing. At least, nothing that made any sense.
    “Help me out here, Fergus. Put that brilliant madness of yours to work.”
    “All right. I’ll research the MacKenzies. See what happened to your tribe way back when.”
    Neal gave him a dry look. “You can’t seriously mean to suggest she’s from 1602?”
    Fergus glanced back down at the screen. “Maybe she’s picked up on some psychic vibrations or—”
    “Come on,” Neil broke in. “Not that psychic phenomena stuff your mom goes on about? Thought you said it was weird?”
    “Yeah, well, I’m reconsidering. Mora raised the bar on weird to whole new heights. And you’re hitching a ride on the tail of her comet.”
    “All right, I get it.”
    Fingers flying, Fergus ventured into the cyber world.
    “Can’t you ever just think without your laptop?”
    “No.”
    Neil took a strengthening swallow of coffee. “Surf away, then.” He had no better ideas.
    Fergus brightened as he did when entering a trove of information, like a treasure seeker spying pirate gold. “Hey, it says here that a feud broke out between Lord MacKenzie of Kintail and the Laird MacDonnell.”
    “Who?”
    “The head dude of the Glengarry MacDonalds, another name for MacDonnell.”
    “So?” Neil challenged, suspecting this exchange wasn’t going anywhere he wanted to go.
    “So it took place in 1602, the same year Mora’s supposedly from.”
    A shiver darted down Neil’s spine. “Probably nothing. Rival clans feuded all the time.”
    “Still, it’s right much of a coincidence.” Fergus scanned the virtual page. “And the feud led to the MacDonalds being attacked by the MacKenzies.”
    “Figures. Make my clan out to be the bad guys.”
    “Wait. There’s more.”
    Neil bore with his eccentric friend knowing how intent he was when embarked on a quest.
    “A few MacDonalds were killed.”
    “What did you expect? A party?”
    Fergus gave him his I’m speaking to an idiot look. “The MacKenzies wanted the MacDonald Laird to appear before the court at Edinburgh for previous crimes against them.”
    “So they mixed the law in with their own brand of justice?”
    “Seems the usual practice.” Fergus was intent on the screen. “And then two more MacDonalds were killed.”
    “I’m surprised they kept track what with murder and mayhem being the order of the day.” Neil tossed a few more Chocó beans into his mouth and crunched.
    “It’s recorded in some sort of annals.” Absorbed in his research, Fergus continued. “Seems the Glengarry MacDonald didn’t appear in court on the arranged date but went about with his own hand to revenge the slaughter of his clansmen.”
    “What else?” Neil said dryly.
    “You’re a cold SOB, Neil.”
    “Okay, so there was a feud, one of about a zillion.”
    “At exactly the same time and with the same clans as the ones Mora’s yammering about?”
    “Coincidence,” Neil insisted.
    Fergus skimmed his eyes ahead and gulped, “Good lord.”
    “What now?”
    “When the MacDonald didn’t appear in court the MacKenzies wasted the MacDonald country.”
    “But of course. Only stands to reason,” Neil tossed back.
    “And,” Fergus bore on, like a soldier under siege. “The two sides met and a battle took place with great slaughter on both sides. The MacKenzies, assisted by their allies the Clan Matheson, also took Strome Castle from the MacDonalds.”
    Tiny pinpricks scurried over the back of Neil’s neck. “But Mora called it Strathmore.”
    “Maybe they changed the name over time, or this is wrong.”
    “ Google , wrong?”