The Highlandmen took their polished sword, their oiled muskets,out from their house and up the dark slopes.
Conn fit no guilt about keeping his own sword hidden in his bed. IT had been rusty and blunt, he reasoned . He wasn't doing anything wrong. He didn't know why he felt someone needed to have a good weapon around. Maybe it had been the look in Jamie's eye when the new had come. Maybe it was the sudden indrawn breath from his mother.
Maybe it was some sixth sense of his own.
'We come peace, as friends,' said the captain.