Author: julianawight

Chapter One

1703, The Council chamber, Castle Galbraith, Scottish Highlands
Oh, Lord, preserve us! Let it nae be true! This cannae be happenin’!

Crouched in her hiding place in an alcove behind a wall tapestry, Isla Galbraith pressed her knuckles to her lips to stifle her horrified gasp as the dreadful news currently under discussion in the Council chamber sank in.

She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but amid the alarming rumors that had been flying around Castle Galbraith for the last few weeks, and her growing fear for her brother Gregory’s life, she had felt compelled to take radical action. Accordingly, ahead of the meeting, she had stolen into the empty chamber and hidden away. But now, as the discussion progressed, she was beginning to regret it.

“This is the final chapter in this bloody war, and if we are tae survive as a clan, we cannae fail tae defeat Ballentine’s forces. The scouts say his army is camped less than a day’s ride from the castle, in Waverly Forest. He could launch his attack on us at any moment. We must get everyone inside the walls immediately and take urgent action to prepare for the upcoming battle,” Isla’s brother, the Laird of Clan Galbraith, declared decisively.

“Aye, I’ll give the orders as soon as we’re done here,” said a voice Isla recognized as belonging to Kelvin Moore. Kelvin and his cousin Domhnall Hastie were Gregory’s closest friends, in addition to being his war captains and military advisors. “From what the scouts say, Ballentine has about a hundred men with him, all mounted,” he added.

“If that’s right, then we can match those numbers.” That was Domnhall speaking. “There’s good cause tae be hopeful of defeatin’ an attack, even if it comes down tae open battle. But there’s another possibility we havetae tae consider.”

In her hidey hole, Isla waited, holding her breath to hear what that was.

“He could very well have concealed a bigger force elsewhere close by,” Domnhall explained.

A bigger force hidden somewhere, ready tae overwhelm us?

The very idea turned Isla’s blood to ice.

“Aye, that’s what I’d dae if I could,” Gregory said. “But how likely is it that he has more men? He’s already lost many fighters in this war, just like the rest of us. His resources are dwindlin’. ’Tis obvious that’s the reason he’s decided tae stake everythin’ on an all-out attack and put an end tae it once and fer all.”

“Likely so, but ’tis a desperate gamble. He could lose everythin’,” Kelvin observed.

“Maybe we should use the element of surprise and attack the camp first,” Domnhall suggested.

“That’s one possibility, aye, but I think we need more reliable information about his numbers before we dae that,” Gregory countered.

“Well, as it is, he has us more or less pinned down. How long can we last if he decides his best option is tae starve us out?” That was Domnhall again.

“Pardon me, m’laird, but it sounds as though we’re in sore need of Laird Allen tae send us reinforcements as soon as possible,” Isla heard one of the other councilmen say nervously, voicing her very own thought.

“Aye, and I’ve already sent a messenger tae inform him of what’s happenin’. I’ve nay doubt we can expect help from him very soon. But until then, whatever happens, we must handle it ourselves,” Gregory replied, his voice deep and unwavering.

Isla prayed silently that Laird Calumn Allen, the man on whose side they were fighting on in the war—the war he had started by conquering part of Ballentine’s territory—would indeed send an army to help them defeat the enemy at their gates.

“Would it nae be wiser tae come tae some agreement with Ballentine, m’laird? It would save many lives,” Isla heard the clan secretary, the elderly Malcolm Ogilvy, suggest.

Aye, quite right, Malcolm, Isla thought to herself, heartily agreeing with the old advisor’s sentiment.

“Ye mean we should surrender?” Gregory replied, his tone derisive. “I think ye’re goin’ barmy in yer old age, Malcolm. Ye should ken better. We Galbraiths would rather die before we dae that.”

The small hope that had flickered to life in Isla’s breast died at his words.

“Maybe I am goin’ soft in the head,” Malcom conceded, quickly adding, “but this is nae our war, ’tis Laird Allan’s. And yet here we are, with Ballentine heading tae our walls, and any of us here, along with our families, likely tae lose our lives in an attack or starve in a siege and then be killed.”

“We chose tae ally with Laird Allan in this fight,” Gregory responded in a tone that brooked no argument. “There was always a chance it would come tae this. We cannae go back on our word now. What would that say about us? I’d rather perish than have folks say we Galbraiths are cowards and turncoats.”

Ach, Greogory, ’tis just that sort of stubborn pride that could get us all killed, Isla raged silently, her hand over her mouth to stop the protest that threated to burst from her lips and reveal her presence.

“Kelvin, Domnhall, here are me orders. Start gettin’ the villagers safe inside the walls immediately. I want this place locked down as tight as a drum,” Gregory instructed his right-hand men. “And make sure any scouts who come in with news of Ballentine’s movements to report straight tae me. When ye’ve done that, come and join me in me study tae plan our defensive strategy.”

“Aye, m’laird,” his war captains chorused in their deep voices.

“And Connor,” Gregory told his private secretary, “send someone tae find Lady Isla and tell her tae put the plans in motion tae prepare fer an attack. She should arrange fer anyone who cannae fight tae dae their bit tae help. Tell her I’ll speak tae her later.”

“Aye, I’ll go mesel’ and find her straight away, m’laird,” Connor replied.

“Good. Then come tae me study as well.”

“Aye, will dae.”

“All right.” Gregory announced decisively. “This meetin’ is now closed.”

With a heavy sense of dread settling in her belly, Isla forced herself to stay put while her brother and the murmuring councilmen slowly vacated the chamber. When she was finally left alone, she crept out from her hiding place and made her way to the door. Opening it a crack, she peeped out into the hallway. The Council members were quickly dispersing, and she saw Gregory disappearing through the door to his study a little further down the hall. Kelvin and Domnhall, conversing in low voices, were hurrying away to carry out their orders.

When she was satisfied the coast was clear, she slipped out into the hallway and made her way to her chamber on the first floor. She was about to mount the stone staircase when she heard someone call her name.

Connor.

She stopped and turned to him as he came up to her. Tall and rangy, he towered over her, his usually mild expression grim as he met her eyes.

“Aye? What is it, Connor?” she asked, hiding her guilt behind a smile as she struggled not to betray her ill-gotten knowledge to this trustworthy friend of long-standing.

Connor caught up to her and looked around to make sure no one among the bustling servants and other castle folk passing by were listening. Apparently satisfied they were out of range, he spoke softly. “Isla, I hate tae be the one tae havetae tell ye this, but we’ve just heard that Ballentine is mustering his forces nae far from the castle.”

Isla let her smile fade and her genuine alarm show on her face. “Ye mean he’s gonnae attack the castle?” she asked.

Connor nodded, setting his long, reddish curls bobbing. “Well, we cannae be sure, but everythin’ points tae it, aye,” he replied.

“Lord! What will become of us?” she murmured, trying to maintain an air of calm, as befitted the lady of the castle, for anyone watching them.

“Gregory’s planning our defense right now. He says he’ll speak tae ye later, but in the meantime, he wants ye tae get everybody who cannae fight busy helpin’ with preparations fer what’s tae come. D’ye ken what tae dae?”

Isla nodded, her blood running cold again. “Aye, I ken. Me grandmaither left me instructions should something like this ever happen.”

“I’ll leave it in yer hands then. I have other things tae dae before I join Gregory and the others in his study. Perhaps I’ll see ye later.”

“Aye, perhaps,” she said after him as he hurried away.

Isla went upstairs to her chamber, and when she shut the door behind her, her false composure fled. Tears flowed from her eyes as she sank down onto her bed, the feeling of icy dread growing within her. It was accompanied by a myriad of frightening thoughts and images that ran through her head in a maddening whirl.

In her mind’s eye, she went back sixteen years, to the night that was stamped indelibly on her memory. The night when assassins broke into the castle and murdered their parents in their beds. Five-year-old Isla had not known that when she was awoken by screaming and shouting in the night, but she had sensed great danger in the air.

Acting on a protective instinct, she had jumped out of bed and pulled a sleeping Gregory, aged only four, from his. Then, pressing a finger to his lips, she had dragged him across the room to hide in a wardrobe, staying there, crouched silently among the clothing, until somebody came to find them.

It was only some time afterwards, when their grandmother had told her what a brave and clever girl she was, that Isla finally understood her actions that night had saved both her own and Gregory’s lives. By rights, they should have both been dead too, for someone had sent men to kill her entire family and wipe the Galbraiths from the face of the earth. The question as to who was responsible for murdering their parents and for what reason haunted her and Gregory, though they seldom spoke of it.

The terrible loss formed an unbreakable bond between them, and it left Isla with a deep-seated fear of being left alone—specifically of losing Gregory. As they grew to adulthood, she and her brother remained close. She grew to rely on him, and when their grandmother passed away, she never forgot Gregory was all the family she had left. Even though he was a grown man and the laird of their clan, she still retained that big-sister urge to protect him from harm, for she could not bear the thought of losing him.

In the last several months, since this war had started and they had been fighting on behalf of Laird Allan against Ewan Ballentine, she had been forced to watch Gregory ride out to battle with his men on many occasions. Each time she had felt sick with terror at the thought that she might never see him alive again.

While he had been away, she had prayed almost constantly for him to stay safe and for an end to the bloody hostilities. Half her prayers had been answered. So far, Gregory had always come back in one piece. But since then the war had only intensified, and now the attack on the castle was imminent.

I cannae let him keep fightin’ this war, especially since ’tis nae truly ours. How much longer can his luck hold? I must find some way tae put an end tae the fightin’ and keep him safe. But how?

Feeling utterly powerless but knowing her duty as the laird’s sister and official lady of the castle, she pulled herself together, crossed to her dresser, and opened the bottom drawer. She paused for a moment, staring at the rolled parchment, which had lain there forgotten for so long, hesitating to touch it. For doing so would make the nightmarish threat at their gates all too real. It contained the instructions their grandmother had left for her to face just such an emergency as this.

Nevertheless, she forced herself to extract it from the drawer and unroll it. Her heart clenched painfully to see their grandmother’s flowing hand once more after so many years. With trembling hands and a lump in her throat, she began to read the long list of instructions for the lady of the castle to do her duty to prepare for an attack.

Wells within the walls must be secured. Water should also be stored in vats in the cellars of the keep in case the enemy infiltrates the outer walls.

As many candles and lamps as possible (and large quantities of lamp oil) should be speedily acquired, to be rationed and deployed only where strictly necessary.

Inventory food supplies. As much grain and produce as can be had in the time allowed must be brought inside the castle walls and properly stored within the keep cellars. Lay as much meat and fish down to salt as possible. In case of a siege, it will be necessary to ration food.

Plentiful supplies of tea and ale must also be ensured. Milk will come from the beasts brought in from the fields—lay in a good supply of fodder for them and the horses in case of siege.

As much firewood as can be gathered prior to any attack should be brought in and stored within the walls in several places where it is protected from fire. A good quantity should be regularly dispersed on the battlements for use in the braziers (to light arrows and such), and in the great hall for medical use (see below).

Ensure all healers are present within the castle prior to any attack and that there are sufficient medical supplies to treat those injured in battle. Set those who cannot fight or give medical assistance to making bandages, dressings, and the like.

Prepare the great hall to be used as a hospital. Mattresses and cots should be brought in for this purpose and both hearths kept burning to maintain a good supply of boiled water.

Prepare the cellars beneath the keep to shelter the injured, sick, womenfolk, and children if the outer defenses are overrun. A separate part can be used as a mortuary.

The list Isla had hoped she would never have to read, let alone use, went on and on, each line hammering home their awful plight, and making her fear increasingly for all their lives, but most of all for Gregory’s.

In a short while, she gathered herself and went downstairs to give the necessary orders to prepare for an attack. She toured the pantry and storerooms with the housekeeper and cooks, setting them to making a detailed inventory of all the food supplies and arrangements for storage.

After that, she sent a maid to gather all the women and older male servants of the castle who could not fight, as well as the castle healer Davina McGhee and her assistant. Once everyone had gathered amid an atmosphere of fearful anticipation, she held a meeting, going over each of the instructions on her grandmother’s list and overseeing the division of tasks.

“If there is an attack, it will be me duty as lady of the castle tae help nurse the injured as they come in, so I’ll be makin’ mesel’ useful helpin’ Davina in the great hall. She’ll need all the volunteers she can get tae nurse the injured. Even just offerin’ hot tea and comfort can make a difference,” she told them before closing the meeting and sending them off to go about their allotted duties.

However, at the same time as she was busy organizing all this, there remained a part of her mind that was actively turning over the various possibilities concerning a plan to keep Gregory alive.

Chapter Two

By the time the meeting finally broke up, Isla had still not seen Gregory to discuss what was happening. Deciding she had to speak to him whether he was busy or not, she went along to his study and knocked on the door.

“Come,” came his deep voice from the other side. She opened the door and went in, to find him standing around the large table with Connor, Kelvin, and Domnall. All four looked up when she entered, their expressions intent and serious. They had their shirt sleeves rolled up and appeared to be poring over maps and diagrams laid out before them, which she guessed were strategic plans for the defense of the castle.

“Isla. Are ye all right?” Gregory asked her as she approached them, his handsome brow creased into a worried frown. He unfolded his tall, powerful frame, pushed his long fair hair back from his face, and fixed his light gray eyes on her.

“Aye, I’m as all right as one can be in such circumstances, I suppose,” she replied briskly, though her heart ached to look at him. She dearly wanted to embrace him but held off in company, knowing he needed to appear strong at this challenging time. “I just came tae see how ye’re gettin’ on and tell ye that I’ve set all the preparations in motion should an attack take place, accordin’ tae Grandma’s instructions.”

Gregory smiled at her with obvious gratitude. “That’s good tae hear. Thank ye fer takin’ charge of all that, Sister. ’Tis one less thing fer me tae worry about.” He paused for a moment, then he said softly, “I’m sorry ’tis such bad news.”

“Aye, well, it was certainly a shock when Connor told me what’s happenin’,” she lied, feeling only a little bit guilty for pulling the wool over his eyes. ’Tis his fault fer nae keepin’ me informed.

“Are ye scared?”

She huffed. “Of course, I am! I’d be a fool if I wasnae, eh?” The others smiled at her comment.

“Aye, only a fool disnae feel afraid when he ought tae,” Connor murmured.

“And that’s how ye lose a war,” Kelvin put in sagely, nodding his dark head.

“But I must tell ye, Gregory,” Isla went on, needing to voice her concerns, “I curse this war Laird Allan has dragged us intae. ’Tis nae our fight. This shouldnae be happenin’. Ballentine should be camped outside Laird Allan’s walls, nae ours. ’Tis our folks who’ll be dyin’ if Ballentine attacks. When he attacks,” she corrected herself. A mixture of anger and fear rose inside her at the wrongness of it, and she clasped her hands tightly at her waist to keep it from erupting.

Gregory appeared to ignore her view of the matter. Instead, he said in a reassuring tone, “Things appear worse than they are. Laird Allan will send reinforcements as soon as he gets me message. In a few days’ time, the picture may be very different.” He sounded confident, but again, she knew that went along with his responsibilities as the laird. Any doubts he harbored, he would keep to himself for the dark hours of the night.

Frustration sharpened her tongue as she retorted tartly, “Well, I suppose we must hope Ballentine waits politely fer Allan’s men tae arrive before he attacks then. Mayhap we should invite him in fer tea while he waits.”

Kelvin sniggered, and Gregory smiled wryly, but he was clearly not going to be drawn in by her sarcasm. “Since ’tis us Ballentine has in his sights just now, we havenae choice but tae defend ourselves if he decides tae launch his attack afore then,” he explained. “Remember, Isla, he and his men cannae just simply walk intae Castle Galbraith. These walls are ten feet thick, and me men are well supplied with weapons. We have our own water supply within the walls and should have enough general supplies tae see us through until the reinforcements get here. We can easily hold him off.”

Unconvinced, Isla burst out, “Can ye nae sue fer peace, come tae some arrangement with Ballentine and avoid the bloodshed?” She heard the pleading note in her voice and despised it.

Gregory shook his head. “I’ll nae renege on me word tae defend Allan’s cause.”

She wanted to shout, “Ye mean ye’re too stubborn!” But she bit it back. Instead, she simply pursed her lips and nodded. “Very well. Will we be dining together this evening as usual?”

“I’m nae sure. I think we’ll be too busy here.”

“All right, I’ll have some food sent in fer ye later,” she said, surveying them all. “I’ll leave ye tae yer plans then.”

“Aye, I’ll come and find ye when I’m free,” Gregory told her before turning back to the others and resuming the discussion while Isla left the room with a heavy heart.

It was only four o’clock and still light. Feeling restless and on edge, she decided to go outside and gauge the atmosphere among the villagers who were streaming into the castle for shelter from the coming storm. She stepped out past the guard on the keep doors and stood on the steps watching as the clansfolk made their way through the gigantic gates to what they hoped would be a safe haven.

The atmosphere was surprisingly subdued, with none of the usual chatter or laughter as the river of humanity flowed steadily into the courtyard, some lugging bundles or pushing handcarts full of their possessions. White-faced women carried crying babes in their arms, while scared-looking children pulled their younger siblings along. The old and sick and heavily pregnant were carried in on makeshift litters or supported by strong arms and shoulders inside the towering stronghold.

The cacophony from the livestock and the barking, sniffing dogs that ran loose among the incoming throng echoed from the walls. Sheep, pigs, cows, and goats streamed in along with the people. Those with horses or mules or donkeys rode or drove them through the gates. Chickens and other edible fowl rode in style, packed in willow cages on the beds of numerous carts and wagons pulled by enormous shire horses. More carts and wagons loaded with straw, hay, grain, turnips, and other produce, rumbled over the cobblestones of the courtyard, heading towards the rear of the castle to supply the kitchens and stables.

Among all this, groups of heavily armed soldiers moved rapidly about, their commanders barking orders as they deployed their men to oversee the influx.

The cold leaden weight lodged in Isla’s belly grew heavier still as she watched the strained faces filing past her. The very air felt doom-laden, but she maintained her calm exterior and smiled and nodded encouragingly at the villagers, as was her duty as the laird’s sister.

While she stood there observing the organized chaos, she could not help but overhear the conversation of the guards stationed directly behind her on the steps of the castle keep. They were talking to their replacements, who had come to relieve them of duty.

“What’s tae dae, lads?” one of them asked the newcomers. “Is it true what the rumors say, that Ballentine’s army is camped less than a day’s ride from here?”

“Aye, it seems that way. Ye’re tae attend a briefin’ at five with the laird tae get yer orders,” one of the new guards explained.

“Jaysus, I never thought it would come tae this, the enemy campin’ at our gates. It’ll nae take him and his army long tae reach us once they start movin’.”

“The laird’s already sent a messenger tae Laird Allan fer reinforcements, so we only havetae hold them off until they get here.”

“Aye, that’s somethin’, I suppose. With luck, the laird might be able tae infiltrate some spies in the enemy camp and find out what Ballentine’s plannin’.”

“Aye, I’m sure he’s thought of that already… Well, ye two had best be off and get somethin’ tae eat afore the briefin’.”

“Aye, thanks, lads, we’ll see ye later at the barracks fer an ale or two, I hope.” The original guards departed, and the new guards settled into their positions by the door, pikes at the ready.

The comment about infiltrating spies had struck a chord with Isla. Like a seed, the idea took root in her mind. It sprouted and grew quickly, pulling her back inside the keep and upstairs to her chambers in search of privacy. By the time she had shut herself safely inside, the buds of a plan were already forming in her mind. She sat on her bed and thought.

A spy in Ballentine’s camp who could find out his plans to attack the castle could potentially turn the tide of the war, and everyone’s fates. In fact, it could avert an attack altogether, and her brother and his men wouldn’t have to fight. He’d be safe. They would all be safe. But how did one infiltrate an enemy camp without getting found out and killed for being a spy? Or rather, how could a woman infiltrate an enemy camp without getting discovered and killed as a suspected spy, or worse?

Various scenarios ran through her mind, and all but one ended in summary execution. With that possibility in mind, she realized that, even if an interloper avoided detection and discovered Ballentine’s plans, there was no guarantee the attack would be called off. Then it came to her in a sudden burst of clarity, and the plan blossomed to full fruition.

Filled with resolution and knowing time was of the essence if she were to successfully safeguard Gregory’s life, she hurried to put it into action. She fetched a cloth bag from her wardrobe, placed it on the bed, and spent the next hour packing it with the things she would need for a journey, including a candle stub and tinder box and her father’s dirk, which she stole from Gregory’s wardrobe.

When the clock on the mantel chimed midnight, she was ready. With stout riding boots on her feet, a long, hooded woolen cloak covering her entire person and concealing the dirk stuck in her waistband, she pulled on gloves, hoisted the bag, and left her chambers on silent feet.

Getting out of the castle unseen was perhaps the easiest part. Beneath the hulking fortress ran a network of underground tunnels, from which one could move invisibly to any part of the castle one chose. She and Gregory had played in the tunnels for hours when they were growing up, and Isla knew them well. Descending to the depths by a hidden door, she paused to strike a light before starting off along a tunnel that eventually emerged in the tree line of a copse a few hundred feet outside the castle gates.

She took off across the dark meadows, the half-moon lighting her way to the neighboring farm. There, she paused long enough to steal a horse before setting off in the direction of Waverley Forest. The knowledge that her mission to protect Gregory and all she held dear had begun in earnest spurred her on as she rode through the night.

There’s nay other way than tae sneak intae Ballentine’s camp… and kill him.

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Dunvegan Castle, December 1293

“Are ye going tae stand still, Kai, or are ye planning tae drive us all mad with yer constant bouncing?” Domhnall’s voice made Kai whip his head around to see all his siblings snickering.

Domhnall stood calm as ever, with the thoughtful Magnus at his side. He was watching Kai carefully, his head cocked at an angle, as Thora and Enya giggled between them.

“What?” Kai said with innocence. “I’m simply annoyed I couldnae go riding this morning. That’s all.” He folded his arms and tried to stand as still as his brothers, shutting down his thoughts as much as possible.

He knew well enough by now that when Magnus was looking at him with that penetrating gaze, he was seeing things in Kai’s mind. Things Kai didn’t necessarily want him to see.

Kai’s skill was similar to Magnus’, though perhaps more illuminating at times, an ability to read people’s emotions when touching them and being able to change them, usually for the better.

At this moment in time, it was plain that Thora and Enya were both excited about their visitors, and they found Kai’s fidgeting extremely humorous. Domhnall was more anxious, wanting the formal feast they were about to share with their neighboring clan to go as well as it could possibly go. Magnus, on the other hand, had learned to distance himself from his emotions. Bearing the calmest of tempers of all of them, his emotions were as quiet as he was with his words.

“Aye, aye, that’s what it is,” Domhnall said with sarcasm. “Yer anxious mood has nothing tae dae with our visitors arriving now, daes it?”

“I dinnae ken what ye mean.” Kai shrugged, trying to ignore what he was feeling.

“They’re here, they’re here!” Enya declared with sudden delight, racing to the window of the great hall that looked out over the courtyard of the castle.

The others moved to her side, all looking at the riders. Kai was careful to follow at a slow pace, well aware that Thora looked back at him, curiosity now in her expression.

“What is it?” Kai whispered to her.

“I just saw something. A flick of ye and…” She looked away, out of the window and down to one of the riders. “It doesnae matter. Ye ken as well as I the things I see dinnae always make sense tae me.”

“I wish ye wouldnae fear yer gift,” he whispered, for her ears only as the others talked excitedly of their visitors.

“Try me gift sometime,” Thora said with a sigh. “The glimpses I have of what may come tae pass, they dinnae always make sense.” The way she chewed her lip and looked out of the window told Kai the answer to the question he feared to ask. Had Thora seen something good in his future? Or something he should fear?

I should fear it. I feel it coming off Thora.

She kept her focus on one of the riders in particular.

“Laird Finley MacKinnon,” Domhnall said as he stared at the three main riders and the guards who had accompanied them.

“Why are ye nervous?” Magnus asked. “They are the clan’s oldest friends. Laird Finley has seen us all grow up.”

“Aye, I ken.” Domhnall nodded. “I dinnae want anything tae sour that relationship. Ever.” He glanced in Kai’s direction.

“Why did ye look at me then?”

“Ye ken very well why,” Domhnall said with a sigh. “Yer reputation with women is getting worse by the day.”

“I am nae that bad,” Kai insisted. Thora and Enya both looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m really nae, sisters.”

“Hmm,” they grunted in unison, then looked out of the window again.

“All I’m saying, Kai, is that if ye were tae pursue Laird Finley’s daughter, I fear what it could dae tae our oldest and best alliance,” Domhnall went on, standing tall.

“I beg yer pardon?” Kai felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. “Why would I pursue his daughter? Which one, anyone?”

All of his siblings stared at him now, the suspicion in their gazes so strong that Kai flinched at the power of those stares.

“Ye and Ava are inseparable,” Enya said, casting a gaze to the heavens to plead for patience.

“The way ye look at her,” Domhnall added, shaking his head. “Leaves little tae the imagination. I dinnae need Magnus’ skill of reading minds tae ken what ye are thinking.”

“Ye’re wrong,” Kai said sharply. “Ava and I are just friends. We always have been.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows so high in disbelief that Kai fidgeted on the spot.

“We are friends,” he said again, to which Magnus shook his head.

“Then shut down yer thoughts so I cannae glimpse them, Kai,” Magnus ordered in a low undertone.

Kai looked away, down at the riders.

It is hard tae deny that there is something there.

His gaze landed on Ava. She had just jumped down from her horse, her long blonde braid wild behind her. A warrior lady, she carried a sword on one hip and a dagger on the other. She was still young, but growing more and more into a woman.

Kai had to admit that from the first day he had ever met Ava, over ten years ago now, in this same spot in the great hall, he had been struck by her. Her wit and her strength, had drawn him to her. They had been friends by the end of the day when Laird MacKinnon had departed with his two daughters.

They saw each other often, when their clans met up, but they also made the effort to see each other alone. Many a night had they crept into the forests together to meet, or even the staff’s kitchen, for a place where the two of them could talk, be themselves, without interruption.

Over the last year, their friendship had shifted. Ava becoming a woman, leaving girlhood behind, was making Kai look at her differently. It would have been a lie to pretend he had never imagined him and Ava together, never thought of what it would be like to kiss her, to pleasure her, to have her in his bed.

Even now, he released a growling sigh, until Magnus elbowed him in the rib.

“Dinnae read me mind if ye dinnae like what ye see,” Kai hissed at him.

“Then shut down yer thoughts,” Magnus ordered. “They are coming.” He nodded through the window.

Laird Finley was leading the way up the keep steps, with his daughters, Ava and Lyla, following behind. It would be little more than a minute now before they were in the great hall.

Kai’s breath shuddered a little as he turned his gaze upon the double doors which were already open, waiting for Laird Finley’s arrival.

“Ah, Laird Finley,” Domhnall declared as Laird Finley walked in first. At once, he moved toward him and bowed. The others followed, though Kai hung back, returning to his fidgeting manner as he waited for another to appear.

Lyla came next, moving to Enya and Thora to greet them.

At last, there she is.

Ava appeared next, having shed her cloak and her weapons, so she was wearing a rich navy blue tartan gown, cinched just under the bust, to show off her athletic figure. Kai felt his breath hitch as he moved toward her.

She smiled when she saw him.

“Good day,” she whispered as he took her hand.

“Good day tae ye too.” He clasped it between both of his palms, a momentary act of friendship in the busy room. “Would ye like tae go fer a ride?”

Let us get out of here. Let us be just the two of us again.

“Aye, I–” Before she could say anymore though, Laird Finley called out to her.

“Ava, come. There will be a feast.” Laird Finley beckoned her to his side. Ava offered an apologetic smile, then moved to stand beside her father.

Kai’s hand dropped at his hip as he stared after her.

“Ye ken what he’s thinking, dinnae ye?” Magnus’ voice at Kai’s side made him jump.

“That’s yer gift. Nae mine,” Kai reminded him.

“He’s thinking ye are nae good enough fer his daughter. He certainly doesnae want Ava tae be just another woman ye bed.”

“She would never be that. It’s Ava,” Kai hissed.

“He doesnae ken that, Kai.” Magnus sighed. “Be careful, braither. Domhnall is right. We dinnae want tae make an enemy of our best ally.” As Magnus walked away, Kai felt numb.

He stared at Ava, now drawn into conversation with her father and Domhnall.

With Ava, it would never be that.

The mere thought of bedding Ava and then forgetting what they had shared disgusted Kai. She was different, she meant more to him than any other.

It was like a lightning bolt striking him overhead, the realization so strong that he actually wavered a little and reached out to the wall, holding a palm against the stone to keep himself standing.

Dear God… when did I fall in love with Ava?

Magnus’ eyes were on him. With horror, Kai realized that Magnus had seen into his mind at precisely the wrong moment. Ever so slightly, Magnus shook his head.

Kai nodded, showing he understood. It didn’t matter if he was in love with Ava, if she meant more to him than any other woman had ever done. The risk was too great, he couldn’t ever jeopardize the friendship with the MacKinnons.

Also Ava was the perfect woman, and he was nothing more than the roguish younger braither of a laird. How could he ever hope fer her tae love him back?

In the middle of her conversation with her father, she turned and looked at him, smiling. It made his stomach jolt with excitement.

Ah, Ava, ye are out of me reach.

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Chapter One

Castle MacKinnon, November 1298

“Ava, dae ye really think a woman who claims tae be able to see intae the future will help ye seduce a man?”

Ava halted in the middle of the castle corridor. She turned abruptly to face her little sister, swinging the burning torch around with her as she moved. Lyla, startled, jumped away from her.

“Careful, sister! I ken ye are a warrior but dae me the favor of nae giving me the wounds yer other opponents bear.”

“I’m sorry,” Ava muttered hurriedly, “but ye ken we dinnae have time fer this argument now. Me mind is made up. Ye can either stay here or come with me, but I am going, Lyla.”

Lyla sighed, her dark blonde hair becoming a curtain as it fell across her face. Ava pushed back the wisps of her own blonde hair, that had fallen out of the customary braid she wore. Tonight, she would not be distracted by fear or the serious nature of her sister’s conversation.

I have a mission tae accomplish.

“I am going,” Ava whispered. She turned, carrying the burning torch high as she slipped down a narrow spiral staircase with Lyla hurrying behind her. More than once her little sister nearly slipped on the stones. The cold air was so strong that night that even inside the castle there was moisture and growing frost on the stone steps. When they reached the bottom, Ava tiptoed toward the kitchens and the servants’ stairwell, knowing it was the best way out of the castle when they didn’t want to be glimpsed by the guards. By the doorway, she latched the burning torch onto an iron hook in the wall, knowing she couldn’t take it with them.

A guard would spot the burning fire from a mile away and come to investigate.

“I dinnae ken about this,” Lyla muttered seriously again.

Ava gave her no answer. Halting by the door for a second, she checked beneath her thick woolen cloak. She carried a dirk at her right hip, her customary basilard at her left hip, all latched into a belt. Ordinarily, she would have liked to have taken her crossbow with her when walking the clan lands alone, but tonight, she had to travel fast, and the crossbow with the bolts would have only weighed her down.

“This castle holds shadows fer us now, I ken that,” Lyla whispered hurriedly as Ava checked her weapons. “But dae ye honestly think ye will find answers by talking tae a mad woman?”

“And ye think a seer is a mad woman, dae ye? Sister, I dinnae pretend tae understand all the secrets of this world. I dinnae ken how it works, what magic and mystery lies beneath the veil of what I can see. Maybe she does,” Ava added, fiercely, but quietly. “If she can help me at all, then I need tae take this chance.”

“Aye, aye, I ken.” Lyla sighed once again as Ava reached for the door.

“Now come, before we are seen.” Ava slipped the key into the door that she had stolen from the castle steward’s chamber earlier that day and slipped it into the lock. It clunked rather heavily, making the two of them halt and look around. When no sound followed, Ava opened the door.

The moment they both stepped outside, they shivered. The wind was bitterly cold, the clouds heavy with snow, threatening to open their icy treasure any second now, adding to the already rich covering of white snow on the ground. The moon, a mere crescent in the sky, was only just visible peeking through those heavy clouds.

“Lovely night, isnae it?” Lyla whispered to Ava with irony in her tone.

“Charming,” Ava agreed. She pressed her lips into the fur lining of her cloak and walked forward through the grounds, with the shorter Lyla racing to keep up with her.

As they crossed through the snowy courtyard toward the curtain wall, Lyla hopped between clumps of snow as Ava walked purposefully, her hand constantly gripping the hilt of her basilard beneath her cloak.

“Dae ye think –”

“Shh,” Ava pleaded. “We dinnae want a guard tae hear us now.”

As if he had been summoned by her words, Ava saw movement atop the nearest curtain wall. She reached for Lyla’s shoulder and pushed her down beneath the well in the middle of the courtyard, out of use thanks to the thick layer of ice which had formed at the bottom. Lyla yelped in surprise, forcing Ava to dart down too.

She held her finger to her lips, warning Lyla not to make another sound. If we’re discovered Faither will be fumin’.”

The guard’s loud footsteps on the curtain wall had stopped, suggesting he had heard Lyla’s noise and had whipped around, staring into the courtyard to investigate. Ava didn’t dare sneak a peek, but waited, holding her breath, until she heard his footsteps again. Peering around the edge of the well, she looked to his place atop the wall. He had returned to his patrol, no longer looking their way.

Ava grabbed Lyla’s hand and ran with her. Her younger sister, much slenderer and not so athletic in build, struggled to keep up as Ava ran to the nearest door. They pressed themselves against the stone wall as Ava pressed a second key, she had taken into a door hidden in the stone wall.

It was a secret door, barely used by any. If the rumors were to be believed, the guards had this door installed years ago to bring in their mistresses and wives at night when no one was looking. Ava wasn’t sure if she believed the tales, though she knew men’s appetites would warrant it.

She shuddered at the thought of men’s appetites when it came to the bedchamber and opened the door, inching it carefully across the snow on the ground to stay as quiet as possible.

As they slipped through, the snow was now thick on the ground thanks to the skeletal branches of the trees above, though their journey became suddenly darker.

Ava followed a path through the forest she knew all too well, for it had been her training ground for years for hunting and fighting. Lyla, on the other hand, gripped to the back of her cloak, following every step she took.

“If I dinnae dae this, ye would be forced tae marry that man,” Ava shuddered.

She had seen him. The very man that their father also feared giving Lyla too.

A warrior, a soldier, and a brutal leader, he had fixated his desires on Lyla. Known for his cruel and insatiable appetites, Ava could not countenance the thought of handing her little sweet sister to a man like him.

“Ye ken I cannae let that happen.”

“But then that means…”

“I ken. I ken what it means.” Ava and her father had talked for hours about the alternatives. Her father, Laird Finley MacKinnon, had drank himself into a stupor with enough whisky to drown a horse.

Lyla’s suitor was adamant in his pursuit of her. Finley’s greatest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to turn the man down. The MacKinnon clan was in debt. For so long they had fought for the Scottish cause against the English. They had lost men, had poor harvests due to bad winters, and now, Finley was running out of options as to how to protect his clan. Lyla’s suitor offered him money. This would ruin Ava, as she was the older sister, and having Lyla marry first was unthinkable. Yet, it would save their clan at the expense of them both.

“Then we must find another way tae get money,” Ava had said in the early hours of the morning.

Her father had looked up from his whisky, staring at her, eyes wide.

“There’s another laird. One so rich that if ye were tae marry him, all our troubles would be gone. Lyla would be safe.”

“Who?” Ava had asked sharply.

“Laird Blair Grant,” Ava now murmured aloud, remembering the way her father had said it sharply that night. He was not known for being a man of soft heart, but he did not have the same reputation of cruelty as Lyla’s suitor.

“Ye dinnae have tae dae this,” Lyla pleaded again behind her, repeatedly slipping in the snow.

“I must.” Ava had at first been dismayed to see that her father hadn’t given up on the idea come morning when he was sober and nursing a bad head. He had urged her to seduce Laird Blair Grant. If she could catch such a wealthy laird’s eye and secure a proposal, Lyla would indeed be safe.

As time had gone on, and as Lyla’s suitor kept reappearing, Ava had become more determined.

He is right. Aye, I must dae this.

Ever since they had lost their mother many years before, Ava had felt it was her responsibility to care for Lyla, to look after her, to teach her how to fare in the world, and above all, to protect her. More than once, she had run headlong into danger in order to keep her sister safe, and now was no different.

Without their mother there to protect her, Ava would happily take her place and do what she could. She certainly wasn’t going to feed Lyla to a cruel man, the way a fox would be fed to the wolves.

A memory flickered across Ava’s mind. It was of a night she always tried to forget, when a man had grabbed her wrist, pinned her down. She remembered his breath on her neck, the way he stank, the fear coiling in her stomach like a viper –

“Where dae we go now?” Lyla’s question broke through the memory.

Ava came to a stop at a fork in the path, then led Lyla down a snowy track. She knew where she was going. How many times had she come across the seer’s hut in this wood? She been told never to go there, yet she had always been curious. Today, she had a need of this woman.

“I’m nay temptress,” Ava muttered as they made their way toward the hut, fighting through the snow as the bitter wind whipped their hair and their cloaks. “If I am going tae dae this, and I will, then I need direction. The seer will help me.”

Ava could feel from the way Lyla’s hands gripped the back of her cloak that she was ready to argue again, but her sister said nothing. Instead, she gasped. The sound brought Ava to a halt, she gripped the hilt of the basilard hard, ready to use it, only to see it was no man or creature that had frightened her. They had found the seer’s cabin.

Now they were here, the air felt different, somehow even icier than before, as if the snow hung in the air, invisible around them. The hut itself was almost completely swamped by snow, the roof sagging under its weight, the old croft windows mere circles of pebbles.

Ava took a small step forward, the snow crunching beneath her boots. In the windows, she saw something glitter. A string of shiny stones and beads had been hung there, which now swayed in the wind, rather ominously clicking against the stones around it. She supposed it was some charm to ward off demons.

“They say she doesnae let people in anymore,” Lyla hissed as Ava moved forward, with her sister staying close behind her.

“Then I pray she changes her mind tonight.” As Ava neared the croft, her boot crunched icy snow loudly. It was so noisy that a light was struck inside the croft.

Ava and Lyla froze, staring at the window. Was it a candle? Maybe a fire light? It burned a deep amber hue.

Ava raised her hand from her basilard, ready to knock when she hesitated. Her first doubts creeped in. She wondered if the seer would tell her anything useful at all? What if the seer only confirmed that Lyla would have to marry her cruel suitor in the end, that anything Ava could do wouldn’t avoid it? What if –

“Dinnae stand there dithering on me doorstep all night.” A sharp voice called from within the croft.

Lyla covered her mouth and jumped back three paces as Ava stood stock still, staring at the door with its carved witch symbols in the wood in amazement.

“Come, lass. Leave yer poor sister outside. Me fire would warm her, but she’ll be happier out there.”

Ava looked at Lyla, who was already nodding eagerly, clearly in no hurry to be inside the seer’s croft, for confirmation.

Ava turned the door handle and pushed it open. The door creaked ominously and loudly as she moved into the room.

“Close that door. Ye want an old woman tae die from the cold? Aye, aye, old bones decay quickly ye ken. I kenned a lass once who died from her bones turning tae ice. They didnae believe me. They never believe me, but I ken what I see.”

Ava closed the door sharply, turning to face the woman who was speaking so fast, she had to strain to listen to the individual words.

Sat before the fire was the seer, dressed in a thick woolen gown, a heavy wolf’s fur on her shoulders and dark hair around her face that was streaked with grey. She was chewing something, some sort of root, though she only chewed with one side of her jaw. One eye was wider than the other, as if the other caused her pain, and she didn’t once blink those eyes, giving her the impression of being a gargoyle that had sprung to life.

Jerkily, the woman gestured to the stool opposite her.

“Come, come. Nay time. Ye think guards dinnae ken when the daughter of a laird sneaks out of the castle?”

“They’ve never spotted it before,” Ava murmured as she sat on the stool, listening to it creak and whine behind her. She had snuck out many times in the night, just for the challenge of it… and the freedom.

“Hmm,” the seer grunted. “Speak. Why did ye come? Tell me.” The woman waved impatiently as she reached for a bundle of burning herbs and inhaled the rich scent of drive lavender and lemon thyme sharply, her nostrils flaring.

Ava spoke fast, obeying, though as she spoke, she couldn’t help staring at all the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. Rather oddly, there was a rabbit’s foot dangling from between the herbs too, and more witches’ symbols carved across the wooden beams that held up the thatched roof.

“I… I have come fer direction,” Ava forced herself on. “I am trying tae protect me sister. A cruel suitor wants her, and tae avoid it, me faither wishes me tae seduce a laird. He’s a wealthy man, so wealthy it could solve all our clan’s problems, but I am nay temptress. Nay seductress.” She gestured at her gown, the cloak, and the weapons she carried. “How does a woman like me go about this task? And if I dae it… will it work? Can I save Lyla?”

The seer’s wider eye seemed to widen impossibly further, gazing at Ava.

Yet Ava had not come to be messed with. She was here for a task, and she would not fidget and be made uncomfortable by the seer’s spooky ways. She sat taller on the stool, her spine becoming rigid.

“I have asked ye questions. Please, answer me,” she said with strength.

“Hmm. Aye, aye, got a heart, got a conscience, got fire in ye too.” The seer grunted with a chuckle. “Yet all ken that already.” She reached into the fire suddenly.

Ava leaped back in amazement, only to see that the seer took hold of another bundle of herbs and dropped them into a bowl on a small, crooked table beside her. The blackened leaves and flower heads fell off the stems and the woman picked up the bowl, spinning it round and round for a moment before she set it down, gazing at the flower heads as if they held the answers of the world. Eventually, she looked up, staring straight at Ava with that eerie stare once again.

“Yer future will depend on a choice ye make. That choice will be whether tae follow yer duty. Or yer heart.” It was spoken without passion. In fact, it was said without much interest, almost impassively.

“Me heart?” Ava shifted.

I am doing this because I have a heart. I love me sister and will dae anything tae protect her. Arenae me duty and me heart aligned?

“Either path ye choose will have consequences. Nay way tae ken the right one.”

“How helpful,” Ava muttered under her breath.

The seer leaned forward sharply. It was clear she was not yet done.

“And on either path ye take, there’ll be one there with ye. A man. A man tae steer ye intae yer future. Maybe show ye what seduction is.”

“I dinnae need –”

“As ye say, ye are nae a temptress.” The seer gestured to her with one of the burning bundles that now smelled strongly of lavender and acrid burning wood. “Look at the border between the MacKinnons and the MacLeods. Ye have close ties with their clan. In three days, in a tavern called The Stag’s Rest, there will be a man. He’s a rake. A man who could read emotions with one look and can seduce any lass he likes intae his bed. He’s a man of careless elegance, a man whose confidence is his second skin, and has eyes like a storm over a sea.”

Ava started to fidget uncomfortably. How could the seer possibly see this man in her mind?

“He is dangerous and mischievous, and he commands eyes even without trying. He’ll be wearing a heavy hat. Ungainly thing. Quite ugly. That is how ye’ll ken it’s him. Find him.” She leaned back sharply. “The student will need a master if she is tae learn and change her future.”

“And ye think that is possible?” Ava asked keenly. “Ye think that if I choose this path, I can change the future?”

“I see possible futures, lass. I dinnae see which one will come.” With a flick of her wrist, the seer dismissed her.

Chapter Two

Three Days Later, The Stag’s Rest, Torrin

“Och, bloody thing,” Kai muttered beneath his breath as he adjusted the large hat on his head. It was a ridiculous thing, necessary, but made no less ridiculous because of it. So large and heavy, it repeatedly slipped down his brow, hiding half his face from the rest of the world.

Necessary, remember that, ye fool, he reminded himself.

As scout for his elder brother, Laird of the MacLeod’s, it was Kai’s position to occasionally act the ridiculous fool in order to get the information they needed. It kept their clan and the Scottish safe, and countless times had saved them when it came to their battles against the English.

Adjusting the hat once more on his head, he shifted against the tavern wall, staring out across the room.

The Stag’s Rest was hardly a reputable place. There were ladies who sold themselves here, thieves gathering at every table, bandits masking their faces with scarves, and even an innkeeper who served up beer which had most likely been watered down to fleece his customers. Kai dared to try another sip of it, but it tasted so foul, he pushed it away, drumming his fingers idly against the tankard as he looked at the door, waiting for the entrance of the man he was to meet.

Two lasses walked in, with dresses so low cut that Kai inhaled sharply. Their cleavages were deep, their curves obvious, but Kai forced himself to look away.

He had a healthy appetite in that regard. He had shared his bed with many a lass, sometimes they didn’t even make it to a bed. It helped. It made him thrum with excitement and thrill, gave him confidence, even if none of the women came close to the one woman whom he wished he could share his bed with.

She’ll never be that. Remember that.

He pushed thoughts of her away, not even allowing her name to surface in his mind. Tonight, he had to be serious. His elder brother, Domhnall, had sent him here for a reason.

“Ye are the only one who can dae this.” Domhnall had spoken commandingly as they trained together out on the lawns behind the MacLeod castle. “This man is nae related tae our clan. He will have information from other clans, inside knowledge we cannae find any other way.”

“I ken all that. I said I’m happy tae go, didnae I?” Kai had laughed and tried to drive the sword toward his brother again, but Domhnall had deflected it.

Kai was athletic in build, but also lithe. It made him ideal for being a scout – he was a fast rider and quick fighter, but Domhnall was broad of muscle and a brutal warrior. Kai once saw his brother flatten a man out cold with nothing but his bare fist. Kai frequently thanked his lucky stars he was born Domhnall’s family and not his enemy.

“I need ye tae dae more than just listen tae what he says,” Domhnall had gone on, walking around him, ready to fight again.

“Aye, aye, I ken.” Kai had held his arms out wide, like a performer on stage. “Ye wish me tae use me usual tricks, dinnae ye? Tae see his emotions, see what he’s hiding from us. Sense when he’s lying, aye?”

Domhnall had nodded his head sharply.

Kai may have been the joker of the group, the one who seemed confident and at ease, but they all knew it gave him an advantage. No one expected him to be the one who was always watching, always astute, always sensing things that people were trying to hide.

Aye, it’s me magic.

He chuckled at the mere thought and adjusted himself on the bench again, daring another sip of the watered-down beer before he spat it back into the tankard and gagged at the taste.

The door opened and the drunken men shouted for it to be closed fast as a flurry of snow came in and the icy wind made them all fidget. The innkeeper’s wife added more logs to the fire as the door was kicked shut and the man who had just entered looked around.

Kai only needed to glance at him to know this was the man he had been waiting for.

Like him, this scout was dressed demurely, trying to hide in plain sight. He rubbed his hands uneasily, blowing on them to summon some warmth, his thick black curly hair hanging down from the hat on his head. The eager way he looked around, showing he was searching for someone, just confirmed what Kai already knew. His weapons were hidden beneath his cloak, including a dirk pressed into the ankle of his boot. It was where Kai often hid a weapon of his own, though his was a little more discreet.

The scout looked toward him, pulling down the thick woolen scarf that covered the lower half of his face. When he saw Kai’s hat, he recognized the symbol. It had been in Kai’s letter to the man, that if he wanted to talk, come to this tavern and talk to the guy wearing the large hat.

Kai flicked his fingers to the nearest bar maid as the scout approached. Affecting an easy smile, Kai ordered two more beers.

“I’m glad ye made it,” Kai put on a cheerful attitude and nodded for the man to take his seat. “A drink, aye? Ye need tae warm yer bones from all that snow.”

“Aye. Thank ye.” The scout sat down on the bench opposite Kai, clearly a little startled by Kai’s easy manner. He looked around his shoulders, nervous of being overheard.

This is a good start.

It was what Kai had wanted to see. A scout delivering secret information shouldn’t be at ease and confident, but nervous – even terrified about being overheard.

They waited for the beers to be brought then Kai offered a toast.

“Tae warmth and summer. Aye, I pray it is here soon.” As he pretended to sip the beer, having no intention of drinking any more of it, the scout gulped heavily.

Aye, he’s definitely nervous.

“We may be waiting a while fer that.” The man scoffed then coughed, clearly finding the beer as unappetizing as Kai did.

“Ye ken why we are here then.” Kai leaned forward, determined to get to the crux of their meeting. “What can ye tell me?”

The man wiped his mouth uneasily, looked about his shoulders, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“The English. They’re encroaching more and more onto the Highlanders’ territory.” For the first time, Kai noticed there was something more to the Scottish lilt in the man’s voice. There was an English note too.

“Ye have English blood?”

“English maither, Scottish faither.” The man shifted, his face turning pink. Clearly, he had hoped this wouldn’t be noticed. “I fight fer Scotland.”

“Then why are ye nervous? Why worry about telling me these things?”

Once more, the man shifted uncomfortably.

“Because the clan I report tae is considering an alliance with the English. It’s what the English are doing. They’re working their way into our land by diplomacy. Or buying allegiance, call it what ye like.”

“Dae ye think there will be a battle?”

“Nay. Nae yet.” The man shook his head sharply. “They’re too busy having political discussions. I come tae offer yer laird a warning. That is all. Be wary of the riches the English offer ye and beware of clans ye think are yer friends. They may yet be bought.” He spoke with earnestness, not looking away from Kai’s gaze now.

Aye, he is telling the truth.

Kai knew it without having to doubt himself.

“Then I thank ye fer yer information.” Kai nodded. “What did ye risk tae come and tell me this?”

“Me position.” The man shifted. “I’m already nae trusted by some in me own clan because of me English maither, but I willnae let the English wipe out Scotland inch by inch without doing something about it.” The passion was evident. “It is right someone kens, even if me clan intends tae dae naething about it.”

He stood sharply as the door opened. Kai didn’t even look who had walked in this time, for his eyes were set on the man before him. The scout’s hand had gone to the weapons in his belt.

He fears fer his life.

“Then ye best get out of here fast.” Kai put some coins on the table. “Take this. Get yerself a fresh horse and ride home. Thank ye, again.”

The man nodded, jerkily took the coins, and left, sweeping out of the door as quickly as he arrived, with people cursing as the door was opened and more snow came in across the floor.

Kai sat forward after the man had gone. Now this meeting was done, he felt a calm washing over him.

“Aye, it was the truth,” he muttered, staring down into the tankard, knowing in his gut it was. In a way, it was reassuring. No impending battle meant they could protect their forces, rebuild themselves, take care of their clan, yet it was still a cause for concern. Maybe the English intended to make the Scottish their own by buying everyone.

I need tae tell Domhnall.

It was a heavy burden of responsibility. As one of the lairds’ brothers, he knew each of them had a responsibility and a task to attend to in order to keep the clan safe. Kai’s place had come naturally. He was built for quick riding, and his astuteness made him a good judge of character and a man’s honesty.

He pushed the tankard away, not intending to drink anymore as he sat back and debated what to do next. He could go back to Dunvegan castle, report to Domhnall tonight, yet there was an allure to the idea of finding company for the night and going back in the morning. He also didn’t particularly want to drink alone.

He looked around the tavern, seeing many women. Some clearly sold themselves, but there were others who wouldn’t charge. They were here to look for a good night themselves.

There was one particular lass who caught his eye. She was blonde. He had to force himself to look away. His taste for blonde hair in particular stemmed from thinking too much of one woman. It would do no good to sleep with that lass and constantly imagine she was another.

He pushed the tankard aside and stood. Maybe he could share one drink with a lass in this tavern, see what happened. There was always the chance that drink and a night together, full of pleasure, could wash away that part of him which was broken, the part he always tried to mask and stuff down, so he never had to look it in the face.

As he stood, he felt someone at his shoulder. His hand went to the broadsword at his hip. He was ready. If a man was going to pick his pocket, he wouldn’t get far.

“I have been looking for ye. I have an offer tae make ye.” The lass’ voice intrigued him, but what piqued his interest even more were her words.

An offer? What offer, lass?

“I am willing tae pay whatever it takes.”

Wait… that voice.

Kai whipped around fast, turning so quickly that the lass standing at his shoulder stepped back to avoid colliding with him.

This is nae possible!

The woman before him shouldn’t have been here. The blonde hair shouldn’t be there, those hazel eyes, the full cheeks, the wide mouth that was so kissable and yet out of reach.

“Ava?” he hissed in alarm as her perfect lips fell apart in an ‘o’ shape of shock. It was the woman he had loved hopelessly for years, the one he could never have, the one he had to love quietly from a distance and be nothing more to her than her closest friend. “What in God’s name are ye doing here?”

“Och, damn me life…”

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