Summer in Grant land, the Highlands of Scotland, late 13th century
Jake Grant stood on the dais of the great hall filled with Grants and Ramsays. The majority of the Ramsays, who were considered family by marriage, were still at Grant castle after joining them for Sorcha Ramsay’s wedding.
A messenger had arrived not long ago, and the man had immediately been led to the solar. Kyla Grant had watched it happen, and she now trembled in anticipation of the words that were about to come from her brother’s mouth. Something dangerous was afoot; she just knew it. As acting laird of the Grant clan—along with his twin, Jamie—it was her brother’s duty to pass on the news.
“Prepare for battle,” Jake said, not attempting to soften the directive. “Word has reached us that Glenn of Buchan has a band of mercenaries who plan on attacking our castle within the fortnight with the intent of killing our sire, Alex Grant.” Kyla sucked in a gasp as Jake nodded to their father, seated at the front of the dais. Alex had passed on the lairdship to Kyla’s brothers after he was injured in a recent battle. “Buchan’s plan is to make his move while my sire is still in a weakened state.”
Jamie added, “He also still voices vengeance against the Ramsays, so we are all targets.”
Gracie Grant, Jamie’s wife, reached over to clasp Kyla’s hand. “We have a verra strong clan, Kyla. Never forget that.” Was her mood so easy to read?
“But how much more can we endure?” The clans’ shared enemy, Ranulf MacNiven, had finally been defeated. Still, it had not put a stop to their troubles. Baron Crichton of Duncrub had attacked the Grants, wounding Kyla’s father, and though they’d defeated him, his second, Simon de La Porte, remained free. And Bearchun, a former guard with the Ramsays, had escaped after making an attack on Sorcha. If all these enemies had banded together with Glenn of Buchan, they were in trouble indeed.
Logan Ramsay, Sorcha’s sire, stood at the end of the dais. “We’ve discussed this at length. Quade and I will not put any lives at risk by traveling through the Highlands with English mercenaries running wild under the bastard Simon de La Porte. We assume he is with Buchan, but we really know naught about him yet. The Ramsays and Grants are stronger together.”
A hush fell across the group at Logan’s announcement.
Kyla’s father slowly got to his feet to address the small crowd. He didn’t need to silence anyone. They all anxiously awaited his announcement. “I know you have many questions, but this is all we shall reveal for now. Rumors are rampant throughout the Highlands at present, including talk of my death. We felt it necessary to address them. The details of what happens next will be up to your lairds and our warriors, but know that we are prepared to defend Grant land. We may even decide to go on the offensive—if our king is willing to support such a movement. Molly and Tormod will travel to Edinburgh to meet with King Alexander. Until then, we wait.
“I ask you to be patient, and for everyone to stay close to the safety of our castle walls. We welcome the Ramsays. Their warriors will join our ranks, and I believe we have the best minds in all of the land working on our strategy.”
The gathering broke up, but all Kyla could do was sit and stare, entranced by what had taken place in front of her. Her mother, Maddie, helped her sire back to their new chamber on the first floor. Logan, Jake, Jamie, and a few others headed into the solar with Molly and Tormod. The few warriors who’d been allowed to join the gathering headed out the door, their voices loud and boisterous as they discussed the possible battles ahead.
Why must men love to fight so?
Finally, when Kyla could get herself to move again, she hustled into the kitchens to speak to Cook and make sure there were no problems with the supper menu. They’d been preparing extra since Sorcha’s wedding.
When she returned, she leaned against a post, uncertain of what to do next. She needed to do something, and while she had an idea of what she wished to do, it was a foolish plan at best.
Or was it?
She found Sorcha in the still-crowded great hall—an easy task given her cousin’s bright hair—clasped her hand, and led her up the stairs and into the new woman’s solar that had been created from her parents’ old chamber. Peeking inside, she noted they were alone, which was exactly as she’d hoped. Closing the door behind her, she put her finger to her lips.
“Hush, Sorcha.”
“What is it?”
“We must do something.” Kyla squeezed her cousin’s hand. “We cannot stand by and watch our beloved Grant castle be ruined or taken over by the infidels. I have a plan, but we must make haste to Buchan land to carry it out.”
“How are we to do aught?” Sorcha asked, clearly alarmed. “True, I can use my bow, but one archer cannot do much alone, and I am certain Cailean would not approve of it. ‘Tis not safe.”
“Bring Cailean along. ‘Tis a mission of peace. Buchan would not dare attack us under those conditions or the king would take his castle. If we can speak to them, mayhap we can convince them to stop this madness before any more blood is spilled.”
“My father would never allow it.”
“Why not? Molly and Tormod travel alone all the time.”
“Aye, but only after they were trained. Molly has told me a wee bit about what they were asked to do, and ‘tis not for me.” She motioned for Kyla to keep her voice down.
Kyla led her to the hearth on the outer wall, away from the door. “Sorcha, I’ll ride there alone if I must. If I can put an end to this for our clans, I will.”
“Did you not hear what they said about the mercenaries? They could be approaching our land as we speak! Can you not guess what they would do to a beautiful lass? You’d be kidnapped like so many others have been. You must stay here.” Sorcha’s voice shook with passion, and Kyla knew why: she’d been kidnapped not long ago by three unsavory characters. If it hadn’t been for her husband, she might have been raped.
The door swung open, and Gracie stepped into the solar. She halted as soon as she saw the two of them huddled near the hearth. “I knew it. I could tell by the glimmer in your eyes, Kyla Grant. You’re planning something. I knew for certes as soon as you hurried out of the hall.”
Sorcha spun around and said, “Nay. She was trying to, but I’ll not allow it. Gracie, talk some sense into her. She aims to ride to Buchan land. Alone, if need be—amidst the mercenaries. Tell her ‘tis mad!”
“Nay, Kyla,” Gracie cried out. “Please do not do it. I could not tolerate aught happening to you.”
There were tears in Gracie’s eyes, and Kyla rushed over to kiss her cheek. She’d chosen not to include her sister-in-law for this very reason. While she loved Gracie dearly, she’d known the other lass would not approve of her plan. “Rest easy. I’d not really go alone—I was carried away by the moment. But I must do something.” She cast a hopeful glance at Sorcha, who was more impetuous than Gracie, still hoping she might agree to help. Given her talent with a bow, she’d definitely be an asset.
Sorcha sighed. “I meant what I said, Kyla. ‘Tis too dangerous. The men in our clan are different from the ones you’d encounter on the road. There are men who take what they want, regardless of whether you’re willing, and I’ll not put any of us in a position to be kidnapped. Look at Jake’s wife! Poor Aline was kidnapped and kept against her will for years.” She visibly shuddered at the thought.
“Mayhap so, but we have so much to celebrate. You both had beautiful weddings, and my sire survived his wounds. Now we are all together. We should be happy; we should be celebrating. I won’t allow those louts to ruin all we’ve worked for because of greed and treachery…” Would they be agreeable if she told them more about her plan? She would only know if she tried. “I recall tales of Davina well,” she continued, “and I think she would help me.”
“What makes you believe Buchan’s daughter would help you?” Gracie asked, clearly surprised by the suggestion. “And even if she does, how could two women hope to stop a battle?”
“Mayhap women should become the peacemakers. I believe we could settle all sorts of foolishness in a rational way. Davina has softened. Do not forget that she helped Molly and Tormod catch MacNiven in the end. She loved him, but she realized he’d turned evil. If I could find a way to get to her, mayhap I can convince her to talk to her sire, to get him to see reason. If nothing else, she can tell me about what he intends to do. We’d be able to stop this nonsense if we knew more about his intentions.”
But a quick look at them told her that they both thought her plan was mad. “If you do not wish to assist me, I’ll find my own way,” she said quietly. “But I do promise I’ll not go alone.”
She headed for the door, struggling with disappointment, when Sorcha called out to her. “Molly and Tormod are heading that way. If you insist on traveling to Buchan land, at least go with them.” Sorcha pulled her into an embrace.
“Can you not see that I must do something?” Kyla asked, needing them to understand. “My mother has run this keep beautifully for years, and now her time is devoted to my ailing sire. This could worsen my sire’s condition…it could cause my mother to fall ill. ‘Tis too much for them. I must take some of their concerns on my shoulders.” She could not stand by and watch the people dearest to her, her clann, torn apart.
“Aye, I understand your concern, but your parents are stronger than you think,” Sorcha said.
Kyla rested her chin on Sorcha’s shoulders as tears trailed wetly down her cheeks. She and Gracie locked eyes, and her sister-in-law came closer.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” she said softly, running a hand down Kyla’s hair, “but I’ll not leave Grant land. Please don’t do aught without telling us. We can help you decide what is best.”
Kyla looked back and forth between her dear friends. “Will you promise not to tell my sire until I’m well off Grant land? I know he would never allow me to seek out Davina, but I need to try… If there’s any way I can stop this, I have to do it.”
Sorcha replied, “I’ll not tell unless something untoward happens, but then I’ll be forced to tell all. Before you decide on anything, we need to find out what is being decided in the solar. Come. We’ll return to the hall.”
“But who will tell us what they’ve discussed?” Gracie asked. “I’ll ask Jamie, but I’m not sure if he’ll tell me all.”
“I saw who went inside,” Sorcha said. “Jake and Magnus—” She nodded to Gracie, whose sister was married to Magnus, Jake’s second, “—my sire, Uncle Quade, Jamie, Finlay, and Connor.”
Connor. Kyla’s hope began to sprout wings. She and her younger brother were extremely close. He would help her find a way to Davina.
Sorcha frowned. “What is it? Your expression has changed.”
Kyla smiled. “Connor. He’s been left out of most everything, and he wishes to take an active role in protecting our clan. He’ll help me for certes.” She spun around and headed out the door.
Gracie called out from behind her. “But Connor has never been involved in any of the clan’s battles yet. How can he help you?”
Kyla raced down the passageway, lifting her skirts to give her speed, and hurried down the staircase to wait by the hearth. She’d catch Connor as soon as he came out. Gasping for breath, she did her best to calm her racing heart.
Her sire would rage if he knew what she was thinking, but she could not sit by while her wonderful, strong clan was pushed into another war. She’d find a way to fix things. She’d find a bloodless way to win them peace.
The door to the solar opened and she strolled over casually just as Gracie and Sorcha came hurrying down the stairs behind her. The men strolled past her, tension in their shoulders as they moved out to the lists. Only Quade and Logan stayed behind in the solar.
One of the warriors winked when he passed her, she knew she had another accomplice should she need him.
Finlay MacNicol, her brother Jamie’s second.
***
Finlay strode out the door and almost stopped in his tracks. Three lasses stood there waiting for someone, but only one drew his attention—the dark-haired beauty with bright blue eyes. When had Kyla Grant become so attractive? Each time he saw her, she was prettier, if that were possible. Something had changed in the way he saw Kyla after he escorted her to Cameron land to see her injured sire. At the time, Alex’s survival had not been a sure thing, and Kyla’s bravery had astonished Finlay. He’d learned to appreciate her as a person instead of Jamie’s wee sister.
He hurried to catch up with Jamie Grant, who’d already made his way out the door and down the steps. Alex and Logan had decided to send a group of warriors out to the Buchans to see if Glenn would speak to them. He’d allowed them in before, and if they could get inside the curtain wall, they’d learn more about the rumors traversing the Highlands. Upon their return, they’d scout the area around the Grants to see if they could locate Simon de La Porte and his men. Molly and Tormod would travel with the group, and they’d head to Edinburgh when the rest of the guards returned to Grant land.
Jamie had asked Finlay to join them—an honor befitting his role as the laird’s second in command.
“We leave on the morrow. Are you certain you’re willing to leave your mother?” Jamie asked.
Finlay nodded. “I’ll go because you need me. I am your second, if you’ve forgotten.”
“If her time is near, you are to remain behind,” Jamie said, “and that’s an order. You’ll not forgive yourself if she passes while you’re gone. Aye, and I see that look on your face. Save your sharp tongue for another time.”
His friend knew him too well. Humor had always been his way of dealing with life’s challenges. In truth, he was conflicted about leaving at such a time.
“Check on her and meet me in the lists,” Jamie continued. “You can assist Jake and me in choosing our guards.”
Finlay nodded and headed toward his family cottage, tucked inside the bailey. His heart ached each time he stepped through the door. He and his brother Fergus had been assigned to Loki Grant, but they’d returned to the main Grant castle because their dear mother, Inga, had taken ill.
Several healers had told them there was naught she could do. His mother had been ill for a while now, and they all knew her time was coming soon.
Finlay opened the door with a sigh, knowing what he would find. Voices carried through the stone walls, telling him they had company, something he was not fond of because visitors tired his mother out.
This time was different. Lady Brenna and Lady Jennie, Alex Grant’s sisters, both talented healers, were at Inga’s bedside in his parents’ chamber. Lady Brenna was the one who’d told them his mother had a woman’s growth inside her belly that they could not stop. His mother had deteriorated quite a bit since then.
He stood in the doorway to the chamber. “Greetings, Lady Brenna, Lady Jennie.” He nodded to each of the healers. His sire was not far from his mother’s bedside, as usual. “Papa, could I speak to you outside?”
Nicol turned to him. “I’ll be right there. I’m going to change your mother’s position so she rests better.”
“Papa, I’ll do it.” He did not bend on this. True, his sire was still a strong guard, but his lower back troubled him at times. Finlay moved to his mother’s side, bent his knees, and scooped her up with ease. She’d lost so much weight that it saddened him. “Mama, tell me which way you’d like to settle.”
A weak, raspy voice answered him. “I’ll answer if you speak to your sire here. No secrets, if you remember, Finlay. Please?”
“All right, Mama,” he said. As usual, he could never refuse his mother. A sweeter woman had never walked the Highlands. He and Fergus were only a year apart and his mother had never had another child, much to her dismay. She’d begged for a daughter, but the good Lord had never blessed her with one. However, she was not one to complain.
Brenna and Jennie stepped back and said, “We shall stop by later.” Lady Brenna glanced at his sire and said, “Nicol, if you need us, please call. We’ll be here as quickly as we can. You have more of the primrose root to help her sleep?”
“Aye, many thanks to you both.” He escorted the two women to the door.
Finlay reached down and carefully smoothed his mother’s hair. “I’ll wait until Papa returns and tell you my thoughts. Now, which direction?”
“On my left side, please.” Once he had her comfortable, he sat down on a nearby stool.
His mother took his hand. “I understand what goes on in your heart, you know. You are my son. Papa has told me of the situation in the Highlands. ‘Tis your duty to go.”
“Mama, ‘tis also my duty to stay at your side when your time is near.” His mother’s skin had taken on a yellow hue, which he did not take for a good sign. “I could stay and take you to the waterfall again. You know how you love the heather in the fields nearby and the other wildflowers.”
He felt his sire’s presence behind him just as his mother attempted to lift her hand to cup his cheek. “Finlay, I’d prefer to stay inside. We are blessed that your sire was such a good friend to the Grants, and they gave us this cottage inside the bailey. I care not to go anywhere that could risk…” She paused to gain the strength to continue. Her hand went to her chest before it fell back on the pallet. A great, rattling cough issued from her chest, and Finlay helped her sit and held her goblet of water to her lips.
How he hated to see her in such a condition. He clung to the memories of his childhood—his mother taking them to the loch for a swim or cooking the best stew in the Highlands at their hearth. That was how he wished to remember her.
“I’ll not go outside again. Go…do what you must. Fergus will stay if he has not been chosen to join you. And if I am not here when you return, do not suffer any guilt. I am ready. You know I love you, and I’ll always watch over you.”
Her eyes closed for a scant moment. In a broken voice, she whispered, “Please, just a moment to rest my eyes.”
Finlay leaned in to kiss her cheek and then covered her up with a plaid. She’d fought so hard and continued with her chores at home for so long. Now he almost prayed for her time to come soon. Watching her endure the pain was too much for all of them. He could see how much it had worn on his father.
He and his sire exchanged a look before leaving the cottage together. The healers awaited them. “What is it?”
“She’ll not last much longer, I’m afraid,” Lady Brenna said as she wrapped an arm around Finlay’s shoulder. “It would be best for you to stay.”
Finlay wanted as much information as possible. “How long is not much longer?”
Lady Jennie shrugged. “Could be a day, but probably less than a sennight. Her belly continues to grow from what’s inside her, and it will take her last breath eventually. I’m so sorry.”
The healers hugged him and his sire and then took their leave. Finlay stared at his sire for a long moment. “Jamie asked me to go, but he said only if Mama is well enough. What do you think, Papa?”
His brother Fergus came along the path. After greeting them, he said, “Och. I know you were chosen for the scouting mission, Finlay, but you need to stay here. I overheard most of your conversation with the healers.”
Finlay nodded at his brother. “Agreed.” Then he turned to his father, clasping his shoulder, and said, “I’ll stay, Papa.”
“Many thanks,” Nicol said. “I could use your support when the time comes. But if aught changes, you both may need to leave. You can skip a scouting mission, but not a battle.”
He sighed and moved back inside to grab a flagon of ale before he made his way to the lists. His mother’s voice carried to him. “Finlay?”
He hurried to her side. “Aye, Mama?”
“You must go.”
He knelt next to her bed. “Mama, I’m going to stay here with you and Papa and Fergus. ‘Tis only a scouting mission.”
“Nay, you do not understand.” She reached for his hand, tears misting her eyes. “Listen to me. Go. You must join them.”
“But why, Mama? I don’t understand.” He tucked the blanket around her shoulders and reached for another to calm her shivering.
“Have I not taught you the importance of honoring a dying person’s final request? Well, this is your mother’s. I wish for you to go on this journey. ‘Tis a journey that will affect your life more than any other.”
“Final request?” Aye, everyone knew a dying person’s final request was to be heeded if at all possible. However, the rest of his clan believed he belonged here by her side. “And what do you mean by affect my life?”
“Please, Finlay. I cannot explain, but don’t tell your brother. You know he’d feel slighted if he knew my final wish was for you.” She paused to gather air to speak. “Just do as your mama asks. Do not listen to the others. They know not what I know.” She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep. How he wished she would explain her reasoning, but it did not matter.
He would honor his mother’s final request, no matter what anyone else said.
He had to go on this mission.