Honor of a Scottish Warrior

by Sky Purington

  “Och, nay,” Rònan bit back, throwing short words over his shoulder as he strode down the hallway. “Ye didnae hear correctly. I wouldnae make an oath to someone I dinnae know.”

  Frustrated, Niall started to pursue but Nicole shook her head. “Wait.”

  So he did. She ran upstairs then returned with his tunic. “If we’re gonna get to the heart of this, get dressed.”

  “Many thanks, my lass,” he muttered and pulled on his tunic. Only when he started wrapping his plaid correctly did he realize she had not corrected him. Maybe it was because she was lacing up her own boots and too distracted.

  But he knew better.

  They had come far together and though the bloody stone at the heart of her ring didn’t match his eye color, neither of them much cared. Like him, she had her own mind and would not be swayed by Fate or anybody else telling them who they should love.

  To hell with destiny and magic.

  When their eyes met, he knew they were a team.

  Dagger and shield in hand, she stood. “We need to stick close to Rònan.”

  “Aye.” He brushed his lips over hers then got moving. “Let’s go.”

  By the time they joined Rònan in the great hall, Iosbail, Alexander, and Malcolm were already there.

  Iosbail’s eyes went to Nicole’s blade. “’Tis a fine dagger ye have there, lass.”

  Nicole grinned and nodded. “Thanks.” She winked. “In more ways than one.” Then she looked around. “Where’s Alan?”

  “The Stewart has returned home.” Iosbail gave her a pointed look. “With far more hope in his heart than when he came thanks to ye.” The older woman shrugged. “But I suppose a wee bit o’ hope never hurt anyone.”

  Niall was surprised to see Alexander sitting before the fire with a fur wrapped around his shoulders. Coughs wracked him and he shivered. Only then did he understand why Bryson had told his father the day before that he would have brought their guests to Alexander. The King was unwell. He suspected it had taken a tremendous amount of magic to seem so fit before.

  When Bryson entered, Iosbail nodded. “’Tis almost time then.” Her eyes went to Niall. “Ye and yers sit at a table whilst I say my goodbyes.”

  Niall, Nicole, and his cousin exchanged frowns as they sat and received mugs of mead. Why was she saying goodbye? Malcolm stood beside the hearth with his head bent. Bryson sat beside his father and rested his hand on his shoulder. Iosbail knelt at the King’s feet and took his hand as her eyes met his. “How fare ye, my love?”

  When another cough wracked him, she put a hand to his chest and shook her head. He stopped coughing and sighed in apparent relief. “Better when yer near, my lass,” he murmured. “Always better.”

  Only then, as Iosbail’s eyes grew moist, did Niall realize what was happening.

  King Alexander was dying.

  Having figured it out as well, Rònan lowered his head in respect. When Niall’s eyes met Nicole’s, he knew she understood too.

  “’Twas a good life we’ve lived together such as it was, aye, me King?” Iosbail murmured and cupped Alexander’s cheek.

  “Aye,” he said weakly. “I still remember the day ye showed up at this verra castle set to murder me.”

  “Aye, but ‘twas lucky ye were that I wed ye instead.”

  “Forced into it ye were,” Alexander reminded.

  “As were ye.” A wobbly smile came to her lips. “But in the end ‘twas the verra best thing that could’ve happened.”

  “Aye.” He took his son’s hand and met his eyes. “Ye’ve made yer Ma and me verra proud, lad. This is all yours now. Take good care of the Sinclairs, ye ken?”

  “Aye, Da.” Emotion was obvious in Bryson’s voice. “I love ye.”

  “And I ye.” Alexander’s eyes swung back to Iosbail and it was clear he was growing weary, that the end was near. “I love ye too, my lass.”

  “Our love is eternal.” A tear escaped as she once more cupped his cheek. “Until we meet again, aye?”

  “Aye,” he whispered as his eyes slid shut and he leaned his cheek into her touch.

  The room grew very, very quiet as King Alexander drew his last breath then passed away peacefully. Iosbail let his head rest back and put her head on his lap. Her tears were quiet as several minutes went by and she said goodbye to her love.

  When she was ready, Bryson helped her stand. Chin set, Iosbail cupped her son’s cheeks and eyed him for a long moment. “Ye’ve been a good lad and I love ye something fierce. Now do right by me and yer Da, aye?”

  Shocked, Niall realized she was saying goodbye to Bryson as well.

  “Aye, Ma.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Always.”

  They embraced for several long moments before Iosbail pulled back, wiped away her tears and stood up straighter. She eyed Bryson long and hard before she nodded then turned from him. Surprisingly strong considering everything, Iosbail’s eyes locked on them. “All right, ‘tis time to send ye on yer way. Bryson hasnae the magic to defend against what seeks ye.”

  Iosbail tossed them furs and nodded that they follow her. The snow had lessened some, but it seemed the wind had increased. Cold and driving, the visibility was poor as she led them to the armory. As well stocked as the MacLomains, the Sinclairs had room upon room full of weaponry.

  “Take whatever ye like,” Iosbail said as she went into another room. She reappeared within moments and headed Niall’s way. “I believe this is yers, Highlander.”

  “My favorite sword,” he exclaimed and nodded his thanks as he took it. He thought it lost when he fought on the shore at the mountain. “How did ye get this?”

  “It doesnae matter.” Her eyes stayed with his. “’Tis a fine blade Colin MacLeod gave ye. One that did verra powerful things at one point in time. Now, because of Adlin and I and even Alan Stewart’s magic, ‘twill help ye and yer cousins through all that lies ahead.”

  “Will it then?” Niall said softly. “Why the Stewart’s?”

  Sadness flickered in Iosbail’s eyes. “Because ‘tis his blood that seeks to do ye harm so ‘tis only right that his magic help fight it. ‘Twill make it more powerful.”

  Niall nodded. Though thankful for the Stewart’s help, it saddened him that Alan helped strengthen a blade that could very well kill his offspring.

  “When the time comes ye must give it to Rònan.” Iosbail’s eyes went to his cousin. “Then the time will come that ye must give it to Darach, aye?”

  “Aye,” Rònan said and eyed the blade with curiosity.

  Niall had always been sort of surprised that Colin had given him this sword considering it played such a big part in defeating Keir Hamilton so long ago. But he assumed it was because Niall had such a longing for it whenever he visited.

  He still recalled the day his uncle had gifted it to him. Interestingly enough it had been the Christmastide of his thirteenth winter and he thought himself in love for the first time. Back in the days before he avoided love to spite Malcolm of course.

  Niall had wanted to spar with it that day so that he might impress the lass. He remembered the odd look Colin had given him in the MacLeod armory. The stern tone of his voice when he said, “So ye think that blade can win ye love, aye, lad?”

  “I do,” Niall said.

  “’Tis always hard to know if a blade can win ye such a prize.” Colin removed it from the wall and eyed Niall. “Mayhap when used under the right circumstances. But ‘tis important that when love comes that ye willnae run from it but welcome such a gift. That ye will commit to it truly and with all yer heart.”

  “I will,” Niall promised, convinced that the lass he had designs on was as good as his anyway.

  Colin again eyed him for a long moment. Apparently he saw whatever he needed because he handed Niall the blade and nodded. “Then this is yers. Might ye care for it well.”

  Niall had never been so happy. Though he and the lass had lain together, love was never theirs. Regardless, the blade was and had remained so all these years. Yet a
s it turned out the sword had not won him love. He glanced at Nicole. That had happened all on its own. So if he had to part with the blade to keep his brethren safe, he would do so willingly.

  “Many thanks for its safe return,” Niall said to Iosbail. “I will see it given to Rònan when ‘tis time.”

  Niall wondered how he would know when that moment arrived but figured the blade’s magic would tell him. Or so he hoped.

  Iosbail nodded then headed out of the armory. “’Tis almost time to leave. Niall, ye and yer Da pick out a few more daggers then join us in the stables.”

  When he urged Nicole to stay, she shook her head and squeezed his hand. “I think I’m safe enough with Iosbail and Rònan. See you in a few minutes.”

  Her eyes went to Malcolm and she offered a small smile before she left.

  Niall frowned as he headed into a room full of daggers. He knew she wanted him to speak with his father. Likely Iosbail did as well. Malcolm was already strapping several blades to his body as Niall pondered which ones to choose.

  “’Tis a good selection this,” Niall murmured.

  “Aye,” Malcolm said.

  Though he didn’t look his father’s way, he sensed that Malcolm eyed him. And while tempted to keep to small talk, he finally asked what had been weighing on his mind. Or at least hinted toward it.

  “I didnae see ye yesterday,” Niall said. “Why are ye here?”

  “Because yer my son and I intended to travel on this journey with ye as much as possible,” Malcolm said. “Ye might be a lad full grown, but that doesnae mean I dinnae want to protect ye any less than I did when ye were a wee one.”

  “I can protect myself,” he mumbled while testing the weight of a blade. Despite how determined he was to remain silent, Nicole’s words from the previous night kept flickering through his mind. “I can also protect others quite well and make good decisions despite what ye might think.”

  “I have long known that ye can make good decisions, Son,” Malcolm said softly. “And whilst I might not have realized it at the time, I see ye made a good one when ye gave Logan the lairdship. The two of ye in yer current positions have worked well together and made our MacLomains strong indeed.”

  Niall had not expected that. He had expected a fight.

  “Furthermore,” Malcolm continued. “Every decision ye have made since, everything ye have done, has made me verra proud.”

  Baffled, Niall’s eyes went to his father. “I dinnae ken yer change of heart.”

  “My change of heart?” Malcolm shook his head and frowned. “Ye havenae seen inside my heart for a long time, lad. Not since Logan became Laird and I didnae support yer decision as I should have. After that, ye turned from me and did what ye would.”

  Niall narrowed his eyes as he strapped on a few daggers. “Mayhap I wouldnae have if ye’d said ye’d forgiven me for turning away the position of chieftain.”

  “I tried several times but ye made a habit of becoming scarce,” Malcolm said. “Either leading yer men or visiting the Hamilton and MacLeod castles. Ye might not realize it, but ye sit still about as well as yer cousin, Darach.” His father sighed. “And ye tend to hold on to bitterness as well as I did in my youth.”

  “Bitterness,” Niall murmured, trying to swallow the idea that his Da might have been attempting to reach out to him all this time. That he might have been avoiding such a thing without realizing it. Ready to take Nicole’s advice, he met his father's eyes. “Did ye feel as if I rejected ye when I rejected becoming laird?”

  Their eyes held for several long moments before Malcolm finally murmured, “Aye, ‘twas exactly how I felt. ‘Twas foolish that.”

  “Bloody hell,” Niall whispered and shook his head. “Aye, ‘twas.” He kept frowning. “Why did ye not seek me out when ye arrived here? ‘Twas truly dangerous entering the Celtic Otherworld.”

  “I might ask the same of ye, Son. Ye knew I had arrived.” Malcolm cocked his head. “But then it has become normal to evade me, aye?” Before Niall could say anything, his Da continued. “I didnae seek ye out because I didnae want to upset ye whilst ye were busy discovering love. All those long days ye spent in the Mother Oak trying to find yer lass were not only verra difficult for ye but for me and yer Ma. It has always been our greatest hope that ye’d find the sort of love she and I share. A true connection.”

  “I barely saw ye all that time,” Niall said.

  “Ye barely saw beyond yer need to save her and though ‘twas partly because of yer honor to keep her safe ‘twas mostly because ye love her so fiercely. Ye only came from that tree to eat and sleep,” Malcolm said. “But know that when ye did I was never far off. I kept an eye on ye always.”

  Niall’s brows drew together as the stark truth dawned on him. “I trained my whole life to protect the wee Bruce but instead of staying by his side I left him behind to save the lass.”

  “A lass he wanted saved as much as the rest of us,” Malcolm reminded. “And ye must never forget, by saving her ye also saved the future King. For if the enemy gets their hands on just one of those rings, there will be graver trouble than there already is.”

  “’Twas the glow inside the stone that kept the beast at bay,” Niall murmured.

  “Aye, for now,” Malcolm said. “It doesnae like the love attached to it and Nicole’s ring seems to be developing just such a spark.” His father’s eyes never left Niall's. “So ye see, though ye thought ye abandoned the wee King, ye did right by him by pursuing love. By saving it so to speak.”

  Niall kept eying his father and felt something shift. Or better yet fall away. A sense of…defensiveness? Of being on edge without realizing it. Nicole was right yet again. It had become habit to steer clear of his father. To not bother with confronting him about anything because it would do no good. Malcolm saw things one way. He saw them another. But now he realized that at the heart of them, they really weren't all that different and perhaps saw things pretty much the same way.

  Malcolm clasped Niall’s shoulders. “I am sorry for being upset with ye for not choosing to become Laird. More than that, I’m sorry that I didnae sit yer arse down years ago and tell ye I felt as much. Though I sought ye out to simply be around ye, it seems in our own way we avoided one another equally.”

  Niall scowled, but it wasn’t because he was frustrated with Malcolm. No, it was because he should have confronted his father long before this. “And I’m sorry I didnae talk with ye sooner, Da. ‘Twould of mayhap made life much easier for us both.”

  “Though ‘twas always more my place to make sure this conversation happened ‘tis good that ye are saying what yer saying now. That we’re…”

  When Malcolm broke off, emotional, Niall nodded. “None of it matters because we’re saying what’s in our hearts now, aye, Da?”

  “Aye,” Malcolm whispered and pulled Niall into an embrace. “And we always will from this point forward.”

  “Aye,” Niall whispered and held him just as tightly.

  “I love ye, Son.”

  “I love ye too, Da.”

  When Malcolm finally stepped away, his eyes were moist. Niall supposed his must be too.

  “Come, lad. 'Tis time to join the others.”

  Niall nodded and followed.

  By the time they made it to the stables they were covered in snow. Nicole stood in Vika’s stall. Her gaze met Niall’s when he entered. She didn’t need to search his eyes long to see what she hoped for. With a small smile, she hugged him and whispered, “I’m glad we both faced what we needed to.”

  “Aye.” He brushed his lips over hers. “We did, lass.”

  Iosbail appeared at the stall door. “Ye and yer lass must ride Vika together.”

  “Aye, I’ll get her saddled,” Niall said. Nicole followed Rònan when he gestured at her.

  “How fare ye, friend?” Niall said into Vika’s mind.

  “Good, lad. Happy to see ye and yer lass well.”

  “As well as we can be considering the good King has passed on.”


  “Aye, ‘tis sad that. But such an end often leads to many beginnings.”

  “What do you mean?”

  But Vika went silent as Nicole exclaimed from further down in the stables. “Oh my God, what the heck is Eara doing here?”

  Niall frowned as he joined the rest of them. Sure as heck, the light horse with a pale blond mane and tail that had been at the Colonial in New Hampshire was here.

  Iosbail shrugged, completely evasive. “I dinnae know, lass.” Her wise eyes went to Rònan. “But she is yours to ride.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  WHILE NICOLE WAS certainly upset that Eara was here when she was fairly certain the horse was somehow connected with Jackie, she was more concerned about Iosbail. She couldn’t imagine the pain the woman was suffering considering she had just lost her husband. More than that, she got the distinct feeling that Iosbail had just said goodbye to her son for the final time as well. But much like Nicole, Iosbail kept her feelings well hidden. Or should she say her deepest feelings. Because hell if they both didn’t let the whole world know what their surface feelings were.

  The snow had lessened some by the time they left the stables. Malcolm and Iosbail rode their own mounts. Rònan was on Eara and Niall and Nicole on Vika. She found it interesting that Eara was the largest of the horses considering Rònan was the largest of the men. His muscular build met Niall’s, but he still had his cousin by a few inches. Ironically enough, Jackie was the tallest of her friends so Nicole had to wonder.

  No, that was wrong. She didn’t wonder at all.

  Deep down she knew Eara was Jackie’s.

  And Jackie, of course, was the woman Rònan had sworn an oath to.

  But hell were they a miss-matched pair if ever one existed. Rònan was as boisterous and rowdy as Nicole. Jackie? The polar opposite. They might make a physically striking couple, but it was impossible to see them ever connecting. Jackie preferred quiet, soft-spoken academic men. She cared little for looks but valued intelligence above all else. Not to say Rònan wasn’t intelligent. He was. But soft-spoken? Quiet? Nicole shook her head. God help them both if they were heading in each other’s direction.