The McLeod started to speak, but the Mackenzie held up his hand to silence him. “Tis what I expected. My wife brought to me a suggestion that may be a way to help gain peace between yer clans.”
A trickle of apprehension traveled down Tristan’s spine. And by the way the McLeod stiffened and his eyes narrowed, the man didn’t know what the Mackenzie was about to say either.
“Yer daughter is here to seek a husband,” the Mackenzie said to McLeod who nodded and seemed to relax, but frowned. “What has that to do with…” He left the sentence hanging, his wide eyes going to Tristan.
When Ruari sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing, Tristan placed a hand on his cousin’s forearm to ensure he didn’t say something inappropriate.
Tristan shook his head. Truce in the balance or not, he was not about to marry a McLeod, probably a spoiled girl, like the one from the night before. “I am not here to find a wife. I am here to represent my brother.”
As if he’d not spoken, the Mackenzie continued. “A marriage between the clans would suit everyone’s purposes.”
Not to be dissuaded, Tristan groaned. “How exactly would it benefit my clan?” he said between clenched teeth.
“Ye would be in good standing with mine,” Laird Mackenzie replied. “And…ye would gain an alliance with the McLeods, the Burns’ and, of course, the Robertsons.”
None of it mattered to his clan. Tristan, however, was not about to argue with the Mackenzie. “As this is an unexpected request, I must send a messenger to my brother.”
The McLeod leaned forward, hands flat on the table surface. “I do not wish to use my daughter as a pawn. Although I did come seeking a husband for her, I would have preferred to join with yer clan, not the Ross’.”
The Mackenzie nodded. “Tis understandable. However, tis imperative that I protect my clan and alliances and this is a way for ye to be part of it.”
There would be no arguing with the powerful man, but Tristan hoped that by gaining time, he could come up with a way not to have to marry. He’d not considered marriage. Although many times in bed one lass or another had intrigued him, it wasn’t until lately that any woman truly piqued his interest.
The healer, Merida, would be the only woman he’d even consider. She was probably the daughter of one of the visiting clans. Tristan wondered which. Perhaps it was time to find out.
“Can we wait until I get word from my brother before I reply?” Tristan asked, expecting the Mackenzie to rebuff his request.
As predicted, the man pressed his lips together in disapproval. “Ye may let him know and invite him to be present for the marriage ceremony.” The man rose to his full height, which was not as tall as Tristan. Nonetheless, he exuded power.
“Let me make things clear,” the Mackenzie said as he looked to Tristan and then to the McLeod. “I strongly suggest a marriage between Tristan Ross and yer daughter. Either both of ye do as I say or talks are over and ye both will be considered my enemies.”
The words hung in the thick air.
First to respond, the McLeod nodded and spoke in a flat tone. “I will abide by yer wishes, Laird. My daughter will be prepared.”
The Mackenzie’s cool gaze slid to Tristan.
He let out a breath. “Very well. Ye have my word, I will marry the McLeod’s daughter.” Tristan met the McLeod’s gaze. The man had been friendly with his father. They had hunted and competed against one another during their youths. Admittedly, Tristan liked the McLeod and had grown to respect him over the years. It was the actions of Ethan McLeod that had made them enemies.
“I vow to be a good husband to yer daughter.”
He tried to remember the McLeod’s daughter. The only time he’d seen her, it was perhaps ten years earlier. The chit had been a plain, red-haired, freckle-faced lass that often trailed after them on a huge horse. Her skinny legs pressed tightly against the animal formed a comical sight.
He groaned inwardly at the memory. It would take a miracle for her to have transformed into anything lovely.
“Thank ye,” the McLeod replied.
Immediately, the Mackenzie’s countenance changed and a broad grin formed. “Good,” he exclaimed and clapped his hands together. “Let us toast. Allow three days for preparations.”
After several more minutes of listening to what all had to be done, Tristan and Ruari walked out to the courtyard.
They joined the guards who were relaxing under some trees. He wasn’t sure what to think of the events transpiring. Things were out of his control.
Upon seeing him, a guard got to his feet. “Can we leave now?” His eyes narrowed. “Why the glum faces?”
“I must send one of ye to get an urgent message to my brother.” Tristan looked around to ensure they were out of earshot. He motioned to the guards to form a circle. “The Mackenzie wishes me to marry the McLeod’s daughter.”
Every set of eyes rounded. Ruari spit on the ground. “How did this come to be?”
“The grumbling of the lesser clans supposedly.” Tristan waved a hand impatiently. “I believe it is the Mackenzie proving how strong he is against everyone. I do not believe he cares one way or another about the small clans. Tis a show of power, nothing else.”
“Lower yer voice,” Ruari whispered, looking past him. “We do not need more trouble.”
When he released a breath, it was as if Tristan had been holding it for too long. He looked over his shoulder and noticed the McLeod’s guards were studying them with curiosity. “They must have heard,” he muttered.
“How is this going to work?” Ruari asked. “We cannot be joined with them. What about Ethan?”
“Have no doubt,” Tristan hissed into his cousin’s ear. “That coward will die. Neither truce nor marriage will keep him safe. I told them both in the room that we would not stop seeking our vengeance.”
One of the guards cleared his throat, the lanky young guard named Gavin. He often served as scout or messenger because of his steed’s speed. “I will go back. What would ye like me to say?”
“Tell my brother that I am being directed to marry the McLeod’s daughter and not given a choice by the Mackenzie. It is set to happen in three days. Tell him the McLeod has agreed and so have I.”
The young man nodded. “I’ll go now. Do not worry, I will be there by morning.”
“Be with care,” Tristan said, knowing Gavin sometimes pushed himself too far. “Do not return. Allow someone else to take yer place.”
There wasn’t much to do, so Tristan decided to relax on his cot for a few hours and ignore the goings-on. He needed time to process what had occurred and get used to the idea that in three days he would be a married man.
“Will ye bring her to the keep? Do ye think they will insist on visiting her?” Ruari walked behind him to the rooms beside the stables.
Tristan gave up on the idea of time alone when the usually quiet Ruari sat on the next bed and stared at him as if expecting some sort of interesting reaction. “At least she’s comely,” he remarked in a quiet voice.
“Who?” Tristan raked his fingers down his face. “Whom do ye speak of?”
“The McLeod’s daughter. She’s quite lovely.”
Tristan wasn’t sure he was ready to hear more about the woman he was to be tied to. However, he was curious. “Have ye met her?”
“Tristan Ross. My laird wants to speak to ye alone,” said a guard standing at the doorway.
“God’s foot, what now?” Tristan grumbled to no one in particular and stood.
The Mackenzie was on the far side, away from the center of the courtyard, watching his guardsmen spar. Tristan wanted to roll his eyes. If the man spent more time practicing than just watching swordplay, perhaps he’d have less time to manipulate other people’s lives.
“Laird,” Tristan said, meeting the Mackenzie’s gaze before looking to a pair of huge warriors that seemed to be out for blood.
The Mackenzie motioned to the men who fought. “Seems one of them is not too keen on the other h
aving slept with his wife.”
When one of the warriors sliced across, cutting the arm of his opponent, the Mackenzie turned away as if bored. “An alliance between our clans would bring yers power. No one would dare make an attempt on yer brother’s life.”
“Do ye mean an alliance or my clan falling under yer control?” Tristan replied, ensuring to keep his tone even. “We are in alliance with the Sutherland and the Munro.” He wanted to add that, together, they were as large as Clan Mackenzie.
“Alliances rise and fall. However, by this marriage, yer clan will gain the McLeod’s alliance.”
Tristan was no fool and kept his mouth shut. Whatever the Mackenzie wanted to say, it was best to hear it.
“The McLeod has not called upon the larger McLeods. Did ye ever wonder why?”
“It’s not for me to know. Our qualm is with Ethan McLeod.”
A loud growl sounded as one of the fighters thrust his sword into the side of the other. The man screamed, but found the strength to strike back, sending his opponent stumbling backward.
Tristan glanced past the fighters to the guards who watched. At this point, it was hard to tell if they took sides.
When both fighters stalled, attempting to catch their breaths, the Mackenzie signaled for guards to intervene and break up the sword match. At this point, Tristan wondered if either man would survive their wounds. Both bled profusely, one falling flat on his face into the ground.
“Ye may have lost two seasoned warriors,” Tristan said as the men were dragged way.
“I lost them when they began this feud. They would have probably turned against each other anyway.”
The lack of care and compassion in the Mackenzie’s countenance reminded him of his own brother. Malcolm never wavered, not in battle and not when seeing his men die. It was as if Malcolm’s soul left his body the day their father died.
Now that he was married to a woman named Elspeth, he did seem to have regained some of his humanity. And yet, he would never be the same Malcolm as before.
Tristan couldn’t help but wonder if his own marriage would change him.
He cared little for his enemies. Whether they were cut down, drowned or hanged, no option would bother Tristan in the least. War hardened a man. Like a thief in the night, it stole any desire to help others, or to be any kind of savior.
Had the Mackenzie expected him to intervene, to ask the fight to be stopped? Tristan hadn’t considered asking for intervention. If the warriors ended up dead, it was because they chose to fight of their own accord.
The Mackenzie hesitated, his calculating gaze moving over Tristan. “I heard ye were close to death. Now ye are to be married to a lovely lass. Makes one wonder, does it not?”
“Exactly what?” Tristan had to admit he’d not considered the reason for fate bringing him to where he stood now. “Tis not my wish to be married right now. I wish to avenge my father’s death. However, I do realize tis best for my clan that the war with the McLeod ceases.”
“But ye will continue to hunt down his son.” The Mackenzie made the statement matter-of-factly. “He is here.”
Tristan’s eyes widened. “Here?” he repeated, unsure what to do next. “Where?”
The Mackenzie shrugged. “Probably being sent away. If it were my son, I would not have allowed him to be here in the first place.”
“It matters not,” Tristan spat out, his gaze scanning the entire area. “He will not live much longer.”
“Killing the McLeod’s son here would bring consequences for yer clan. I will not stand idly by and allow my people to be in danger.”
Since when. Tristan bit down with force to keep from uttering the words.
“I will marry the lass if ye insist on it. I have given my word. However, be clear, Laird, this will not make my clan friends of the McLeod.”
“Just family,” the Mackenzie replied with a chuckle. “Sometimes that can be worse I suppose.”
Tristan stopped the man before he could walk away. “Why did the McLeod not call upon the larger clan for help?”
“Because his son has made enemies of them as well. I believe he maimed a cousin, the first born of the McLeods of the east, during sword practice.”
Chapter Eight
Clyde McLeod rushed into the dim chamber and directly to the bed. He pulled back the bedding that covered two nude people.
“Get out,” he hissed to a young woman who gasped and hurried from the bed. He didn’t wait for her to finish dressing, but took her by the arm and pulled her to the door. “Finish dressing in the hallway.” He shoved her outside and closed the door on the startled woman.
Unlike the woman, the young man in bed sat up, his back on the pillows and gave Clyde a bored look. “What are ye doing, Father? Ye directed me to not leave the chamber and now ye take my company?”
Anger surged at how nothing concerned Ethan. If he feared death, it was not evident. It was almost as if he’d lost any care or perhaps he’d never had it to begin with.
“Ye must leave at once.”
“Pray tell, why?” Ethan finally slid from the bed, wrapped a tartan around his waist and went to the small window. “Is there something happening ye wish me to not know about?”
Although rash and without thought, Ethan was not stupid. His keen eyes met his father’s. “What have ye done now?”
In two steps, Clyde was nose to nose with his youngest. “Tis what ye did that I must continue to contend with. Yer actions have cost us much again. Now we lose yer sister to the scheming of the Mackenzie.”
“It is time for her to be married off. Best that we acquire something for it. I do not see why it upsets ye.”
Knowing it was best that Ethan not know exactly who Merida was to marry, Clyde huffed and turned away. “Get dressed and prepare to leave. Go back to our home and gather guards to check our northern borders.”
Ethan looked back out the window. “Sending me away will not keep me from finding out what happens.” He turned back to this father. “I do not care one way or another, Father. If Merida marries, if ye send people to war without me, it matters naught to me.”
When Clyde placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, the younger man frowned. “Ethan, is there anything ye do care about? Do ye ever wish for anything?”
“Nay, tis all futile. Life is not worth more than the moment. A tryst with a woman brings temporary pleasure. Eating a tasty food morsel the same. However, nothing brings greater pleasure than control over another human. That moment when ye can be the one to decide whether they live or die.”
“Pleasure is not the same thing as happiness, nor is it joy. What ye speak of are all temporary.” Clyde studied Ethan for a long moment.
“Ye should remain at our watch post to the north. It would avoid more trouble for our clan. Do something for the good of the clan for a change, Ethan.”
Ethan shrugged from under his father’s hand and stalked to the bed. “I will leave with haste, ensuring not to be seen.”
“Go north and stay there.”
His face twisted in anger, Ethan closed the distance between them until they were nose to nose. “Do not command me. Ye have no right. Never once have ye cared about what I say or do. Why start now?”
“That is not true,” Clyde replied, his jaw tense. “Ye just refused any kind of caring. I don’t understand ye. But know this Ethan, my son or not, I will not stand for ye to bring more death to the clan.”
Ethan took a step back, his expression murderous. “I will do as I please.”
For a long moment, Clyde studied his son. How was this young man birthed from the same two parents and was so very different than the fair and just Alec, or the kind and caring Merida?
“If ye do, do not expect our clan to protect ye.”
Ethan snorted. “Ye have no choice.”
“Do not push me on this, Son.”
When Ethan stalked to the side of the room and lifted up his burlap bag, it was clear the conversation was over. “Await until ye are
informed it is clear before leaving.”
*
The next evening at last meal, Merida joined her mother at a table near the front of the great room. The meal was simple; cheeses, roasted goat meat and fresh bread. Bowls of savory broth with bits of root vegetables were served as well.
The room had been cleaned, fresh rushes spread and although it remained a bit chilly, there were no fires in the hearth. Merida was glad for her shawl and was about to complain about the cool room when she spotted lads hurrying to both hearths with armfuls of chopped wood.
“I think Lady Mackenzie expected a warmer evening,” her mother remarked.
Merida nodded and giggled. “The day is warmer than usual, however, tis always a bit colder indoors.”
When her father descended the stairs and entered the great room, Merida sensed he was not at ease. By the way her mother studied him, she too noticed something about his countenance that seemed different.
“He is worried about things and the meeting with the Mackenzie may have not gone well.” Her mother smiled when he joined them and lowered to sit. “Do ye need something, Husband?” She motioned for a servant to bring him drink.
The girl poured ale into a cup and placed it before Merida’s father. “I will bring a platter with meats and cheese,” she announced before turning to fill another man’s cup.
“I must speak to ye both. Tis of utmost importance.”
Merida looked around the room, unsure what to think. There didn’t seem to be anything afoot. “Where is Ethan?”
“He’s returning home. I have tasked him with ensuring our borders are well secured. Tis time to place guards at the posts.”
Her mother leaned close to her father. “Is something dangerous about to happen?”
It was endearing when her father covered her mother’s hand. “Nay, do not worry yerself. But with spring here, it means men are out seeking easy prey of unprotected borders and people.”
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