“The harvest is not done, so it makes little sense for anyone to burn fields,” Keithen said. “We should go see about it.” He turned to Broden and another guard who rode behind them. “Return and inform my father that Ewan and I are going into Mackenzie lands to investigate what is going on with the distant smoke. Do not tell anyone else.”
The men did as they were told and rode off.
Urging their horses to a gallop, they rode for several hours before stopping at the site of Mackenzie Keep under siege.
“Who is attacking?” Ewan asked and narrowed his eyes to get a better look. “I do not see any colors displayed.”
Gallant, Keithen’s horse, pawed the ground. The animal sensed war and expected they’d be joining.
“It is getting too dark to see. If I were to guess, I would say the MacDonnells. They’ve been waiting for this opportunity after their villages were burned to the ground.”
The sounds of war carried to where they stood. No one would come to the Mackenzies’ aid except for perhaps the other Laird Mackenzie to the north, who was much too far away to arrive promptly.
“Do ye think they will send a messenger to request our help?” Ewan asked.
“Aye, they probably already have.”
Gallant neighed and kicked up his huge hooves, alerting them that riders were approaching. Keithen drew his sword, noting that Ewan did as well.
Four riders came near with swords drawn. They were Mackenzies. “Why do ye lurk about our lands?” one of them said with a sneer. He motioned toward the keep. “Unless, this is yer doing?”
“What would we have to gain?” Keithen replied, pulling back on his horse to keep it from charging.
The men exchanged looks and one spit on the ground. “Nothing good comes from a Fraser. Ye have been wishing for revenge. We know it is one of ye that has been killing our guardsmen.”
Rage surged through Keithen’s veins, but he managed not to show it. “Perhaps yer guards needed to spend more time training?”
The men charged, swords clanging as each swung against the other. Keithen and Ewan each fought two, which proved unfortunate. Although he’d face similar odds several times and Keithen knew how he had to block one while striking toward the other, within minutes, he was becoming winded.
Thankfully, Gallant managed to crush one of the men’s legs, which gave Keithen a bit of a reprieve.
One of Ewan’s opponents fell to the ground, but both of Keithen’s continued to fight. He held up a short sword with his left arm, just as the man sliced across, the blade cutting through his sleeve and into this skin.
“Augh!” Keithen growled and managed to turn in time to block a strike from the other side.
Suddenly, a rider came through the woods. On a fast and lithe horse, the masked rider circled them, disconcerting the fighters who tried to figure out which side would have a new advantage.
When one of the men Keithen fought fell to the ground from a strike of the masked man’s sword, Keithen took advantage and fought against the other one left.
He managed to throw the man off balance before striking him down. The one who’d fallen on the ground now fought with the masked rider. Ewan and his opponent continued to fight as well.
Finally, the masked rider overcame the one on the ground and Ewan’s opponent fled into the forest.
“If he goes to the Mackenzie, they may declare war on yer clan,” Ewan said, looking to Keithen. “Should we go after him?”
“No. They have enough on their hands. I doubt the idiot will come after us. We are evenly matched now. We may even have an advantage after this battle.”
“Who are ye?” Keithen turned to see that the masked rider was riding away.
He and Ewan exchanged looks. “Have ye seen him before?” Ewan asked.
Keithen nodded. “Aye, once. Almost the same place. He must be someone who lives near here. Whoever it is seems to take sides against the Mackenzies.”
They dismounted so that Keithen could wrap his injured arm. After a cursory check on the horses to ensure they were not injured, they rode closer to Mackenzie Keep to find out exactly who had attacked.
From the lack of activity, the battle was ending. The falling sun and long shadows made it almost impossible to distinguish between enemy and ally.
A torch illuminated a banner that was lifted as men called out chants. It was, indeed, the MacDonnells who’d attacked.
The walls had not been breached and yet both sides had suffered causalities. Neither side had won and yet it had been enough of a warning to the Mackenzie from the opposing clan that they were not to be toyed with.
If Keithen were to guess, the lack of support from local clans also sent a hard message to the new laird. They were without allies. That was a direct result of their past misdeeds.
Riding back to the keep, Keithen cradled his arm against his body. The cut, which was on the forearm, throbbed. His left side ached from a strike and he was sure there was another injury on his right shoulder.
He studied Ewan’s bloody tunic. “The healer will be busy tonight. This is not yer fight. I should have asked ye to return to the keep and not Broden.”
Ewan shrugged good-naturedly. “I was becoming bored. Tonight got my blood flowing. Tis good to keep the sword arm in good use.”
“Ye’re a good swordsman. Ye must have spent a lot of time training.” Keithen left out the part acknowledging that where Ewan grew up, there was rarely any threat or need for fighting knowledge. The people of Uist were separated from Scotland by water and, therefore, it would be hard to overtake them unless the attackers had a large fleet of birlinns to traverse the uncertain waters.
The man was a contradiction. While he was easygoing, he was still a fierce warrior. He was large in size, but often played with children in the courtyard like an oversized lad.
“Do ye plan to return to Ross Keep in the spring?” Keithen asked, truly curious.
Once again, Ewan shrugged. “I may return to Uist. I have not decided as of yet. I came here to find my true calling. My father and brother have things well in hand back home, when it comes to caring for the people and lands. My sole responsibility was to be a guard.”
“Not much different than here,” Keithen said.
“Not true.” Ewan looked up to the sky. “There was rarely an opportunity to engage in battle in Uist.”
“Battling and threats can be exhausting. People get hurt or die.”
Ewan nodded understanding. “Aye, there is that. However, I cannot understand a life without true purpose.”
Keithen understood. His own path was set. One day, he’d be laird and be responsible for the people on the land surrounding his home. He would raise a family there at Fraser Keep and would spend days tending to the needs of the people, meeting with other lairds and maintaining control of the borders. He had a purpose, which he relished. It was hard to imagine Ewan’s status. Or lack thereof.
It was nearly dawn when Keithen and Ewan finally entered the courtyard where everything was just as when they’d left.
Once they dismounted and the horses given over to the stable lads, he and Ewan made their way into the main house.
His mother rushed to him. “What happened? Ye’re injured.”
“I will live,” Keithen assured her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “However, we both require the healer.”
Catriona came to him and looked first at his arm and then to Ewan. She quickly looked away when meeting gazes with Ewan.
“Come, I will wash out yer injuries while the healer is summoned.”
They followed the woman to the back of the great room and sat at a table. Bowls of water and cloths were brought. Both he and Ewan’s tunics were cut away and what looked to be an army of servants began to clean the cuts and press compresses into bruises. Keithen frowned, noting his mother hovering and ordering for this and that to be brought.
“Mother. All I require is for my cuts to be stitched and some rest. I assure ye other than being very sl
eepy, I am fine.”
Her gaze roved over him, and she pinpointed an angry gash on his shoulder. “Remain still. The healer comes soon.”
“What happened last night?” he finally asked Catriona. “Why is Mother acting so overprotective?”
“A messenger arrived to inform us that yer cousin, Blair, died in an ambush. She was most alarmed when yer messenger arrived just moments later.”
He’d find out later from his father who’d killed his cousin. The other Clan Fraser was larger than theirs and whoever did it would be made to pay.
Just then, Ava appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked in his direction and hurried down. As she approached, he noted, she looked tired. Had she been up worrying about him, as well?
There was a calmness in her gaze when it traveled from his face down to the two wounds. “I will see to his wounds,” Ava said, taking a cloth from a servant. “Please bring whisky, needle and thread.”
Moments later, he was laid onto the table. Ava placed a clean cloth over his chest and crossed his left arm atop it. “This will burn a bit.” She poured whisky into the wound.
It hurt. Keithen gritted his teeth. “What are ye doing?”
“Ensuring it doesn’t fester,” she replied calmly and then dipped the needle in the whisky. Each stitch burned. Keithen was glad when the last one was completed.
Once she finished with his arm, she did the same to his left shoulder which, thankfully, had only a small cut.
With quick moves, she mixed several items to make a poultice that was placed on his bruises. Then she examined Ewan and also cleaned his cuts and sewed one shut.
By the time she was done, they were bandaged in clean cloths and fed a light stew.
She walked beside him up to the bedroom and sat on the bed when he laid upon it. “I am glad to see ye are not hurt too badly. Yer mother was very worried.”
The way his wife hovered made him wonder if she was worried, as well. “Thank ye for caring for my wounds. Ye are quite good at it.”
“I studied healing,” she replied, her gaze meeting his. “It felt good to be needed.”
Unable to help it, Keithen yawned and lifted up to place a kiss to her lips.
Ava slipped from the bed and lowered to a chair. She lifted an embroidery hoop and studied her work.
Just as his eyes closed, Keithen saw something that looked to be a bruise just under the cuff of her sleeve.
“What happened…” his words slurred as he spoke.
“What?”
“The bruise…”
Ava pressed her lips together. “Rest.”
He’d have to ask her later. At the moment, whatever she’d given him pulled him to a deep slumber.
The touch of a hand on his face could have been his imagination, but it felt so real.
Chapter Twelve
There were several places at Fraser Keep that Ava could go without the glares of either servants or villagers. Her days were spent between her bedchamber, Lady Fraser’s sitting room and a new garden she’d begun working on. The long hours tilling the dark earth and preparing it for planting gave her purpose. Although she’d not be able to plant anything for a long time, it would be ready when the snow melted in the spring.
Ava would plant herbs and a variety of plants with healing properties. She hoped to convince Keithen to go with her into the forest to forage for the necessary plants.
A woman came around the corner and watched her. Ava pretended not to notice, but caught a glimpse of the skirts.
“Ye are doing well here,” Flora said. The village woman who cared for Catriona neared. “This area may not receive enough sunlight for plants to thrive.”
Ava smiled. “There is afternoon sun here, which I think lasts longer than morning sun.”
The woman watched her for a few moments. “I was very angry when ye first came here. I did my best not to be because what yer father did was not yer fault. But still, I did not like ye.”
Not sure what to say, Ava kneeled and began digging with her spade. Tears threatened to overflow. Why could she not become accustomed to being an outcast? She was unwanted wherever she went.
When a droplet hit the back of her hand, she took a breath. “I do not expect anyone to care for me. But I do hope that someday ye and the others will be kind.”
Flora lowered to sit on a small stool. “I cannot imagine what it is like here for ye and must admit to admiring how ye carry on.”
“What choice do I have?” Ava replied with a sniff. “It is my lot in life and I must accept it.”
“I lost my husband the day yer father sent his army to attack us. Up until then, we’d been living with his threats over our heads. Every day, I worried about my husband and what would happen if the Mackenzie attacked. My worst fears came to be.”
Ava sat back on her heels and sighed. “I am so very sorry.”
“He was a good man, a good fighter. But yer clan sent so many warriors that it was impossible for our men to defend themselves.”
At seeing the sadness in Flora’s gaze, her own chest constricted. What would it feel like if Keithen was killed in battle? What if her brother attacked and, as a result, she, too, lost her husband?
“I cannot imagine.”
“There is naught to be done about it,” Flora said matter-of-factly. “However, I must tell ye that I do not blame ye and, despite everything, I find that I like ye.”
It was hard to swallow past the lump that formed. “Thank ye for telling me this.” Ava looked to Flora. “I hope we can become friends.”
“We will,” the woman replied. “What do ye plan to put in this garden?”
At the change of subject, Ava began to tell Flora of her plans for a healing garden.
*
“I must speak to ye,” Keithen said.
Ava stood and wiped dirt from the front of her skirt.
Flora excused herself and hurried indoors.
After a night’s rest, he looked much better. If not for his arm in a sling, she would not know he’d been in battle. “Is something wrong?”
He nodded. “Yesterday, Ewan and I were attacked on Mackenzie lands. We’d ridden to see what was happening after seeing smoke. Yer family home was under siege.”
“What did ye see? Who attacked?”
“The MacDonnell. From what we saw, the battle was hard, but neither side seemed to gain control over the other.”
Her mind raced in different directions. “Can a messenger be sent to find out if my brother and mother were harmed?”
“No. Not right now. Things are too volatile. When we were caught on the lands, they accused us of being behind the attack. So now we have to wait and see what yer brother does.”
“I do not know how to feel right now.” Ava hung her head, overcome with the constant onslaught of bad news. It was becoming too much to bear.
Her husband’s arm came around her and pulled Ava against the firmness of his chest. She wrapped her arms about his waist, not wishing to ever let go. For the first time in her life, she felt comfort and security.
The rise and fall of Keithen’s breathing were like a balm to her soul, flowing and filling every part of her brokenness. The warmth of his breath on her temple soothed the fears that just moments earlier threatened to destroy her.
“Ye are not alone, Ava,” Keithen said. “I will always be here for ye. Remember it. Why is yer wrist bruised?”
She leaned against his chest, embarrassed at the tears flowing freely now. It was the most perfect moment, and she wished for time to stand still so that the warmth of his embrace would never end.
“Do ye care for me?” Ava asked, needing to know.
He nodded. “Of course, I do. Ye’re my wife.” There was conviction in his statement, leaving no room for doubt or question. Ava’s shoulders fell and lightness filled her.
“Thank ye” She looked up at him.
“No need to thank me.” The corners of his lips shifted up just a bit. “Tis natural that I admit how I
feel.”
He looked at her again. “The bruise?”
She looked to the ground in thought. “From here, gardening, my hand slipped.”
Holding her tighter, he kissed her temple. “Be with care.”
It would take a long time for her to understand having a kind husband. Keithen was vastly different than any man she’d come across.
He kissed her gently, pressing his lips against hers for a lingering moment. Ava lifted to her toes and grasped his shoulders, demanding more. Keithen responded and wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist, pulling her closer as his tongue darted into her mouth.
Walking backward and falling against the wall, he trailed his lips down the side of her throat and nibbled at the sensitive skin.
Every single part of her body reacted. Shivers traveled through her limbs. It was definitely so very different with this man than with her late husband. Just a look from Keithen brought tingles of excitement.
He pulled her up against him. “I want to take ye here.”
Although she was unsure how it would be accomplished, Ava nodded, eager to try.
“Pull yer skirts up,” Keithen instructed. “Wrap yer legs about my waist.” He fumbled with the front of his trews as he spoke.
Her breathing picked up as she peered over his shoulder, hoping no one would walk past.
“Look at me,” Keithen instructed.
Ava gasped as he entered her in one swift thrust. Her body tightened in arousal and she forgot caring about anything except what happened between them.
At first, he moved slowly, pumping in a steady rhythm, filling her completely and then moving out just far enough. His breaths were hard against her throat, matching her gasps of enjoyment.
“Augh!” Keithen grunted, thrusting in harder as he neared cresting. Ava did her best to remain present in each moment, wishing to keep the beautiful memory, but her everything dissolved as she lost control and found her release. Pushing her mouth against his throat, she cried out just as his hoarse moans sounded.
For a moment, he leaned against her, pressing Ava hard against the wall. But she didn’t mind, her body was too languid to feel much.
Keithen finally straightened and lowered her to the ground. “I promise to find out about yer family. It may be difficult as it is possible yer brother will declare us enemies.”
A Fearless Rebel Page 10
