by Wine, Mary
Two men lay on the ground near the house they’d risen in the dead of night to protect. Dark puddles of blood reflected the fires blazing on the roofs of their stable and house. The flames were greedily consuming the thatch as the light illuminated the brutality being endured by the wife of the dead crofter.
Iain had her bent over a fence as he rutted on her like a beast. He gave a grunt before finishing. Rolfe was certain he’d relive those moments for the rest of his life as he failed to make it across the field before Iain drew a dagger across the woman’s throat. Ian turned, his face contorted by his love of violence, and pointed his dagger at a young girl who was being forced to watch. The blade was slick with her mother’s blood—the moonlight spared him no details of the brutal attack.
“Ye see?” Iain asked her. “Do ye see what happens to those who do nae understand what I expect of them?” He pointed the tip of the dagger at her as his men held her in place. But he heard the approach of horses at last. The loud roar of the fire had given Rolfe the advantage.
Rolfe and the Munro Retainers came down on the Mackenzie hard. So absorbed in their sport, they’d failed to watch their surroundings. More blood spilled on the ground as the men riding with Iain fought for their lives and the Munros cut them down in defense of the lives they’d taken.
Rolfe didn’t give Iain a quick death. He sliced him across the back of one leg first. Iain growled but his temper couldn’t help him overcome the crippling injury. He hobbled as Rolfe pursued him mercilessly.
“Spill my blood and the Mackenzie will avenge me!” Iain declared.
“I was no’ feuding with the McKenzies,” Rolfe said. “Yet, here ye are killing me kin, and ye think to intimidate me with yer name?”
Rolfe thrust his sword through Iain’s midsection. It was a brutal motion, one which took all of the strength Rolfe had. The blade sliced through Iain’s flesh, emerging through his back. Iain let out a roar. It pleased Rolfe. He tightened his grip and yanked the blade free. Iain sunk to the ground.
This pleased Rolfe even more.
“Yer brother had better have more sense than ye,” Rolfe declared as Iain drew in his final breath. “For I will not ever allow the Mackenzies to raid me land.”
The fire was burning down, smoke drifting away on the evening breeze. Rolfe felt his body shaking, his strength spent. Yet, what drew his attention the most were the wide eyes of the girl. She was frozen in place, staring at what had been her home and family just an hour before. He’d saved her and yet, Rolfe honestly questioned if he’d shown her any kindness. The emotional wounds she had were as deep as the ones her family members had physically suffered.
“Do ye have other kin, lass?” Donnach asked her softly.
The girl blinked at last, turning to look at him. She extended her arm, pointing at the two men lying on the ground.
Rolfe wiped his sword blade across Iain’s lifeless body to clean the blood off. “We’ll take ye up to the castle. See ye have a respectable position.”
The girl wore on only a shift and her arisaid, but everything else was gone. The stone walls which made up the simple crofter home she’d lived in was naught but a smoking bowl. She clutched the Munro colors close.
Colors he would not allow to be trampled upon by anyone.
Even the Mackenzie.
*
“Father.”
Rhedyn stopped before the head table and performed a reverence.
“Daughter.” Colum motioned her forward. “Ye are up at first light. Good. Come and keep this old man company.”
Rhedyn enjoyed the opportunity to sit next to her father at the high table. It was just barely dawn but her mind had still been churning, so there was little reason to stay in bed. Her reward was the chance to sit beside her father because his captains weren’t there yet. Two Retainers were standing behind her father though, their duty to see to his protection and evident in the way they didn’t take their ease. One pulled a heavy chair out for her.
“Eat, daughter.” Colum pushed a platter closer. There was cheese and fruit and a bit of butter left from the day before. Her father used the small dagger he’d been eating with to stab a chunk of cheese and deliver it to the plate which a maid had placed in front of her.
The castle was just stirring. In the kitchens, the first meal of the day would be simple porridge. But work would begin with a rush as the eggs and milk were brought in. Bread would be mixed and left to rise. In a few hours, the scent of roasting meat would mix with baking bread. Rhedyn caught a glimpse of the Head-of-House as the woman came to the opening between the great hall and the kitchens. She propped her hands onto her hips, frustrated by the laird’s early arrival.
Colum chuckled and sent the woman a smile. “No hurry.” He called out, but the woman had already turned and disappeared back into the kitchens where her authority was absolute.
“I did no’ expect ye so early, Father.” Rhedyn meant her words as pleasant conversation, but her father stopped chewing. Colum contemplated her for a long moment before he pointed the tip of his dagger at her.
“Ye have grown up daughter,” Colum said slowly. “It is good.” He resumed chewing. “Aye. As it should be. Ye know enough about adult matters now to understand what a man is about out at the Sow’s Troth. I should no’ be surprised.”
He flattened his hand on the table top and slapped it several times while he swallowed. “Yer cousin is wedding next week. We’ll go and enjoy the celebration.”
Rhedyn didn’t respond immediately. She took a moment to weigh her words, feeling the change between them. Her father was looking at her in a different way now. Seeing the woman she’d grown into instead of the child she had always been.
Well then, she would act like an adult.
“There is no reason to take me to a wedding in the hope I will suddenly be in the mood to wed.”
Her father grinned at her. “As it seems ye are no longer a child, I would no’ need to resort to such games in order to bring ye around to doing yer duty.”
Rhedyn felt responsibility land on her shoulders. But she decided she liked the feeling. Yes, there was a demand which came with being seen as an adult, however, there was also a compliment in seeing her father gaze upon her as someone he might look to for assistance in managing the clan. In all the times she’d thought about her need to marry, she had never realized how much good it would bring to those she loved.
“Do ye have no feelings at all for Rolfe Munro, lass?” her father asked seriously.
Rhedyn swallowed the lump which suddenly formed in her throat. “I see his good points.”
“He has much demand on his time with his father being ill and yet he came to court ye.”
“I know father.” Rhedyn quelled the urge to duck her chin. A woman didn’t cower.
“Ye have no affection for him.”
“I have no deep affection for any man,” she offered.
Her father perked up, his gaze filling with approval. “Ye have a fine mind in that head, daughter. Looking for the logic in a situation and no’ being led by yer emotions. We’ll go to the wedding, see if any of the other laird’s sons attend.”
He then gave his full attention to the meal. The Head-of-House returned soon after with steaming bowls of porridge. His captains arrived, but when she made to rise and relinquish the chair beside him, her father clasped her wrist and bid her remain. His captains turned an inquiring look toward their laird, but Colum remained steadfast.
That feeling inside her grew. It seemed to glow, like coals did in the hearth on a cold winter morning when everything else was chilled to the core. Her life appeared to have naught but sharp edges with all its duties and requirements.
But inside, she felt the rewards of performing as she was expected to. Deep down in her heart she realized she was earning respect, instead of being afforded it because of who her father was. Something which was completely hers alone because she’d cultivated it.
She wouldn’t disappoint her clan.
*
Colum Lindsey sat at his desk late in the evening. He’d dismissed his secretary, preferring to pen a letter with his own hand. He dipped the quill into the inkwell, withdrawing it. A sheet of paper was laid out in front of him. He applied the tip to the parchment with care, forming his letters slowly, just the way his tutor had instructed him when he was a lad.
When he dipped the quill again, he looked at his fingers. The skin was no longer youthful. There was more than one scar from countless hours spent training with his sword.
That was a skill lost now. Age, it seemed, had no mercy for any man.
But as time had taken his vigor, it had also seen his daughter raised up into a fine woman. Colum smiled as he continued writing. Rolfe Munro was a good man. Given enough time, Rhedyn would find the affection she didn’t yet have for him.
Colum finished his letter and nodded.
Aye. Just a bit more time together and the pair would make a perfect match.
Once the ink was completely dry, he folded it and sealed it with hot wax. He pressed his signet ring into the puddle of wax before it cooled.
“Connor,” Colum called out. The Lindsey Retainer came into the study a moment later, his hand reaching up to tug on his cap.
“Take this to Munro land and make sure ye tell Rolfe I wrote it with me own hand.”
Connor nodded before he turned and left. The study was silent, but Colum found himself humming a little tune as anticipation warmed his insides.
*
“Hurry, Rhedyn!” Bree was excited. Her sister’s eyes sparkled and her hair flowed freely for a change because it was a wedding. Maidens might forget their lien caps in favor of head wreaths. “They are coming back from the church doors now!”
Rhedyn smiled as her sister picked up huge handfuls of her skirts and yanked them to her knees as she ran.
“Go on with ye, daughter,” Colum encouraged Rhedyn.
The Lindsey laird settled down with his men to watch the celebration. The couple had gone to the church doors for the blessing and were now returning to the green for dancing and merriment. A hogshead of ale had been newly tapped. The bride’s father was happily filling mugs with nut-brown ale and handing them out as fast as the brew flowed.
Even the weather appeared to be in a good mood for the sky was blue with only a few clouds floating by. Everyone hurried up to the center of the green to take advantage of the lack of rain. Musicians gathered together to produce a melody that soon had the assembled company mopping their brows.
More people arrived. Different tartans mixing together as the first celebration of spring was at hand. Months of being locked behind walls because of snow had everyone in the mood to join in.
But the air of celebration died as swiftly as a man being dropped through the trap door of the gallows. A new group arrived, riding hard and nearly into the mass of wedding guest. Only at the last moment did they pull their horses to a stop and jump from the saddle.
“Colum Lindsey!”
Hamish Mackenzie stood at the far end of the field. He held his sword out with one arm, proving just how much strength he had. Not that Rhedyn might have missed it. From the way his shoulders blocked out the bright afternoon sun to the firm placement of his feet, there was nothing about him which said anything but strength. At his back were over two dozen Mackenzie Retainers. Each and every one of them intent on spilling blood.
“I demand satisfaction, Lindsey! Satisfaction for Iain Mackenzie who is newly dead due to yer actions!”
The accusation was sharp, cutting through every last conversation and leaving the assembled guests staring as they waited to see how Colum Lindsey would react.
“I never betrayed Clan Mackenzie,” Colum declared firmly.
Rhedyn wished she didn’t hear the hints of age in her father’s voice. Yet, she couldn’t force her ears to be deaf to the gravelly sound. Her father was well past his prime, his hair nearly white now. He presented a stark contrast to Hamish whose hair was dark as midnight and his face hard instead of sagging. In a straight fight, the victor was not likely to be her father. Yet, she knew that he would rather face the Mackenzie himself than allow the Lindsey Retainers to battle on his behalf because it would begin a feud.
“Me brother drank with ye before he rode out a week past,” Hamish insisted. “He trusted ye to be his companion while his tongue was loosened, and ye betrayed him by telling the bloody Munro where he was going!”
The people gathered were intent on what was being said. Rhedyn watched as the women began to tug their children away. The tension was increasing as the group of Mackenzies moved closer to where Colum Lindsey sat with his men.
Rhedyn stepped in front of her younger sister, urging Bree back a few steps.
The sound of horses being ridden hard came closer. Almost anything would have been a welcome intrusion at that moment if it meant it distracted Hamish Mackenzie from his argument. But the men riding toward them were wearing the same colors as Hamish. Their leader was atop a huge stallion. The beast was more than fourteen-hands high and powerful enough to raise up chunks of earth with its hooves.
“Hold, Hamish!”
The leader of the new group of Mackenzie’s issued his order in a tone which made it clear he expected obedience. Hamish Mackenzie’s expression turned to one of frustration, but he lowered his sword.
The newcomer had three feathers on the side of his bonnet. They were secured with a gold broach which had the Mackenzie crest on it.
“Laird Buchanan Mackenzie,” Colum greeted him. “Ye have fine timing, lad. Yer clansman is no’ thinking matters through and ruining a fine celebration.”
Buchanan landed in a wide stance before he was tossing his reins to a younger lad, who appeared quickly to see to the chore. The new laird of the Mackenzies was striding toward his clansmen a moment later, the longer pleats of his kilt swaying with the powerful motion of his stride. His face was a grim mask.
“Ye can nae mean to allow yer brother’s murder to go unaccounted for?” Hamish Mackenzie demanded of his laird. “A half-brother is still blood.”
Buchanan was taller than his clansman. Rhedyn watched the way he flashed a stern look at Hamish before stopping beside him.
“I have never called Iain anything but brother,” Buchanan spoke directly to his clansman.
The two Mackenzies stood for what seemed like a very long moment before Hamish was nodding and reaching to place his hand on his laird’s shoulder. “I knew I could count on ye to see justice done.”
“Aye, I’m seeking justice,” Buchanan spoke in a controlled tone. He lifted one hand and pointed at Colum Lindsey.
“Think man,” Colum declared from where he was. “The Lindseys have long been allies with the Mackenzies. I would no’ betray ye.”
Hamish turned on Colum. “Do ye deny that Iain was drinking with ye at the Sow’s Troth before he went out to raid the Munro?”
“I do not deny he was at the Sow’s Troth at the same time I was,” Colum stated. “We did no’ drink together, for he was in a foul temper. Plenty of men saw it.”
“And then…” Hamish raised his voice so it carried to everyone watching. “Ye shared a drink with Donnach Munro!”
“The Sow’s Troth is a tavern, man,” Colum answered. “More than one clan can enter the establishment. I do nae have the right to stand between the owner of the place and his customers.”
“Ye besotted old goat!” Hamish declared. “After ye passed out, Donnach Munro rode after Iain and cut him down. Everyone knows ye are negotiating with the Munro for an alliance! Did ye seal the deal with Iain’s spilt blood?”
There was a rumble of anger from the Mackenzie Retainers. In response, Colum’s men puffed out their chests, making it plain they wouldn’t back down. Rhedyn felt her fingernails cutting into the palms of her hands as she clenched her fingers into tight fists. Spilled blood would only ever be paid for with more bloodshed.
“The Munro share a border
with me land as well as the Mackenzies,” Colum replied. “Rolfe Munro has come to meet me daughter.”
“Which means ye are guilty!” Hamish roared.
The burly Highlander lunged toward Colum. Rhedyn realized too late that she was on the wrong side of the fight. It hadn’t seemed so great a distance while the music had played and she and her sister had joined in the dancing.
Now, her own clansmen were too far away to help her and Bree. Rhedyn turned toward her sister, intent on running, but her motion drew attention to them.
“Perhaps we’ll simply deal with the matter by striking down yer own blood.” Hamish’s gaze settled on her. “An eye for an eye.”
Rhedyn turned back around to shield her sister.
A fox will always chase a fleeing rabbit…
Her heart was beating so fast, it felt like it would be bruised from the impact with her ribs. But she stood in place, lifting her chin even as she felt her eyes widening in spite of her determination to face up to the Mackenzies.
She would not flee like frightened prey…
She was a Lindsey. And the laird’s daughter. She would stand her ground.
“A fair enough exchange,” Hamish snarled. “Our laird only had two children, ye have only the two daughters…each will be left with only one…”
Hamish came closer, allowing Rhedyn to see the hate distorting his features. There was a savage gleam in his eyes, and it chilled her to the bone, for she recognized it as the sight of a man who had no mercy in his soul.
“Mackenzies, do nae cut down women.” Buchanan stepped into the path of his clansmen. “Much less a half-grown lass.”
Hamish shifted his attention to Buchanan, offering Rhedyn the chance to escape. She turned and shoved her sister away. With a single, wide-eyed look, Bree grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and lifted the fabric high enough to expose her knobby knees. She ran toward the safety of her father’s men.
Rhedyn intended to follow her sister, but a hard grip on her upper arm jerked her back.
“Blood for blood,” Hamish declared. “The Lindsey have taken an heir to the Mackenzies, we are owed one of their laird’s line in return.”