They reached the circle where the final bout would take place. Already a throng had gathered. He and his da rejoined his mother and Grayce, and he introduced Grayce to James’s parents, Andrew and Emily.
Good-natured greetings were called out by their neighbors. Many patted him on the back and engaged him and his father in friendly conversation. This was his clan’s way of assuring him and his family that they paid no heed to Aiden’s blather. Pride in his people swelled his heart, and he was more determined than ever to be the man to lead them to a safe, just, and prosperous future.
Ceann Carraig called out for everyone’s attention as James and Aiden entered the ring. “In this final bout, the winner of the longsword tournament shall be determined.” He peered around the ring at the villagers before turning to the combatants. After reminding the men of the rules, he declared, “Ye may begin.”
James and Aiden began circling each other even as the druid left the muddy enclosure. James had never sparred with Aiden as he had with Brian. In fact, he and James had played with wooden swords as wee lads, imagining they defeated enemies who threatened their way of life. Up until his friend’s family moved to the upper village where his father opened a smithy, he, James and Dylan had been inseparable playmates and best friends
Brian stood beside Grayce, and awareness of her nearness thrummed through him. He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “James’s da is handy at creating brooches, rings and such.” She tilted her head and shivered where his breath met bare skin. Her reaction pleased him beyond reason, heating his blood. “If ye choose me, wee Grayce, I’ll have Andrew make ye a fine wedding band of Celtic knots. Would ye prefer gold or silver?”
“I would prefer that you watch what you say.” She cast him a glare, her cheeks rosy. “The tournament is not over.”
“I’m cut to the quick by your lack of confidence in me, lassie. Cut to the quick, I tell ye.”
She shook her head and elbowed him in the ribs.
“Oof.” He gripped his side. A few folks nearby chuckled, and Brian couldn’t resist winking at Grayce. Her feathers ruffled as they were, he found her utterly irresistible. The rose in her cheeks deepened, and she moved to his ma’s other side, putting her between them. “Fine. Be that way,” he teased, turning his attention to the combatants.
James was assessing Aiden, testing his skill with quick offensive strikes then backing away just as swiftly. Aiden verbally taunted in an attempt to draw James into rash action. James knew better than to react. Brian kept his eye on his friend, willing him to be cautious. “Wear him out, lad, then go on the offensive,” he said under his breath. “Don’t take your eyes off him for an instant.”
Nothing happened for several moments, and all could see Aiden’s impatience mounting. He roared and rushed James. His blows were erratic and undisciplined. James blocked him easily, leading Aiden about the ring. Unable to make headway, Aiden backed off, and the two circled each other again. James smirked, took one hand from his sword and gestured rudely at Aiden.
Aiden rushed James again, this time getting close enough to attempt to trip him. James evaded the maneuver and went on the offensive, easily backing Aiden to the center of the ring. Aiden attempted to come up beneath his guard, but James blocked the blow.
Back and forth they went, neither able to mark the other. Aiden breathed heavily, whilst James showed no signs of fatigue. Surely James would win.
“No,” Grayce hissed.
An instant later, Aiden slipped in the mud and fell forward. James tried to back out of the way, lowering his sword to keep from impaling the falling man. Aiden’s blade sliced deeply into James’s arm as he went down, cutting him from his shoulder to the crook of his elbow. James dropped his sword and gripped the gaping wound. Blood spilled through his fingers and dripped to the ground. Several women screamed, James’s mother the loudest.
Brian pushed people out of his way, pulling off his tunic and shirt as he ran to James. He tossed his tunic and wrapped his linen shirt tightly around the bleeding wound. The sight sickened him. Aiden had cut James to the bone at the shoulder.
“Foul,” someone shouted, and a chorus of angry shouts arose. “Foul! Foul!” the spectators shouted as they shook their fists in the air.
Aiden dropped his sword and held up his hands. “I slipped,” he protested. “I never meant to—”
“Liar!” Emily shouted. That set up a new chorus and more fist shaking.
“The problem with being a fecking piece of shite all the time, Aiden, is that none believe ye didn’t mean to eliminate a rival by foul means now,” Brian bit out. His wrath overpowered him, and if his hands hadn’t been occupied with trying to prevent his friend from bleeding to death, they’d be around Aiden’s neck.
Ceann Carraig, a druidess and James’s parents soon surrounded them. The druidess took over staunching the flow of blood from the wound. James had gone pale, and sweat beaded his forehead. Now that his hands were free, the hot rage churning in Brian’s gut threatened to boil over.
“Let Anna see to your son,” Ceann Carraig told Andrew and Emily, his tone soothing. “There is no better healer in all three valleys. Andrew, help Anna get your son to the healer’s hall,” he said. “You go with them, Emily. Anna will need an extra pair of steady hands. I’ll join ye as soon as I am able.”
James was half led, half carried out of the ring, supported on either side by Andrew and the healer. Emily picked up her son’s sword from the mud and glared murderously through her tears at Aiden before she followed her son to the druid’s grove.
Ceann Carraig held up his hands for quiet. “Be assured we and the elders shall discuss what is to be done. Return here at half noon on the day after tomorrow for our decision, and those of ye who are in the tournament, come prepared should we determine the contest of skill with swords should begin anew. Go now in peace.”
Brian stared at the blood covering his hands and forearms. In peace? He couldn’t look at Aiden. If he did, there was no telling what he might do. The man had to be stopped.
“Come lad,” his da said. “Let’s go get ye cleaned up.”
“My tunic is … somewhere.” He searched the ground, hoping his garment had not been trampled into the mud.
“Your mother has it, and she’s none too pleased with ye either. She muttered about how ye could’ve handed it to her instead of tossing such a fine example of her handiwork into the mud as ye did.”
Incredulous, he looked askance at his da. The concern, love and pride reflected back to him brought a sting to his eyes. He huffed out a laugh. It was that or cry. “No doubt she’s wroth with me.”
He left the ring, his da walking beside him, and they headed for home. “Da, I don’t know what to do with the anger.”
“Success is always the best revenge, laddie. Beat the worthless piece of shite in every contest of skill to come.”
“That I can do.”
“Do so with integrity.” His da placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder.
“In other words, don’t taunt and prod the madman with words meant to incite his wrath?”
“Aye. After all, ye did promise Grayce.”
He blew out a breath. “That I did.”
“Your mother and I are proud of ye, son. We don’t say it oft enough, but we are. Ye were the first to run to your friend’s side to lend a hand.”
Damn but his eyes stung again. “I don’t say it oft enough either. I am proud of the both of ye and Ma as well.”
Brian and his da walked to the back of the home where he’d been born and raised by the best parents imaginable. His da drew the bucket from the well and poured the water as Brian washed away the blood.
“Mind the spots on your chest,” his da said. Ye can borrow one of my shirts for today.”
Nodding, he cupped water in his hands and splashed it over his chest and torso, rubbing away the red spots. After what had happened, he needed to be with his clan, wanting reassurance of the ties that bound them. “Might we visit the village
this eve? We could eat at one of the pubs and share a flagon or two with friends. Mayhap we’ll hear news of how James fares.”
“We’re all a bit stunned. ’Tis a grand idea, and I’m sure your ma would appreciate a meal out.”
Swiping off the droplets of water, Brian made his way to the backdoor. “You go in first. I’ll wait here for a shirt.”
“Have ye not been competing bare chested these past few days?” His da’s eyes widened. “And now ye are modest of a sudden?”
“Aye but having everyone’s eyes upon me in the tournament … ’Tis different.” It was far more intimate to have one woman’s eyes upon him, especially when he wanted that one woman. He shrugged. “Grayce is inside.”
“All the more reason to flaunt your assets, laddie.” He winked.
Laughter burst forth, and he shook his head as he followed him inside. His father always knew how to turn his thoughts down a different path.
Grayce sat in a chair beside the hearth, a needle and thread in hand with a swath of linen draped over her lap. She glanced at him. Her eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, were overly bright with the sheen of tears. Brian’s heart tumbled from his chest to the wood planks beneath his feet. “Nay, I beg ye, do not cry. I cannot bear it when ye cry.”
She was out of the chair and in his arms in a trice, leaving her work in a heap on the floor. He tightened his hold around her, tucked her head under his chin and rocked her gently back and forth. “Ye’ve had another shock.”
“That was h-horrible,” she sobbed. “Aiden did it on purpose. I sensed his intent a second before he pretended to slip.”
“That’s why ye said ‘no’ a second before Aiden slipped?”
Nodding, she sniffed and hiccupped. “I could feel Aiden’s excitement after he cut James. H-he meant to knock him completely out of the competition.”
“Even without having your abilities, I suspected as much. ’Tis certain others do as well.” With each passing day, Aiden revealed his true nature to all, and even his staunchest allies were now distancing themselves from him.
Grayce leaned back and peered up at him, her gaze searching. “Aiden is the one who should be eliminated. Doing no real harm is the most important rule, and he broke it.”
“Aye, he should be. Mayhap the council will come to the same conclusion.” Nothing would make him happier if that were the case.
His parents came out of their bedroom, a shirt draped over his da’s arm. Heat rose up Brian’s neck as his mother’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Grayce in his arms. He shouldn’t be holding her as he was, especially not while bare from the waist up, yet he couldn’t let her go. She needed comforting, and they were in the privacy of his parents’ home.
“Isn’t there something we can do?” Grayce asked. “Should I tell Ceann Carraig what I sensed?”
The trust shining from her lovely gray eyes as she looked at him nearly brought him to his knees. “Aye, love. If ye wish to talk to the druids, we’ll do so. For my part, I swear to defeat Aiden in every contest yet to come.”
Sighing, she pressed her cheek to his shoulder, closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Good.”
His da cleared his throat. “I’ve a shirt for ye, laddie.”
Reluctantly, Brian released her and stepped back. He donned the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to hide the effect having Grayce in his arms had wrought. “Da and I thought we might head into the village this eve. We can eat at one of the pubs and have a few pints, meet with friends. ’Twould be good to gather with others after a day such as this. What do ye say, Grayce?”
“Sure. I can be the designated walker.”
Brianna chuckled. “Designated walker?”
“I don’t drink. It’ll be my job to make sure the rest of you get home safely.”
“Ach, we won’t be drinkin’,” his da said. “Just a draught or two of ale is all. No strong spirits.”
“I don’t drink anything with alcohol.” Grayce twisted her hands together. “A few years ago, I drank a lot and took other chemicals in an effort to make my visions go away and to dull the impact of other people’s emotions. The visions didn’t go away, but the substance abuse soon controlled me. I am a recovering addict, and I worked too hard to overcome my addictions to backslide now.”
His da’s brow rose. “Designated walker it is, then. I’ll feel better knowing ye’ll steer us in the right direction home, Grayce.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we go take care of the chores, lad? I’ve a hankering for a meat pie. We can head into the village as soon as we’re finished.”
“The Goose & Gander has the best meat pies,” Brianna told Grayce. “Chicken, pork, beef or lamb, hands down theirs are the best.”
Grayce visibly relaxed. Did she think he and his kin would respect her less for having recognized and faced her problem? Their clan had its fair share of men and women who could not control their drinking. Some had the will to stop, while others did not. “’Tis a shame so few possess the inner strength ye do.” He drew her in for another quick hug. “Ye faced a challenge and came out the victor. ’Tis an accomplishment to be proud of and not cause for shame.”
“Be ready to go when we return,” his da said as he headed for the back door.
“We will be.” His ma waved him away as she and Grayce settled back into their sewing.
He and his father took the trail up the hill toward one of their pastures. “Let’s move the sheep to the other pasture,” Brian suggested. “Where they are now is being churned to mud. The field needs to recover.”
“Aye, and then ye can muck out the shelter and put down fresh straw, whilst I cut wood. Laundry day will soon be upon us. Come to think of it, we’d best plan a trip to the marshes to cut more peat soon.” His da whistled, and the dogs shot across the field to them. “Bridle the horses, would ye, lad? The job will go faster if we ride.”
“Aye.” He stopped at the shed to scoop a few handfuls of grain into a wooden bucket to entice the horses to come to him. Then he slung their bridles over his shoulder and set out for the muddy pasture.
For the next few hours, he worked by rote. The horses were well trained, and so were their dogs, allowing him the freedom to think. His mind swung back and forth between Aiden’s brutality and Grayce’s tears. What would the council decide? If it were up to him, how would he handle the situation? By the time he and his da returned to the cottage, it was late afternoon, and his mouth watered at the thought of meat pies and ale.
“’Tis clear Grayce holds ye in high esteem, and your feelings for her are plain to see. Mayhap a wee bit too plain for all to see.”
“Mayhap.” He knew that tone, the patient “harken well, laddie” one his father always used when he was about to address some misbehavior or offer a dram or two of good advice. He had a lecture coming. As oft as he vowed to keep his hands from Grayce, he broke his promise at every opportunity. He’d not crossed the line though. Other than a few chaste pecks on her forehead, he hadn’t even kissed her. Goddess, how he longed to kiss her.
“Be discreet with your show of affection for the lassie when not at home. I wouldn’t put it past Aiden and his mother to level accusations against ye. They’ll claim ye’ve taken liberties with Grayce ye ought not to have, if ye take my meaning.”
“She was upset and needed to be held. We were inside where no prying eyes could see us.”
“I know. Just a word of caution. ’Tis clear to everyone in our village the two of ye are perfect for each other, and most are gladdened by the match. Your mother and I couldn’t be happier. Still, ’twould be wise to be circumspect when it comes to how the two of ye behave in public. Grayce being new to our valleys, the responsibility falls to ye to protect her from scandal.”
“I take the responsibility seriously,” he said.
“Good.” His father opened the back door to their cottage and stomped the mud from his shoes on the step. “Ye’ve two hard-working, starving men on your hands, lassies. Are ye ready to go?”
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br /> “We are.” His mother met them at the door and patted his da’s cheek. His parents left for the village, and he and Grayce set out down the path after them. She seemed subdued, withdrawn.
Brian placed his hand at the small of her back for a moment, offering reassurance as best he could. “Are ye all right?”
“I guess,” she said. “I’m glad the substance abuse issue is out in the open. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Ye can tell me anything, Grayce. We may be angry with each other from time to time, and we won’t always agree, but talking things through helps, aye?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have any faults, Brian? What about secrets? If I tell you mine, shouldn’t you tell me yours?”
“I have many faults. Pride tops the list.” He glanced at her. “I hold onto grievances overlong.”
“Like what happened between your dad and Aiden’s parents?”
His chest tightened, and he came to a halt. “What do ye know of that?”
“Sloan told me everything,” she said. “How anyone could believe your father could do such a thing is beyond me.”
She walked on, forcing him to start moving again. “Sloan believes you want to become chieftain because doing so is the best way to restore his good name.”
“The best way to clear my father’s name would be to squeeze the truth out of Aiden in front of witnesses.” He grunted. “With my bare hands around his treacherous neck.”
Grayce mimicked his grunt. “So, we can add murderous tendencies to your list of faults. Good. My list was longer than yours. If you keep this up, we’ll soon be even.”
He chuckled. Grayce was as skilled as his father at using humor to divert the path of his thoughts, another item to add to her growing list of admirable qualities. “I do have a secret I’m willing to share.”
“Give me a minute to prepare myself,” she said. She lifted her chin, shook out her arms and squared her shoulders as if bracing herself. “All right, I’m ready.”
Her teasing smile hit him squarely at the core of his being, knocking the breath from his lungs. “I want ye, Grayce. I want ye to be my wife more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life. We’re meant for each other. Surely with your special abilities, ye can sense I’m right. Ye are always in my thoughts and in my dreams, and the prospect of other men coming anywhere near ye drives me mad.”
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