Highlander's War 0f Clans (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)

by Adamina Young

  But she had acted demurely and accepted the news with a nod, and then excused herself for the evening, returning to her chambers where she flung herself on her bed and wept into her pillow.

  There had been much weeping since then as well, although now that her wedding day had arrived, Caitlin was oddly calm. There was a sense of inevitability about it. There was nothing she could do to stop it, so there was no point in trying to escape her fate. It was somewhat akin to being caught in a storm. It wasn’t pleasant being drenched, but she could hardly sweep away the storm with a gesture. It was going to happen whether she liked it or not, so she might as well grin and bear it.

  She waited patiently as her mother played with her hair, trying to arrange it in a pretty fashion. Caitlin wasn’t complaining about the fuss that was being placed upon her. She had been given a white dress that had been woven from the finest material the clan could find, and it clung to her body in a way that accentuated all of her natural curves. She had never felt more like a woman than when she had looked down at herself in her dress. Her flawless skin was milky, and she looked the picture of innocence. Beauty radiated from her, but as every moment passed, her heart beat a little more quickly as anxiety rose, fluttering in her stomach.

  “I remember when I married ye father,” Violet said, chatting idly as she played with the flowers. “It was the happiest day of my life.”

  “Are ye trying tae rub the poor lass’s face in it?” Iris asked indignantly. “Ye didnae hae tae marry a brute!”

  Caitlin squirmed at the description of her betrothed. She had never met Rhys Frasier, but she knew the reputation of the clan as big and brutish, not the handsome and charming gentlemen she had always pictured in her mind when she had fantasized about the man she was going to marry.

  “Is it true their family were once giants?” Caitlin asked.

  Violet scoffed and shook her head. “That is just a story, nae more real than ghouls and goblins. They’re just tall, that’s all, and I’m sure that Rhys will make a good husband.” She gave a pointed glance towards Iris, who muttered something under her breath.

  “I just wish I had a chance tae meet him beforehand. At least it may have settled my nerves,” Caitlin admitted.

  “Ye’ll be fine my dear.” Violet placed her arms around Caitlin’s shoulders and leaned in to kiss Caitlin’s cheek. “I’m sure ye will be happy, and love will come tae ye as it does tae every husband and wife.”

  “And if nae then ye can always sleep with a dagger under ye pillow,” Iris said. Violet looked shocked at her sister-in-law and shook her head.

  “Ye should nae be telling her that!” Violet turned to her daughter once again. “Ye will nae hae anything tae worry about. Ye da wouldnae hae made this agreement if he thought anything bad was gaeing tae happen tae ye. He loves ye dearly. Ye are the most precious thing in the world tae him,” Violet said. Caitlin smiled. She would have been lying if she said that Iris’s words did not make her quail with anger. She wanted to believe in the best for her own sanity, but she also feared the worse. The Frasiers were their enemy and it seemed wrong to be forced to give her heart to one of them. Secretly, she had thought of her prowess with the sword, knowing that she could at least rely on that to provide a defense, although she was not sure how proficient it would be against a warrior from the Frasier clan. Their reputation was one of brutality and aggression. Sometimes they were said to be more animals than men, born of giants and beasts, and the thought made her shudder.

  The conversation between the three women was interrupted by the arrival of Bryn, who burst through the door and looked upon Caitlin with great adoration. He looked stunned by her beauty and took her hands in his. He turned to Violet and Iris, requesting some time alone with his daughter before she was married. They left, muttering amongst themselves, Violet still irked that Iris would talk about such things in front of Caitlin, and Iris defending herself staunchly, saying that the girl needed to be ready for anything.

  Bryn smiled widely and there was a tear in his eye as he looked at Caitlin.

  “Ye are sae beautiful, and I am proud tae have ye as a daughter,” he said, beaming. Then, he let out a small chuckle. “There was a time when I would never hae thought ye would end up wearing a dress like this. I remember when you were a wee lass there was naething ye liked more than running through the woods causing trouble, dragging dirt back with ye, ye smudged and ye clothes tattered. Ye ma and I never knew what ye got up tae!”

  Caitlin shrugged and smiled at the memory. “I only ever strolled through the forest,” Caitlin said. “I never looked for trouble.”

  “Nae, but it always had a way of finding ye,” he said in good humor, and then exhaled deeply. His expression became more serious. “I wanted tae thank ye. I know it is nae easy tae hae ye destiny decided for ye like this, but it is what’s best for the clan.”

  “I know, Father, and I am proud tae dae my duty for ye. I hae always known that I would hae tae marry one day. I have faith that ye hae made a good choice.” She cast her gaze to the ground. “But I am unsure about marrying a Frasier. How can I love a man who haes always been my enemy?” Caitlin asked.

  Bryn nodded. “I know it is difficult, but I hope that it will come in time. I want ye tae be open with ye mind and ye heart. Give this a chance because the safety of the clan depends on ye.” His expression became grave. “I know it was unexpected, but in truth, I hae wanted a way tae end the war for a long time. Seeing sae many people die…it is never a good thing tae see your friends and family pass on because of a war. I would hate for ye tae hae tae gae through that as well.”

  “My brothers think that a war is the only way forward. They tease me and want me tae run away at the altar so that another battle begins.”

  “Aye, they are young and dinnae understand, but ye are different. Ye hae always seen the bigger picture. I had nae hesitation in accepting this agreement as I knew ye would dae ye duty and represent the clan.”

  “Of course, Da. I know that it is more important than any of us. We each hae our duty, and this is mine. I will nae let ye down,” Caitlin said, matching her father’s serious tone. Bryn cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her on the forehead. His pale lips trembled and his eyes glistened with tears. He smiled weakly, and although Caitlin had always thought of her father as a strong, vigorous man, this was perhaps the first time when she thought of him as old. Time turned like a wheel and took everyone along with it. Caitlin wondered if, in time, she would be fussing over her own child as her mother did, but it calmed her to know she wouldn’t have to fear her child being killed in a war with the Frasiers. While it did not sit right in her heart to marry the enemy, she could at least take solace in the knowledge that she was going to do something for the good of the clan.

  “I want tae give ye this,” Bryn said. He slipped a ring off his little finger. It was made of dark metal. The jewel was murky, as though clouds swirled within the ring. It was the family jewel and heirloom that had been passed down through generations.

  “Da, I cannae take this. It is meant for ye firstborn son.”

  “Aye, but sometimes it is necessary tae break with tradition. I believe in this marriage, and I think there should be a symbol so that everyone can see.” He placed the ring in her hand and clasped her palm over it. “Ye embody all the qualities that we revere in this clan: bravery, honor, and duty. I cannae think of anyone I would rather hae wear it.”

  “Won’t Mark be upset?”

  “I will talk with him and make sure he understands. When it is time ye can hand this over tae ye own child, and it can begin a new history—one that won’t be drenched in blood.”

  Caitlin took the ring and looked at it deeply. Emotion swelled within her. She didn’t even attempt to put it on because it was far too big for her. She flung her arms around her father and held him tightly. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she realized that this was the end of an era. There had been so many changes in her life over the past few years. She had shed childhoo
d like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, and now it was time for her to soar away to freedom and embrace the changing fortunes of her life. It was terrifying in a way, but also exciting too. She had a duty to her clan and to her father, and she was determined to see it through. But as ready as she was to begin her adult life, she was still filled with trepidation.

  “I know just what tae dae with this,” she said, pulling away from her father to try and compose herself, wiping the tears away from the rims of her eyes and her soft cheeks. She walked to a desk and pulled out some twine, snapping it off with a knife. She threaded the twine through the ring and tied a knot between the two ends. She handed it to her father. “Would ye dae the honor?” she asked.

  Bryn took it happily and placed it over her neck as she dipped her head. The ring nestled against the middle of her chest and there was something comforting about having a cherished heirloom so close to her heart. Even though she would leave the family home after the wedding, she would always carry a piece of it with her.

  “It’s wonderful Caitlin,” he said. He kissed her again on the cheek, and then stepped back, composing himself. “I will leave ye tae get ready now. It will nae be tae long until ye new husband arrives.” Caitlin thanked him and then breathed deeply to compose herself as well. Yes, it wouldn’t be long, not long at all until she left everything behind and began her new life with a stranger. Her hand rose to her chest and she fondled the family ring. She had to remember that her family was why she was doing this.

  2

  Swords clashed. Rhys Frasier stood in the middle of the courtyard as his two younger brothers, Seamus and Sean, attacked him in tandem. Their blades came at him in a flurry, but with deft footwork and nimble agility, he evaded their strikes and struck back in a fluid motion, dealing with both their swords, trying to unbalance them. Rhys’s brow was covered in sweat. He was the spitting image of his father in looks, as tall and broad as a mountain, and as strong as an ox. His red hair came to his shoulders, and a thick beard covered the lower half of his face. Seamus and Sean’s faces were twisted in concentration as they tried to defeat their brother, a man who hated to lose. He was twenty-four now and had been ready to step into the role of a man for a good number of years. Never had he been defeated by his brothers, and that streak would not be ended, not on his wedding day.

  When he decided that he had toyed with his brothers enough he flicked his wrist and disarmed Seamus. Moving in between the two, he shoved all his weight into Seamus’s body, knocking him to the floor. Then, he rolled around while Sean was still reacting. While his younger brother was striking at the air, Rhys had picked up Seamus’s sword. When he got to his feet he used his momentum and impressive strength to hit Sean’s sword. The impact made tremors run down Sean’s arm and the boy dropped his sword and clutched his hand. Rhys thrust two points against Sean’s neck.

  “I think that’s enough for taeday,” Rhys said with a smug look on his face. He handed the sword back to Seamus and helped him up. Sean was still rubbing his hand, trying to ease the flare of pain.

  “Ye didnae hae tae gae sae hard,” Sean complained, pouting. Rhys frowned.

  “Dae ye think anyone is gaeing tae gae easy on ye in a fight? What happens if ye are caught in a war? There will be nae mercy shown tae ye on a battlefield,” Rhys warned.

  “There will be nae war anymore, nae now ye are getting married. Peace is all anyone can talk about,” Seamus said, moving towards Sean to try and help massage the pain out of his hand. “Ye will never hae a chance tae win ye glory on the battlefield like Da.”

  Rhys scowled. He was already bitter about having missed the last battle. He had been tasked to look after the land while Malcolm led the clan to war, although he had been promised that the next battle would be his. Malcolm hadn’t suggested that the next battle would be an entirely different form of combat. Rhys was built for war, and one day he hoped to wield his father’s war hammer, although that hope was diminishing since his father had made an arrangement for peace. It was three months ago that Rhys had learned of the treaty, and that he was going to have to marry a McClearey. His stomach twisted at the thought for the enmity between the two clans ran deep in his blood and had been a gift passed down from generation to generation. He had to put all that aside to wed this girl and take her as a wife. Not that he much cared about that. He didn’t think he was suited to domestic life and assumed that after he was married he would be able to continue with his interests. He was certain that his wife, Caitlin, would find some way to keep herself busy in his absence.

  He knew little about her. Knowing that she was a McClearey was enough.

  Although Malcolm acted as though it was a great honor to be wed to the house and bring peace to the two clans, Rhys was uncertain. War was a way of life and he had no idea how the Frasier clan was going to cope with peace. He assumed that his father had another enemy to target and he didn’t want to spread the dwindling forces too thin.

  “I’ll get enough glory for all three of us,” Rhys replied angrily, “and if ye dinnae practice ye sword strokes ye are never gaeing tae win glory at all!”

  He went to place the sword back. It was early in the morning and the sun was still new. There was a freshness to the world that gave him the sense that everything was going to change. He was not a man prone to nerves, but on this occasion, he did feel some unease about the future. He and his father had not talked about marriage for a long time when Malcolm had returned from battle. The proclamation of this peace treaty had taken them all by surprise. Three months hadn’t been enough to get used to the idea of the wedding, but soon enough it would be all over and Rhys would be a married man.

  The McCleareys had always been seen as weak. There were no great stories of their lineage and they weren’t built as powerfully as the Frasiers. It was a wonder that they had managed to last this long, but then they were survivors, always managing to burrow away and find some way to live on, returning like rodents. Rhys was proud that his family had won most of the conflicts, although he knew they counted for nothing since the McCleareys still infested the world. Thinking about them brought to mind the hatred with which Malcolm had spoken about the enemy clan. It had been three months, but Rhys was still in a state of shock that Malcolm had agreed to such a proposal. He had always admired his father’s capability in battle, so for that to be abandoned now puzzled Rhys.

  At the time, Malcolm had cited all the dead clansmen as a reason for why it was the right time for peace. The best days of both clans were behind them as the constant turmoil of war had prevented them from flourishing like other clans in the area. While the world had moved on, the old enemies had been locked in a constant state of war, and there was no moving forward unless it ended. Perhaps Malcolm was right and it was time for a new beginning.

  As Rhys walked back towards the house he noticed his father standing on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. With one hand, he beckoned Rhys up.

  Malcolm was not yet dressed. He wore a loose gown that was open at the chest, revealing a broad expanse of flesh that was covered in curly red hair, and scars from various battles and hunts. He had a goblet of wine in one huge hand and gestured for Rhys to take a drink.

  “It’s a big day for ye Son, here’s tae a good life and a good marriage,” he said, raising his glass in a toast. Malcolm took a long gulp of wine. The liquid sloshed around his mouth and trickled down his cheeks, dripping onto his chest. Malcolm wiped his mouth with his sleeve and belched. Rhys smirked and took a smaller sip, not wanting to get intoxicated this early in the morning when there was a long day ahead.

  “Thank ye Da. I hae tae admit that it haes taken me a while tae get used tae the idea of getting married. Tae think that the Frasier and McClearey clans are gaeing tae be one…I’m sure naebody thought it would happen,” Rhys said. Upon hearing his words his father enjoyed a subtle smirk and there was a definite twinkle in his eyes. Rhy was intrigued by this and decided to test his theory. “It makes me wonder if there’s something else
ye hae planned? Is there someone else ye are gaeing tae attack? Perhaps the Pressleys? They have a lot of land we could make use of. Whoever it is I want ye tae know that I am ready for battle.” Rhys stood a little taller, pushing out his chest and broadening his shoulders. Even though the rooms of this castle had been built with high ceilings, Rhys’s head almost touched it. “Let Seamus or Sean look after the land. I want tae ride with ye, father and son, striking fear into the hearts of our enemies.”

  “Ye enthusiasm pleases me,” Malcolm said, picking up some meat that had been brought in for his breakfast. He bit into in savagely. “But I am nae gaeing tae attack anyone else.”

  Rhys was disappointed. His heart sank a little. All he’d ever wanted was to prove himself in battle and fight alongside his father. It’s what every boy wanted, but now that chance was slipping away from him.

  “I see,” Rhys said. “I suppose I shall hae tae find my glory elsewhere.” He tried to not sound too despondent as he wanted to obey his father’s wishes, but they went against all his instincts.

  “I’m nae attacking any other targets because I already hae one in mind,” Malcolm said. His smile widened and his entire body shook with a loud chuckle. Rhys’s eyes widened and then he smiled too, although he didn’t quite yet understand the nuances of Malcolm’s meaning.

  “Who dae ye mean Da?”

  “Why, the only enemy that has ever mattered, the only enemy there truly is: the McCleareys!”