Never Kiss a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Amon compressed his lips and said with a huff, “I was a great Highland warrior once myself, mo chroì.”

  “Fine, then it’s not often the children get the chance to speak with a legendary Highland warrior.”

  Hamish puffed out his chest with feigned pride. Amon rolled his eyes and grumbled, “If you knew him better, you wouldn’t think him such a prize, Lynnea.”

  Jothree gave his father a look of disbelief then turned his puzzled expression toward Hamish. “Is it true what Da said? That when Laird MacMhathain died, he made you his heir.”

  Hamish glanced at Amon. “Your da says that, does he? Well, that is not exactly accurate. Being neighbors, Laird MacMhathain and my father knew and respected each other. He was good to his people and a strong warrior, but it was not until we fought alongside each other in support of William Wallace did our mutual admiration truly grow.”

  Jothree came close and sat down beside his little sister. “Da said he died fighting England.”

  Hamish nodded. The Battle of Roslin had been one of many in the fight to keep English rule and authority out of Scotland, but it was the one battle that had been most pivotal in Hamish’s life. “It was a cold day and we had been fighting for two long days, but we were winning and that knowledge gave us strength to continue for a third and final day. Unfortunately, in the final hours, right before the English were defeated, Laird MacMhathain was struck with an arrow, right here,” he said softly, pointing to a place near his heart. “MacMhathain had no male heir, so his dying request was for a MacBrieve to marry his eldest daughter. This would bind the MacMhathain and MacBrieve clans via matrimony and ensure his people would be protected. The merger would give both clans more power and security.”

  “But then why didn’t you marry Lady MacBrieve?” Fulanna pressed.

  Hamish took in a breath and then let go, deciding the truth was the best answer. “Because she loved my brother.”

  Unfortunately, the simplicity of the statement did not satisfy little Fulanna. Her thin arms were crossed and her dark brows were furrowed. It was clear to all in the room that she was about to unleash a slew of questions. Hamish sat ready for the oncoming barrage, fully prepared for what was about to happen after many encounters with Conor and Laurel’s youngest and very inquisitive daughter.

  Amon, however, decided to avoid the penetrating questions his six-year-old tended to ask and quickly picked Fulanna up to put her on his knee, thereby deflecting her line of thought. Changing the topic to one he was more interested in, he asked, “What do you know of Robert’s commander, Ulrick?”

  Hamish inhaled and leaned back in the chair, intertwining his fingers across his chest. “He’s . . . why I’m here.”

  Amon’s brows shot up. “So you know of him. By reputation or personally?”

  Hamish frowned, deciding not to hide his ill feelings about the man. “Personally.”

  Ulrick had been a mercenary during the war and they had fought together a handful of times. The man was more than moderately talented with the sword and though not nearly as gifted in strategy as the McTiernays, he was capable. He also enjoyed intimidating those around him, not an unusual trait, and when appropriately applied, a useful one. But Ulrick was also the foulest form of man. Hamish had no proof, but he suspected that Ulrick was behind some of the horrors widows endured after the fighting was over. Given true power, however, Hamish believed the man could be very cruel and possibly dangerous.

  Even before his life as a mercenary, Ulrick was loyal only to himself. Many a time, Hamish had witnessed him refusing to help another when it was not to his advantage. On the other hand, Ulrick seized upon anything that inflated his unhealthy dose of pride, including claiming victories that were earned by others. The combination of Ulrick’s narcissism, cruel nature, and a constant longing for more power made the man unpredictable. One never knew what would set him off or how he would retaliate. And Hamish suspected his brother had come to understand this too late and was seeking a peaceful way to replace him as commander. If that was the expectation, Robert would soon be disappointed.

  Hamish had no intentions of ever allowing anyone to use him in such a way. Plus, there was nothing that could entice him to submit to his brother. And he suspected Ulrick had little desire to keep the title of commander. Based on the little he remembered of the man, he suspected that Ulrick’s real goal was to overthrow his brother and take his place as laird.

  Amon gently pushed Fulanna off his knee and said, “Go help your mother. You too, Jothree.” Both their faces and shoulders drooped, but when they saw their father was serious, neither argued and instead shuffled to the other side of the room where their mother was humming and working.

  Once out of easy earshot, Amon sat back and said, “If you know Ulrick, then you know his motives are questionable. Why else would he take so many men with him if not to prevent someone like yourself from gaining their allegiance?”

  “It also gives him the advantage of returning with an army.”

  Amon snorted. “One he’s no doubt growing.”

  “The herald said he left to escort the new priest.”

  Amon snorted again, before he realized that Hamish was grinning underneath his bushy beard. “’Tis no priest Ulrick’s seeking. The man’s probably making promises to every mercenary in Scotland to get them to join him. He has no coin now, but he will if Robert does not have an army waiting that can stop him.”

  Hamish heard the hint but said nothing.

  Disliking the silent response, Amon continued. “I’m not sure how a visit from you alone will end Ulrick’s aspirations. So I am assuming Laird McTiernay is willing to help.”

  Hamish shrugged. “He offered.”

  Amon’s brows drew downward in a frown when Hamish said no more. “And how long will it take McTiernay to rally his men and provide aid?” Amon pressed. “Or are they here already, taking shelter in the mountains?”

  For several seconds, Hamish did not answer. For most clans, it would take some time to mobilize and equip men for battle with arms and food. Conor, however, always had a couple hundred soldiers ready to fight and they could live off the land regardless of the time of year. But Hamish had no right to request Conor to lend him his men. McTiernays fought for McTiernays or their allies . . . not another guardsman who was born a MacBrieve. But even if bringing a few dozen McTiernay soldiers was the solution, the result would only be temporary. Ulrick would only return when they left. And Hamish would have thought Amon to have known that.

  Hamish took in a deep breath and shook his head. “None rode with me nor do I have intentions to ask for Conor for his help.”

  Amon studied Hamish and then grinned. “Fine by me as this situation requires not a McTiernay army, but McTiernay ingenuity.” Scooting to the edge of his chair, he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned closer. “You are too much like your father. You would not be here if you did not have a plan.”

  Hamish twitched his lips. Amon was right. He was like his father, plus he had lived with McTiernays too long to have come without at least one idea. “More likely two or three plans.”

  Amon shook his head, but his smile only grew. “Are you willing to share them?”

  Hamish snorted. “With you. Only you, though. But be careful, you might just be playing a role in one or two of them.”

  Amon threw up his arms and then with a nod toward his wife, said, “I’m willing but doubt I can be of any help now that I’m just a farmer.”

  “I cannot see you giving up the sword for a woman. Even one as lovely and kind as Lynnea.”

  Amon’s jaw tensed. “What Lynnea said earlier was true. I fell in love with her and her father did desire my help with the land as she was his only child. By marrying her, I inherited all that he had when he passed. But that had nothing to do with why I was forced to give up the life of being a warrior and Robert’s second-in-command.”

  Amon had Hamish’s full attention. “Forced? I would not think that was possible.”

/>   “I am not alone,” Amon said defensively. “Soon after Ulrick was named commander, none of your father’s trusted guard remained for very long. Ulrick intentionally alienated Robert’s loyalty, stating that men like me who desired to train and remain vigilant sought only war, not peace,” he scoffed, and Hamish knew why.

  Almost every man who had experienced the horrors of battle treasured peace above all things. They knew what sacrifices it took for their families to have that coveted peace in their lives. “Most of your father’s men litter the hills, away from Foinaven, trying to make a living off the land and keep their family fed.”

  Hamish was somewhat shocked by what Amon was saying. “If my brother still possesses the soft heart he had in his youth, there is no way he would have allowed Ulrick to force you or anyone else from their position, even if it was as part of the army.”

  “Situation forced us to leave. Robert gave no order, but he did not try to stop us either.”

  Hamish blinked, letting what Amon told him sink in. “Maybe Robert has changed more than I thought.”

  Amon shook his head and stood up to get some mead. Grabbing two mugs, he poured the honey wine into the cups and handed one to Hamish. “Robert has not changed. Your brother’s heart is the kind, conciliatory one as you remember, maybe even more so. Just look around tomorrow. You will see the numbers around Foinaven have grown enormously because of it. He accepts every clan and any Highlander who wishes to leech off the castle’s protection. How else do you think we ended up with Ulrick?”

  “I must admit I was wondering. I would have thought Robert to put you or someone like yourself as commander, not an outsider.”

  “Your brother cannot turn away a soul. They might not have anything to give in return and yet he stretches out a welcoming hand,” Amon stated, waving his arm about to emphasize his point. “It was not too bad, until a couple years ago. The last group was fairly unruly and refused to subscribe to clan rules. But instead of asking me to take my men and kick them off our lands, Robert decided to follow Ulrick’s advice and make him a co-commander, thinking that would elicit their loyalty.”

  Fool, Hamish thought, wishing he did not have his beard as he rubbed his jaw trying to relieve an itch. It was warm and served its purpose, but sometimes, it could be annoying and uncomfortable.

  Amon took a deep breath for control, then let it escape slowly. “It’s not that I don’t like Robert. Mo chreach, everyone likes both him and Lady MacBrieve. But that does not make him a capable leader.”

  “He must have some support from the people. Without it, a laird has no power. So if Robert’s still in charge, I have to assume he is leading in a way that most people desire, even if it is not to your or my preference.”

  “Mayhap. But I would argue people support what is easy and enables them to be lazy. Robert believes his position gives him loyalty, when in reality it gives him none. People will turn on him the moment they realize that his promises of security are empty. Right now they are under the illusion that Ulrick is strong, and therefore they are secure. But they don’t know Ulrick. Those like myself who were in your father’s guard, however, quickly understood Ulrick’s aspirations for power would not be satisfied. Our combined clan is large, but the army is far from powerful and it would never be strong under Robert’s leadership. It was not long before Ulrick realized that there were several of us who would not stand by and let him take advantage of Robert’s nature. So he carefully made it impossible for us to remain. One by one he maneuvered good men into leaving until I had no choice but to leave myself. And while I have no proof, I have no doubt that when Ulrick returns, your brother’s days of being in charge of this clan will be limited. Unless, that is, you know of a way to prevent him from doing so.”

  Hamish studied his old comrade for several seconds, thinking it very opportune they had met up before his arrival. He believed Amon, but what his old mentor had revealed meant the men who he knew to be loyal to his father were no longer near Foinaven, let alone part of the army. Such information changed what he was going to do, but not necessarily for the worse.

  “I have no intentions of letting Ulrick return to Foinaven in any permanent capacity. I know the man and what he is capable of,” Hamish confirmed out loud. Seeing the hopeful demeanor surge back into Amon, Hamish quickly added, “I’m here this time to make sure Robert understands how this situation came about and to give my birth clan a chance to rectify its mistakes in supporting such a man. But whatever remedy I choose to use against Ulrick will not keep another man like him from having the same aspirations. If Robert continues to lead in a way that jeopardizes his position with this clan, then he and this clan will find itself in jeopardy once again. And if that happens, I will not come nor will I feel guilty about staying away.”

  “I guess any hopes that your plan includes bolstering Robert’s leadership style are unlikely.”

  Hamish’s jaw tightened. “More than unlikely. Unrealistic.”

  Amon nodded in understanding. “Well, then, by the time a similar situation arises, I’ll have to pray that the clan can come together, understand that a benevolent leader is not necessarily a good one, and do what it must.” Amon sat back and blew out a long sigh. “Meanwhile, tell me of your plan and I hope it takes in consideration Robert’s leadership style. Your brother won’t be eager to support any plan that includes arms.”

  “I assume from your meaning Robert still believes talking with one’s enemy is the best method to elicit cooperation.”

  Amon nodded. “Aye. Personally, I like the idea of applying peaceable means to solve disputes. Costs less and involves no bloodshed. But only a fool talks without the willingness and the ability to fight. We have been fortunate since your father’s death and many clansmen have come to actually believe Robert’s benign approach works. When Ulrick returns, it is going to become clear that is not the case. Such weakness is going to be exploited. Even from those Robert considers friends and allies,” Amon finished, unable to suppress the sneer in his voice.

  “No allies, then?”

  Amon shook his head. “Not ones that can be relied on. The relationships haven’t been cultivated since the time of your father.”

  Hamish assumed as much and would have been surprised if any alliance still existed for what could Robert offer that would entice a powerful laird into an alliance?

  “The only nearby ally worth having would be the Mackays,” Amon continued, “and they are more apt to becoming an enemy.”

  Hamish grimaced. He had never met Laird Mackay, but the man was reported to be ruthless, powerful, and slow to trust anyone. An easily understood position based on their clan’s history. Mackay was not someone anyone wanted as a potential threat. Hamish needed to address Ulrick quickly before word spread of irresolute leadership at Foinaven.

  “Well, what you have imparted does change things a bit, but I believe for the better. The only thing I am concerned about is time.”

  Amon tapped his steepled fingers and stared at the ceiling as he listened to Hamish go over his plan. “Could work. Definitely not without your involvement, but with your name and reputation . . . it might. It does need time to put it together though and Ulrick’s return is hard to predict. He could be back next week or next month.”

  Hamish caught his friend’s eye and gave him an assured shake of the head. “Not as hard to predict as you would think.”

  “How so?”

  Hamish propped his right leg on his left knee and said, “The mercenaries Ulrick is seeking live where the money and action is. That’s along Scotland’s southern border. It’ll take time to find and then convince them to ride so far north on only the promise of getting paid.”

  Amon finished his drink. “The one way your brother was identical to your father was money. Both held incredibly tight to their purse. So the money Ulrick is promising exists. Convincing mercenaries to leave their life temporarily for easy coin and a better bed during the winter months may not be difficult.”

 
“True, but also consider what time of year it is and what you would do if you were Ulrick.”

  Amon’s blue eyes narrowed for a moment and then widened. “I’m an idiot. You are right. We do know when the bastard intends to be back.” The ride to the Lowlands to gather mercenary support that live near the border and return would take a little less than a month in the winter. More if the weather was bad, less if the weather was good.

  “Candlemas.”

  Amon nodded. The holiday took place two days into February and celebrated the presentation of Jesus. It also marked the beginning of the next planting season. “’Tis not a lot of time for what you plan to do. But it’s enough.”

  Hamish smiled and downed the contents of his mug, lifting it so that Amon could pour more mead into it. “Who knows? It might even be a little fun.”

  Amon nodded. “The most fun I will have had in some time.”

  Chapter Three

  Foinaven Castle

  Selah peered over her sister’s shoulder and out the window to the busy courtyard below. She softly clicked her tongue. “The crowds on market day have grown the past few months. Have they not? I’m surprised anyone can find what they are looking for.” She moved back to her chair to resume her needlepoint.

  Mairead smiled inwardly. Her sister would never outright say that she was wasting her time by trying to find a single person in the packed courtyard, but that is what she had meant. To all who met her, Selah was the kindest of souls, never having a reproach or an ill thought about anyone or anything. And while it was true that her sister was incapable of hurting anyone intentionally, to assume she was incapable of faultfinding was a serious misjudgment, for Selah harbored the same critical thoughts as anyone. She was just a master at repressing and rephrasing her honest opinion. It was the same with her husband, Robert, who led this motley band of clansmen. Neither of them could outright say a harsh word to someone, even if they had earned their scorn and disapproval.