Page 3 of Steel & Surrender

“There ye are. I hoped I’d find ye up here.” His brother carried a skin of ale under one arm and two wooden cups in his hand. “I thought ye’d enjoy a drop or two.”

“No one invited ye,” Greig muttered.

Ignoring him, Alistair climbed onto the terrace, set the cups on the wall, and poured them both some bramble wine.

“Ma’s finest. Drink up. It looks like ye need it.”

Greig took the cup, swallowed deeply, and welcomed the burn of the wine. Autumn’s last batch. Warmth spread through him, easing the chill in his limbs.

“It’s been a fine day, don’t ye think?” Alistair said.

Greig grunted.

“It’s good to see Maggie so happy,” his brother added.

That much was true. They all loved their cousin. She and Rab would remain at Duart, their new quarters waiting in the guardhouse near her parents. Family close at hand.

Once, Greig had cherished that closeness. Now it felt suffocating. The more concern his kin showed him, the angrier he grew.

Sensing his mood, Alistair fell quiet. He settled down onto a bench opposite and they drank as the sunset set the western sky ablaze. The ridge line of Beinn Talaidh rose in a massive stone curtain against the firelit horizon.

At last, Alistair cleared his throat. “I shall climb Ben More one day, ye know? I’ve made myself a promise.”

Greig snorted. That admission had come out of nowhere. However, his brother still stared west. Mull’s largest peak lay in that direction, hidden by Beinn Talaidh. Years ago, he’d thought he might climb Ben More too. Before the war. Before the blade to his leg.

“Well then, ye should,” he replied. “Time passes swiftly. Opportunities must be seized … or they’re gone.”

Bitterness crept into the words.

Alistair shifted his attention from the horizon, studying him. “I’ve made a list,” he said finally. “Climbing Ben More is just one of the challenges I’ve set myself.”

Greig cocked an eyebrow. “A list?”

“Aye.” He pulled a folded scroll from his jerkin. “Finished it yesterday.”

“Let me see.” Greig couldn’t help it; his interest was well and truly piqued.

Alistair pulled a face. “Some things should be kept private.”

“Come on,” Greig pressed. “Brighten my day.”

His brother hesitated, and then, murmuring an oath, he handed it over. “Say nothing to Ma or Da … or Davy.”

“I won’t.” Greig unfurled the scroll.

The first item came as no surprise: Climb Ben More.

The second did though: Swim across the Sound of Mull. Alistair had always been the weakest swimmer of the three brothers.

“Ye’d better make sure one of us rows alongside ye, if ye plan to swim across the Sound,” Greig said with a rueful shake of his head.

“I’m no fool,” Alistair replied stiffly.

Greig read on. Spend a night in Tobermory and drink so much ye remember nothing the next morning.

He snorted. “Getting rotten drunk shouldn’t be hard.”

“Maybe not,” Alistair admitted with an embarrassed smile. “But I’ve never had such a night.”