Page 4 of Steel & Surrender

Greig raised a brow. His brother’s revelation showed a new side to him. Alistair wasn’t as confident as he seemed.

Considering this, Greig lowered his gaze back to the list. Ride non-stop across Mull from Duart to The Western Cliffs. His mouth curved faintly. That would be exhilarating.

Then: Win a strength contest at a Highland Games.

Of course, Alistair was a fine rider and had won many horse races at games, but never a strength contest. He could understand why his brother welcomed the challenge.

Finally, he reached the sixth and last item on the list—and this one gave him pause.

Win the Forge Maiden’s heart.

Greig frowned. “The Forge Maiden? Ye mean Brìghde Boyd?” He spoke of the mannish young woman who ran her father’s forge. “Why the devil would ye want to win her?”

Alistair snatched the list back. “Brìghde is lovely,” he snapped. “It’s not my fault if her charms are lost on the likes of ye.”

Their gazes locked, and Greig marked the glint in his brother’s eyes.

Cods. He was soft on her.

“So, ye’ll do all this?” he asked after a pause, deciding he wouldn’t push things.

Alistair’s expression turned stubborn. “Aye.”

“They’re good goals … except the last.”

Alistair snorted and took a large swallow of wine before answering, “What happened to ye taught me not to waste youth.”

Greig tensed. “Indeed,” he murmured, cutting his gaze away to where the first stars now appeared in an indigo sky.

The two brothers drank in silence for a while after that, each lost in their own thoughts.

Alistair planning how he’d complete his list.

Greig brooding upon the cruel hand fate had dealt him.

“Promise me something, Greig,” Alistair said eventually, turning to him.

They’d consumed two more cups of wine, and his brother swayed slightly, his voice slurring a little too.

Greig glanced his way, irritated by the intrusion. “What?”

“If I die before I finish the list … ye’ll complete it.”

Greig snorted. “What rot, Al. Ye’ll live to a ripe old age.”

“Promise me.” Alistair’s expression turned fierce.

Greig sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to argue. If he agreed, his brother would let this foolish matter rest. They were both drunk, and by tomorrow, it would be forgotten. “All right … I promise.”

2: BEYOND THE MIST

Two months later …

BRÌGHDE HAD JUST started work for the day when her suitor came calling.

The charcoal had been lit, and she’d got the fire going to just the right heat so that it glowed bright gold, illuminating the shadowy forge. She rose early in the mornings, earlier than the rest of her family, leaving their bothy while the others slept and walking the few yards to her forge. She loved this time of day, the quietness of it.

She was making hinges at present for the new oaken doors the clan-chief was having fitted in Duart Castle. These were far more ornate than the hinges she usually made for the folk of Duart village, a chance to show a little bit of artistry in her work.