Page 8 of Highland Sky

“Welcome, MacKeefes,” called out a man who came limping over to greet them. He had a wooden crutch under one arm.

“God’s eyes, this is bad,” North said in a low voice, as the three MacKeefes got their first glimpse at the damage done by the Sutherlands.

“Aye, it has devastated us all. I’m Ciaran MacKenzie, chieftain of the clan,” said the man. A crowd of people cautiously approached, mostly women, children, and older men.

“I am Aidan MacKeefe, and these are my friends, Nash and North.” Aidan nodded to the others. His red squirrel sat perched atop his shoulder, so steady that Nash wondered if the thing was even real.

“I thank ye for comin’. Please, join us.” The chieftain held out his arm. “We dinna have much to offer, but all that we have is yers.”

Aidan dismounted and so did North.

Nash sat atop his horse, eyeing up the women of the clan, wondering which of them he was going to have to marry. He had just dismounted when he felt a prick at his back that was the unmistakable tip of a sword.

Without asking questions, he drew his blade, spinning around on his heel, ready to take off the man’s head. His sword clashed with another. He was ready for a fight, until he realized it was a beautiful young woman who sparred with him. She wore a tunic and breeches instead of a skirt, looking more like an Englishman than either a woman or man of a Highland clan. He stopped, not wanting to hurt the lass. When he did, she knocked the sword out of his hand and to the ground.

Nash heard Aidan and North behind him drawing their swords, ready to defend him.

“What the hell is this?” growled North.

“I thought we were makin’ an alliance,” ground out Aidan. “Is this some sort of trick, MacKenzie?”

“Kellina, stop that!” shouted Ciaran. Aidan’s squirrel squeaked and ran down Aidan’s arm and between the chieftain’s legs, almost knocking him down before it darted across camp. The man used his crutch to right himself and keep from falling.

“It’s no problem.” Nash quickly snatched the blade out of the girl’s hand before she even knew what happened. Now he held the tip of the girl’s own sword to her chest. “However, if ye’re goin’ to play that kind of game, lass, be damned sure ye’re ready for the consequences.”

“Nay. Enough of this. We have enough trouble and dinna need more.” Ciaran hobbled over and held out his hand to Nash. “Will ye forgive my niece for her foolishness? I’m afraid she’s just still a little spooked after the Sutherland raid. She was never goin’ to hurt ye, and didna mean anythin’ by it.”

Nash’s eyes went to his brother and then Aidan. They both nodded slightly and sheathed their swords.

“I think it’s the girl who should be beggin’ for my forgiveness for her foolishness,” said Nash. “Still, I will accept yer sincere apology, Laird MacKenzie.” He handed the sword hilt first to the laird, then bent down to scoop up his own. The girl’s foot atop his blade stopped him. Nash clenched his teeth and looked up at her. “Still no’ done playin’ yer doitit games, Wench?”

“Dinna call me Wench! Take yer sword if ye want it. I dinna care.” She moved her foot and kicked at the blade, causing dirt to fly up and get in Nash’s eyes.

Nash gripped the hilt of his sword and sprang to his feet, wiping his eyes with his free hand. This girl was nothing but trouble and she was trying his patience. He didn’t care if she was bonnie, or that she was the niece of the chieftain, she needed to learn her place.

“Brathair, nay,” warned North in a low voice, grabbing his arm tightly, not letting him touch the girl even though a good swift kick on the doup is just what she needed. “We are here for an alliance,” his brother reminded him. “Dinna mess this up or ye’ll never finish yer sentence.”

“Ye’re right.” Nash nodded and sheathed his sword. “I’m supposed to marry a lass from this clan to finalize the deal and make our alliance.” He looked from one young girl to the next, since a huge crowd surrounded them now. “So, Laird MacKenzie, which one is it who will be my bride?” All the girls of the clan dropped their gazes to the ground or looked the other way. “Which of these fine young lassies is goin’ to have the pleasure of marryin’ me?”

“It’s me,” said the girl who’d tried to hurt him. “However, I sincerely doubt it will be a pleasure. As a matter of fact, I’m sure bein’ married to ye will be naught but hell.” She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Aye. Ye are to marry my niece,” the chieftain explained.

“Damn,” Nash swore under his breath, willing to accept anyone right now other than her. This was going to be a lifelong sentence! The worst part was his guard in this temporary prison was this hellion who’d tried to stab him. Now, sadly, this same wench would be with him for the rest of his life.

*

Kellina perused theman she was to marry, not liking the fact at all that he was a MacKeefe. Still, she realized that to break the betrothal would ruin the alliance with a strong clan like them. It might only bring about another battle, and that was something she couldn’t risk. Her clan was weakened, and missing many of their strong warriors right now. They never would survive. Not now, at least. Mayhap when the rest of their men returned from the trade fair they’d have half a chance but, by then, it would be too late.

She probably shouldn’t have pricked the man’s back with her sword, but she couldn’t help herself. It was only sheer will that kept her from running it right through his heart. Her anger was growing stronger, and she hated to admit to herself that mayhap she was losing control. After a good meal and a full night’s rest, perhaps she’d see things differently. She hoped.

The man was handsome enough, but that still didn’t make up for the fact that he was a MacKeefe. He had long, brown hair and hazel eyes that seemed as if they could look right through her. His appearance was very similar to one of the other men that was with him. This one was just a little shorter.

“Which one are ye? North or South?” she asked him, having heard Aidan say their names, but not being sure which was which. She knew damned well that South wasn’t one of the names, but only did it to irk him.

“I’m North,” the taller one spoke up. “The one ye’re marryin’ is my twin . . . South.” Both he and Aidan chuckled.

“Haud yer wheesht, ye fool,” said her betrothed, glaring at his brother. “I’m Nash,” he told her. “And ye’d be best to remember my name since ye’re soon to be my wife.”