Knight of the Highlander (22 page)

Arywnn's eyes had grown large as the men began to come in to the clearing, but Colin had placed his hand on her leg, drawing her attention and lending her strength. These were men to be trusted. She nodded at him as understanding dawned.

"Men. I thank you for your assistance. With any luck, you'll not need to risk your lives this night. We must work with our element of surprise and address the clan's new Chief Rian, and issue our challenge. As you know, my wife," Colin gestured to Arywnn, "is the legitimate heir to Clan Chattan. As her husband, I would become chief. In doing this, I serve both Scotland and England as I endeavor to eliminate the risk for war because of the Jacobite sympathiers. There has been enough bloodshed. Rian seeks to lead another campaign against the King of England. This we cannot allow. He has made it known in the highlands that all those who oppose English rule are welcome in Clan Chattan. The highlands will know no peace or rest till this new threat is eliminated.

"Tonight we will make our presence known, and I'll issue the challenge for the Chieftainship. The rest, we leave in God's hands."

****

As the afternoon bled into evening, Arywnn paced the length of the small outcropping. Soldiers continued to scout for any members of Clan Chattan that might take notice of their presence before it was warranted. A few men sparred in the middle, honing their skills, and Colin continued to speak in low tones with the commanding officers, no doubt planning their strategy.

She exhaled a heavy breath. While part of her was thrilled that the time of reckoning was not upon them, another portion of her wanted fly through the next hours to simply know how this would end. She held the few precious memories in Colin's arms close to her heart as fear chilled her. Her memories served to warm her, but only slightly, as nervous energy kept her from being able to remain still.

"You'll surely wear your feet tae the bone if you don't cease, wife." Colin shook his head, clicking his tongue in scolding manner, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

"Tis better than sitting on a rock frettin'," Arywnn returned a bit too sharply.

Colin's eyebrows rose. "Ah, so you'll wear a hole in the earth instead?" he asked, his eyebrows rose in challenge.

"Aye." Arywnn nodded, tipping her chin up defiantly.

"Fear is overcoming you, love."

"Aye, but I dinnae' ken to stop it," Arywnn confided, burying her head in her husband's chest, and inhaling the spicy smoke and cedar scent clinging to him.

"You can't stop it, but you can be stronger than it. Don't let it control your thoughts, your actions. Realize the fear is there but don't succumb to it. Remember your strength. Remember mine," he whispered as he drew up her hand and kissed it softly. Gone was the soft skin on his face that had tenderly brushed against her on that first night they were man and wife. Colin had let his beard grow since that day. Arywnn, as much as she enjoyed the smooth texture for a time, had missed the stubble on his chin as it brushed against her skin whenever they kissed. Even now, shivers of delight danced up her back as his prickly face rubbed the flesh of her wrist. His gaze bore into hers, silently vowing he'd not abandon her.

How she prayed it was true.

For if they lost, it was certain she would wish for death. 'Twould be the kinder of two evils; the first evil being Rian himself.

Colin's voice scattered her dark thoughts. "Come let us eat, and then we must leave. It's nearly time."

Arywnn nodded, and followed her husband to a log where they sat. Indeed, for the moment, time was not their ally and she would soak up every moment of her husband's attention till the time of the first sword's clash.

****

Colin had every man wait at the forest just beyond the gate. At his signal, they were to light a torch they had with them, notifying the clan that they were not alone. Arywnn stood behind a large warrior who looked every bit the Highland Scot, but who spoke with the cleanest English accent she'd ever heard. She shook her head against the contrast, and focused on Colin as she rode up the closed gate leading to the Chattan keep.

"I would speak with yer Chief," Colin called out in a thick brogue.

Arywnn's skin prickled with warmth at hearing the brogue in his voice. All the memories of Colin the blacksmith flooded back to her, causing a smile to peek through in spite of the tension that had her shoulders tight.

"Aye, and who be askin'?" one of the guards called out.

"I have the Laird's daughter. I heard there was tae be a reward for the lass," Colin called out.

There was shouting for the gate to be opened, and Arywnn released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her greatest fear was that they would recognize him and pierce his heart with an arrow before he even had a chance to speak.

The gate opened, but Colin didn't move.

A warrior came out and met with him. He gestured to the gate, and Arywnn saw Colin shake his head. This was all part of the plan, to draw out Rian, rather than surround Colin with potential assassins.

Would Rian come? Would the lure of Arywnn be enough for him to leave his evening meal and come out to meet Colin? This was the one part of the plan that Arywnn was most doubtful in its ability to work. After all, she didn't think herself much of a lure.

She was surprised when a few minutes later a man walked out of the gate followed by five warriors. Immediately she recognized the swagger, noting that it was far more pronounced. Rian had come.

Exhaling softly, she leaned forward, wishing she were closer so that she could hear what was being said.

****

Colin kept to the shadows, keeping his face hidden and his voice well enough disguised. His heart pounded, but he willed it to still as he saw Rian emerge.

It was as he thought.

Rian would not rouse himself from his evening meal to meet a stranger outside the gates if his position as the new chief were solid. No. If he felt confident in his position, he would have simply ordered the guards to beat the man into submission and bring him to the dining hall. Rian was indeed desperate to tighten his hold as the chief. He needed Arywnn's hand to lend him that legitimacy. Yes, Colin was learning much.

"Ye have the lass?" Rian's voice was unmistakable.

"Are ye the Laird?" Colin asked.

"Aye. I am. I'd have my wife back." Rian spoke with a growl to his tone letting Colin know he had limited patience.

"Yer wife? I dinnae' ken the wench was yer wife," Colin mumbled, pretending to glance about uncertainly.

"Aye… what have ye done with her?"

"She's safe, dinnae' worry."

"I want her. Now. Bring her tae me."

"Tis a small matter first," Colin spoke carefully. He had drawn out the conversation intentionally. Even now he stalled just a few moments longer. He noticed the guards on the wall were beginning to gather, and a few more were lingering at the gate, curiosity stealing their attention. It was as he hoped. The more to witness what was about to happen, the better.

"The reward? I'll see ye are paid, I give me word," Rian spoke through clenched teeth.

"Nay, 'tisn' the reward…" Colin said. "Ye see, the lass… she dinnae' think she's married to ye."

"She always was a daft one. 'Twill be glad ye'll be tae have her out o' yer care." Rian took a step closer.

"I can't say that… ye see…" Colin signaled behind his back. Silently he watched the faces of the men in front of him. Slowly alarm began to register on their faces.

"What's the meaning of this?" Rian surged forward, pulling out his dagger.

"I challenge your claim of Laird, Rian of Chattan!" Colin called out, loudly enough for all on the wall, and within, to hear.

"On what authority, what claim have you on my right as Laird?" Rian sneered but there was a tightening in his eyes that belied his concern.

"On my wife's birthright," Colin pulled back his cloak and revealed himself.

"Ye!" Rian came at him with his dagger drawn, a primal roar piercing the air.

"Then ye accept my challenge," Colin stated as he ducked under Rian's assault.

"Nay! Never," Rian ground out and attacked again. He lifted his dagger up as if to strike but swung with his other hand, and landed a blow to Colin's midsection.

Colin coughed against the hit, but stood strong, evaluating his opponent. Rian circled him even as a crowd gathered. Shouts rang out in the courtyard and on the wall but Colin filtered them out, focusing on Rian and Rian alone.

"If ye don't accept my challenge, why fight?" Colin taunted.

"For the thrill of seein' yer blood spill all over the ground."

"When I kill ye, I'll be chief."

"Ye bloody bastard," he swore, hatred dripping from his tone.

"I'm no bastard," Colin spoke lowly, his brogue thick. Quickly, he advanced upon Rian slashing across his midsection, but Rian withdrew and saved his skin except for a minor slash across his chest that presently seeped red blood onto his tunic.

"Ye'll pay for that, and for taking the wench." He swung the dagger at Colin's head, but Colin ducked and landed a mighty blow to Rian's midsection causing him to double over. In a moment he had swung down his powerful fists on Rian's exposed back, collapsing him to the dirt. Rian rolled away and bounded upright. He advanced on Colin again, this time drawing out his claymore.

Colin withdrew his as well, wielding the long and heavy weapon against Rian's. The resulting clash echoed through the forest. Again and again they struck blades, blow for blow till Colin attacked and advanced, causing Rian to falter. Seeing the opportunity to strike, Colin slashed the flesh open on Rian's left arm.

Rian roared in pain.

But it didn't dull the red fury in his eyes as he, heedless of the pain, struck Colin's leg, ripping through the fabric of his plaid and meeting flesh.

Colin winced, the pain like a fiery poker from the forge searing his flesh, but his determination didn't falter.

"Ye may pretend tae be a ghost, but ye bleed like a man!" Rian charged.

Colin deflected the blow and stumbled, his leg heavy from the injury. "Aye, I'm no ghost, when I beat ye bloody 'twill be my very solid fists enjoying the labor!" Colin shouted, feeling a smirk edge to his lips at the narrowing of Rian's eyes. He needed to have Rian's rage blinding, eliminating his keen sense of battle and thwarting his concentration. Colin continued to malign him, watching the fury rise in his eyes.

"Ye aren't fit tae be chief. Ye cannae' even fight well."

"Well enough tae make ye bleed!" Rian shouted defiantly, aggressing against Colin.

"A wee scratch," Colin gibed, shaking his head as if pitying Rian's poor attempt at besting him.

"Ye!" Rian shouted and advanced, but his anger had made him slightly off-balance and Colin took the opportunity to slash deep into his back, causing the injured Highlander to roar in pain. He turned, a feral widening of his eyes as he lunged. Colin stepped to the side, barely missing Rian's dagger as it came at his shoulder.

Stumbling, Rian struggled to right himself. "Ye betrayed us all. Dinnae' think that we dinnae' ken who ye are, Blacksmith. It was ye that was the traitor!" he shouted, his voice high pitched and shrill in his desperation. He stumbled backward, his eyes scanning the wall behind Colin, no doubt trying to rally his clan to arms.

But this was a challenge. The clan would wait to see the outcome.

"Aye. I did come tae watch yer clan. But t'was ye that brought down yer clan, and gave it over tae the English's wrath! Openin' yer gates tae the likes of Jacobites? Welcomin' those who oppose the King? Did ye want the English tae come and slaughter yer women and children? Are ye, Rian, strong enough tae fight off the English army? Nay! Tis yer folly! Your arrogance almost cost yer clan their lives!" Colin shouted, advancing on Rian, a burning in his chest that continued to rise as he came closer and closer.

Rian's gaze darted about like a wild and caged animal. "Nay, tis the English that cause this! Pillaging our country! Would ye have us remain like dead dogs and do nothing?" Rian snarled while circling Colin.

"Nay, I'd have the clan live peacefully. Not try tae stir up trouble like ye have done!"

"I am chief and Laird!" Rian shouted a moment before swinging his claymore in an arch destined for Colin's neck. But Colin swung his as well, piercing Rian's exposed belly. Rian's claymore landed with a thud on the soft earth as the man began to sputter and sway, finally landing on his knees, then falling to his back. Colin cautiously watched his opponent for any swift movement that could mean a dagger thrown in his direction.

But Rian was still.

Slowly, the men of the clan began to circle Colin. Their gazes were unreadable. Though he had his contingent near, if any one of clansmen attacked Colin, the rest of the clan would join in, leaving him severely outnumbered and likely dead before any of his own men could reach him to offer aid. He breathed deeply, calming the wild pounding of his heart and studied the faces of the men surrounding him.