Highland Moonlight (37 page)

“‘Tis a danger to you and the bairn to come between the two of them,

Mary,” he warned.

“Mary chooses who she will tend, not I,” Alexander said as the two

began to circle each other. “I do not force her to do anything.”

“For certes you put an end to that when you forced your bairn upon

her,” Gavin taunted. “The child is the only reason Mary serves you now,

Campbell. She will abide any insult to remain with it, as well you know. “

Alexander’s features took on a hard look; his gold eyes gleamed with

rage. “Enough!” He tossed the joint of meat back onto the table. It landed

with a soft thump amidst the partially filled trenchers. “You have wanted a

fight since first we met, MacLachlan, you may have it.” He flicked his fingers

motioning for Gavin to attack if he dared.

Gavin though smaller in stature, was agile and quick, but he lacked

the experience of a seasoned warrior. Alexander, taller and heavier, and

with much more fighting experience, easily had the advantage. The blood

lust Mary read in both their faces promised only grief for all. She wiggled

and twisted against Duncan’s restraining grip and finally raised her arm

where he grasped it and sank her teeth into his wrist. He jerked his hand

back with an oath, releasing her.

Just as the two opponents tensed to spring forward at each other,

Mary stepped between them. “Cease,” she shouted loud enough to be

heard above the taunting chorus of encouragement the men had begun to

call out.

“Mary!” Anne’s voice, raised in anxious warning, came from behind

her.

“Move, Woman!” Alexander roared.

“Do you mean to hide behind a woman’s skirts, Campbell?” Gavin

sneered.

“‘Tis you she’s protecting, fool,” Alexander said.

Badly frightened by how close she had come to being crushed by the

two of them, Mary’s brow grew moist with sweat and her heart beat heavily

against her ribs. She clenched the fabric of her surcoat to still the trembling

of her hands. “If ‘tis in defense of my honor the two of you will fight, ‘tis I who

deserve the right to choose the weapons, and the place at which the battle

will be fought.”

Alexander’s gaze leaped to her face in surprise. Gavin straightened

from his half-crouched stance, his expression a mirror of his opponents.

Mary’s gaze moved from Alexander’s features to her brother’s then

back again. “Will you agree to my wish?”

Alexander folded his arms before him, his gaze locked on her,

unreadable and still.

She prayed he would agree. She could not prevent them from fighting,

but she could possibly prevent them from damaging each other overmuch.

Her gaze met her husband’s.

“Aye,” Alexander said, his tone flat.

Gavin nodded reluctantly.

“Since the two of you have already seen fit to disrupt our meal, you may

prepare to fight as soon as we have finished eating. A full belly will not

hinder either of you, will it?”

“Nay,” Gavin answered.

She nodded. “Since ‘twas you who has persisted in causing strife at

our table, I would ask you to finish your meal elsewhere, Gavin.”

His features tightened in renewed rage, his hands fisting at his sides.

“How much more are you willing to abide to keep the peace, Mary? Will you

allow him to rob you of your pride as well as your honor?”

She flinched from the words as quick tears burnt her eyes.

She held Alexander back when he stepped forward intent on coming to

her defense in a more physical manner.

“Enough, Gavin,” Anne stepped forward. “‘Tis you, now, who dishonors

Mary by attacking her before this company.”

“Will you too be taking his side agin me, Anne?” he demanded.

“‘Tis Mary’s side I will be standing on, Gavin,” she retorted. “Agin the

both of you.”

He backed away with a snort and stormed back up the stairs of the

great hall.

After a lengthy pause, the men began to return to their seats. Uncertain

of her composure, Mary avoided looking directly at anyone as she returned

to her place at the head table. When she could bring herself to look at

Alexander, it was to find him studying her, his features harsh, his amber

gaze alight with some emotion she could not decipher.

They finished the meal in silence.

****

tables in the great hall along the walls of the structure leaving the central

part of the floor open for the fight that would soon ensue.

He had been stunned at Mary’s desire to see them do battle. Did she

still harbor some need for revenge against him? Was that the reason she

had proclaimed the right to choose the place and the weapons for such an

event? He felt as though he had been kicked in the chest by a horse, so

deep was the pain of her betrayal. He had thought himself forgiven,

accepted, no matter how uncertain he had been of the depth of her

affections. He had been wrong.

If he were forced to kill her brother, how then would she feel about

him? Or did she believe Gavin had a chance to defeat him? Which one of

them did she hope would survive?

His gaze traveled restlessly about the room. His attention fell on Gavin

as he stood by the fireplace at one end of the room. The lad looked pale, but

composed, his features under careful control. His lips looked swollen and

red and his chin misshapen and blue with a bruise.

He did not doubt Gavin had courage, but he allowed his anger and

pride to rule his actions. He had yet to acquire the patience or the prudence

of a seasoned warrior. It would be a shame to see his young life end after

only a score of years.

Fergus appeared from the back entrance of the room. With a lump of

charcoal, he drew two lines on the stone floor. The black marks traveled

from one end of the room to the other a fair distance apart.

Alexander had only time to wonder what he was about when Duncan

strode forward to stand at the center of the room. His features set in somber

lines, he motioned for Alexander and Gavin to join him.

“Alexander Campbell, you have come before this company to fight in

defense of your honor and the honor of Mary Campbell, your wife.”

Surprised by the formality of the proceedings he nodded. “Aye, I have.”

“Gavin MacLachlan, you have come before this company to fight in

defense of your sister’s honor and your own.”

“Aye, I have.”

“The rules of engagement shall be—”

The men who lined the room drew closer.

“You may not cross the lines drawn at the center of the floor. All

weapons must be used only once and cannot be retrieved to be used

again. The first to draw blood will be declared the winner and all hostilities

shall cease betwixt you.” Duncan’s gaze traveled from one man’s face to the

other. “Will you agree to this and speak an oath to that before this

company?”

So, this one battle was to bring an end their differences. Alexander

looked to the younger man. He could not see the hatred the lad held for him

ending so easily. If he lived.

“Aye,” he nodded, “I will pledge my oath.”

“Aye,” Gavin said impatiently, his pale blue eyes, so much like his

sisters, gleaming with excitement. “I too will pledge.”

“The weapon Lady Mary has chosen shall be—” Duncan paused for

effect, “platters.”

A deafening silence fell across the crowd, then a roar of laughter

echoed through the chamber as the men gave vent to their amusement.

“What jest is this? Platters!” Gavin exclaimed. “They are not weapons.”

“Aye, they are in your sister’s hands,” Alexander said, fighting the urge

to grin.

Gavin turned away with a look of disgust.

Several servants converged on the hall laden with stacks of wooden

platters and bowls.

Alexander watched as Mary entered the room behind them. She

crossed the hall and made her way to the stairway leading to the gallery

above. She took cover behind the banister railing, one step above her sister.

Alexander stepped to the stack of wooden platters of all shapes and

sizes. He chose a small oval, on which butter was usually served and

hefted it in his hand. The men scattered for cover behind the tables that

lined the walls.

“Let us see if we may have better aim than your sister, Gavin,” he

challenged. With a graceful flip of his wrist, the platter flew across the room

with the speed of an arrow.

Gavin jerked to one side avoiding being hit by a narrow margin. A

smile twisted his lips and he laughed. “If that is the best you may offer, ‘twill

be a short fight, Campbell.” He wasted no time arming himself with one of

the wooden disks.

The two began to throw the unlikely weapons at one another with

dizzying speed. The force at which the wood struck the stone walls of the

hall sent splinters flying in all directions, peppering the floor and the men’s

clothing and hair.

Alexander hurled a large meat tray with a spinning fling. It sailed

through the air to collide in mid-flight with a lighter weight bowl. Chunks of

wood from the smaller vessel bombarded the group of men behind one of

the large tables. A brief cry of pain and an oath followed. The tray landed

with a heavy thump on the table then slid off one side striking something

with a meaty whack.

“Take greater care Alexander lest we have nothing to eat our hodge-

podge from on the morrow, nor anyone left to eat it,” Tobias called out.

Gavin spun another bowl in his direction. Alexander batted it away with

a large serving bowl he held like a shield. He cast a small vessel in

retaliation. The dish struck Gavin in the top of the head with a loud pop and

a brief exclamation of pain escaped him.

“From the sound of it, there may be nothing betwixt your ears, but a

hollow skull,” Alexander taunted, then quickly danced out of the way of a

rectangular tray that spun a wobbly path past him to strike the wall. A corner

broke off, flipping through the air dangerously close to his face.

Momentarily distracted by the flying debris, he did not see, but heard

the whirl of the large platter just before it struck the floor at his feet. He

leaped in an attempt to avoid it, but the momentum of the disk thrust his feet

from beneath him. He twisted and fell, hitting the stone floor buttocks first

with a jarring impact, his teeth snapping shut with a loud click.

“I can see ‘twas not for your grace my sister wed you, Campbell,”

Gavin said, laughing openly.

His backside numb from the blow, Alexander reached for the first

weapon at hand and slung it backhanded as he attempted to get to his feet.

The small round dish caught Gavin squarely on the knee and he

yelped in pain and grabbed the injury as he hopped on one foot.

“I do not know you were a dancer, Gavin. ‘Twill impress the lasses at

the next feast,” Alexander quipped through gritted teeth as he regained his

feet. He felt the after effects of the fall from his backside to the top of his

head. Turning his pain aside, he reached for a large bowl.

Gavin, red of face and favoring his leg, armed himself with one as well.

Hampered by his injured knee, he could not move as quickly as before and

thus was an easier target. Alexander managed to clip his arm with the

weighty container then dodged away when Gavin retaliated with his own.

They exchanged several throws that missed. Alexander loosed a thin

wooden platter skimming Gavin’s brow before he could duck away. A fine

stream of blood poured forth down the lad’s cheek to his chin.

Mary was on her feet at once crying, “Cease! Blood has been struck.”

Alexander strode toward his opponent and guiding his arm over the

back of his neck, he offered the other man support.

“I do not know if I could be so gracious a winner, Campbell,” Gavin

said, accepting his help. “But I have given my oath and I’ll abide by it, for

Mary’s sake.”

The men rose and came forth in mass to thump the two of them on the

back and congratulate them both on a battle well fought.

Mary and Anne thrust their way to the center of the crowd bearing

basins and cloths to tend Gavin’s injures as a chair was brought forth for

him to sit.

“How do you fare, Alexander?” Mary asked. Anne began wiping away

the blood on Gavin’s cheek.

“I am no worse than I deserve to be, for letting my guard down,” he

said with a rueful grin as he rubbed his bruised backside.

She brushed away the splinters of wood from his shoulders and hair.

“I fear my injuries may have to be tended in private, Mary,” he

murmured close to her ear. A bright blush stained her cheeks.

****

in pleasure as Mary’s fingers found the spot along his spine where a dull