The Highlander Series (93 page)

“Aye, I agree. It won’t be an easy task.”

Caelen grinned at his commander. “You said you desired a new challenge.”

Gannon shot him a disgruntled look. “When I said that, whipping an entire army into shape wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Caelen sighed. “Nor is it what I had in mind either. ’Tis the truth I don’t even know where to begin. The task before us is overwhelming in its enormity.”

Gannon laid a hand on Caelen’s shoulder. “A more able taskmaster I’ve never met. ’Tis the truth if anyone can do it, you can.”

Caelen scanned the sparring warriors and grimaced. He hoped Gannon was right. The next weeks would be grueling, and his only chance of success was in gaining the cooperation of his new clan.

So far no one had greeted him with anything but reserve and suspicion.

“Find Simon and Arlen,” he ordered Gannon. “I’ll be in the hall waiting.”

As he strode into the keep, he glanced at the serving women scurrying to and fro, in the midst of their chores. He searched for his wife but didn’t see her. But then neither did he spot Sarah, who’d promised to take Rionna under her wing and guide her with a gentle hand.

He entered the hall to find it barren. He frowned, knowing it was close to time for the noon meal. There
was no activity to suggest such a thing was forthcoming. No fire burned in the hearth. No smells emanated from the kitchens. No places had been set at the table.

He didn’t even know the name of someone to summon to answer his questions. In disgust, he left the hall and walked in the direction of distant voices.

When he entered the room he could only suppose was where the women did the washing, he found his wife in a state of agitation, her hands on her hips and her face red as she stared back at Sarah.

The dress she wore was fine, if a bit worn. The bodice was a little—a lot—too tight and Rionna’s supple breasts pushed up and over the embroidered neckline. She looked … beautiful. Dainty and feminine. He was hard-pressed to place her in the scruffy men’s clothing, with a dirt-smeared face, shapeless bosom, and hair tightly plastered to her head.

She looked every inch the elegant mistress of the keep. She rivaled Mairin and Keeley in beauty and form.

That was until she opened her mouth and cut loose with a string of blasphemies he was certain had never crossed his sisters-in-law’s mouths.

She was still cursing when she turned and saw him standing in the doorway. Her lips snapped shut and she glared at him as if peeved over his intrusion. He lifted one eyebrow when no request for pardon came forth.

Her palms dug deeper into her hips as she stared him down. Her eyes flashed, an odd mixture of amber and gold.

“Are you coming to check up on me, husband?”

His lips tightened and he pinned her with a glare of his own.

“I came to find out why no meal is being served in the great hall. It’s past the time for the noon meal. The soldiers have already put in a hard day’s work and will be hungry. As am I.”

Rionna stared at him, her brows drawn together in puzzlement. The other women stared at him as well, as if he’d said something utterly ridiculous.

Sarah was the first to speak. She glanced at Rionna and then took a step forward. “We don’t serve a meal at noon, Laird.”

He frowned again. “Any particular reason why not? ’Tis important for the men to eat. Their strength must be kept up, especially now that they’ll be training even harder.”

Rionna cleared her throat. “What she’s so delicately trying to say is that we don’t have the food. We break our fast with bread and cheese, when we have it to spare, and we end the day with whatever we’ve been able to hunt.”

“And when the hunt isn’t successful?”

“We don’t eat,” she said simply.

He shook his head. None of this made sense. The McDonalds might not be the best trained when it came to the might of their army, but they’d always been a well-placed clan.

“Your father wagered my brother three months’ worth of food from his stores.”

“He didn’t have it to wager,” Rionna said bitterly. “He left us with nothing to eat and no coin to trade with other clans.”

Caelen bit back a blaspheme of his own. “Show me your larder.”

With a shrug, Rionna turned and walked down the hallway away from the great hall and past the kitchens to a small, airless chamber. He walked in and glanced around, his stomach sinking as he took in the empty shelves.

If possible, the McDonald clan was in poorer circumstances than his own clan had been before his brother married Mairin.

“This is unacceptable,” he gritted out. “The clan must eat.”

“We’re used to surviving on little,” Rionna said matter-of-factly. “ ’Tis our way of life for some years now.”

“Was your father a complete wastrel?” he demanded.

“My father was only concerned with his own comfort and filling his own belly.”

“ ’Tis a wonder you haven’t been invaded long before now,” Caelen said in disgust. “You certainly would have been an easy conquest.”

Rionna’s mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed in fury. “ ’Tis your clan you speak of with such disdain.”

“Nay, ’tis not my clan I have such disdain for. ’Tis your father. ’Tis a sin for a man not to provide for his clan. Do your children go hungry as well? And what of your old and the sick?”

Rionna gave a weary sigh. “ ’Tis no use venting your outrage, husband. The man to whom you have need to direct your anger is not here. My clan has suffered long enough. We don’t deserve your censure.”

Caelen blew out his breath in disgust and turned to stalk from the room.

“Where do you go?” she called after him.

“Hunting,” he bit out.

“Change the order,” Caelen said to Gannon when he found his commander in the courtyard. “Have Simon and Arlen pick their best hunters and pack the horses.”

Gannon looked at him curiously but went immediately to do his laird’s bidding.

A moment later, Gannon returned with a small group of warriors.

“We go hunting, McCabe?” Simon asked.

Caelen’s eyes narrowed at the slight. Now wasn’t the time to show any softness with his new clan. If he did, he’d lose any and all credibility. They didn’t have to like him, but they damn well better respect him.

He drew his sword before the other men could blink and he sliced the blade through the air, a bare inch from the older man’s neck.

Simon blinked in surprise but didn’t dare move lest he cut himself.

“You will address me as Laird,” Caelen said. “You may not like the fact that a McCabe has replaced a McDonald, but you’ll show the respect that’s due or you’ll find yourself on the ground.”

“You can bloody well try,” Simon bit out.

Caelen had to hand it to the man. He might be older and he might be speaking from a clear disadvantage of
having a sword to his throat, but he showed no fear or lack of courage.

Caelen slowly lowered the sword and then tossed it in the air toward Gannon. He smiled slow and his lip curled as he stared at Simon. “I’ll do more than try, old man.”

Without warning, Simon charged. A shout went up through the courtyard and the men pressed forward, eager to see the impending clash.

Simon drove his shoulder into Caelen’s abdomen, knocking him back several feet. But Caelen stood his ground and didn’t go down under the onslaught.

The McDonald men quickly circled Caelen and Simon and began shouting encouragement to Simon. Shouts of “Take him down” and “Show him what we think of our new laird” filled the air.

Caelen rotated, wrapping his arms around Simon’s waist. The movement coupled with Simon’s forward momentum unbalanced the man. Caelen picked him up and swung, slamming him into the ground as he came down on top of him.

They rolled, snow kicking up amid the flurry of arms and legs. Simon landed a punch to Caelen’s jaw, knocking him back enough that he could scramble from Caelen’s hold.

The two warriors stood and circled warily, feinting left and right as they waited for the other to make a move.

Caelen punched, landing a forceful blow to Simon’s chin and knocking him back a few paces. Simon wiped at a trickle of blood at his mouth and then curled his lip into a snarl.

“Now to see your measure, McCabe.”

He lunged forward, wrapping his beefy arms around Caelen’s waist and drove them both into the snow. The impact drove the breath from Caelen. He rolled then
dodged the fist that flew at his face. He wasn’t quick enough to avoid the full impact, though. He tasted blood on his tongue.

He drove his knee into Simon’s midsection and then flipped the man over his head to land in the snow several feet away. Caelen was quick to his feet and he stood back as Simon picked himself out of the drift.

“What is your issue?” Caelen barked. “Your laird was a waste of good, clean air. He left your clan in dire circumstances. He acted without honor. He has brought shame to all of you.”

Simon spat blood onto the snow. “You are not our choice. Aye, the old man was not a good laird. He didn’t deserve the mantle of leadership. But you haven’t proved yourself worthy of it either. You walk onto our land, shouting orders by writ of the king who hasn’t shown himself to us to make this decree.”

“You treat Rionna without respect,” James called from the crowd.

“Aye,” several others chorused.

Simon nodded. “Rionna is a good lass who cares only for her clan. She fights alongside us. She goes without when we go without. She is loyal to her bones,” Simon said. “She deserves a husband who will see her for the treasure she is.”

Caelen took advantage of the older man’s momentary distraction and charged. They went down again and Caelen used his momentum to flip Simon over his back.

The man landed facedown in the snow and Caelen pressed his knee into Simon’s back. He gripped Simon’s hair and pulled until his face was clear of the snow.

“Is that the way of things in the McDonald clan? You allow your women to do your fighting for you? Rionna is a laird’s daughter. She is now wife to your new laird. Think you she should be gadding about as a man, putting herself at risk? She could be killed or grievously injured.
If you want her treated as the treasure you say she is, doesn’t it make more sense for her to remain inside the keep where she can be protected? How can you speak of respect when it’s apparent none of you have any for her and her station?”

Caelen dropped his hold and eased back to stand over Simon.

“Women are to be protected, taken care of, and provided for. The day I need a woman to do those things for me is the day they’ll put me in the ground and no longer call me a warrior.”

Simon grimaced as he got to his feet and brushed the snow from his tunic. “Aye, you have the right of it. Rionna … she’s a different lass, Laird.”

Caelen grunted in satisfaction at the manner of address Simon issued. “Aye, I know it. She’s a strange lass to be sure. But ’tis not too late to instruct her on the proper ways of a lass. Soon she’ll carry my child and your next laird. Would you have her risking her safety and that of her child by taking up a sword and fighting as a man?”

“Nay.”

The murmur went up through the crowd as each man shook his head. Not all were convinced, though. They may agree that Rionna was in need of protecting, but they weren’t accepting of him as laird.

It would take time. Time that Caelen didn’t have if he was going to transform this meager army into a fighting force as good as the McCabes’.

“Where do we go this day, Laird?” Simon asked.

The fact that Simon addressed Caelen as laird didn’t meet with approval by many. The men scowled and shook their heads before turning away in a show of blatant disrespect.

“We go hunting,” Caelen said. “Our larders are empty. Our women and young go hungry while we
stand out here acting as children. We have much training to do in the coming weeks. Our men will have need of adequate sustenance in order to keep their strength up. I’m going to work you hard and without mercy. I’ll make warriors of you if it kills me.”

“My son James is a good shot with a bow. He’s our best hunter.”

“Then I’ll welcome him along. Gather your best. I want you and Arlen and whomever you choose to accompany us. We leave immediately.”

Simon nodded and started to turn away but then paused. He took a breath as if he debated what he wanted to say.

“Speak,” Caelen ordered. “ ’Tis obvious you have something you want to get off your chest.”

“Try to have patience with the lass. Her ways are all she’s ever known. She has a good and fierce heart.”

Caelen frowned. It irritated him to receive advice at every turn for how to handle his wife. Even his brother had offered his opinion on the matter after marrying another woman. But then Alaric fancied himself an expert on women.

“What the lass needs is a firm hand. She’s been allowed to run wild for far too long.”

A few snickers went up from the crowd. Even Simon grinned as if they all shared some secret amusement.

“Then I’ll wish you luck, Laird. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”