Chapter Twenty-Two #4
Shouts of support came from the archers above, but he couldn’t take time to appreciate them. He wiped his sword across the now lifeless body of de La Porte and rushed back to the keep, hoping the others had taken care of Glenn of Buchan.
When he stepped into the great hall, he saw about a dozen of the enemy fighting five Grants. Jamie, Connor, Loki, Cailean, and Alex Grant stood near the back with Glenn of Buchan huddling in the opposite corner. There was no sign of Davina.
Connor, Jamie, Loki, and Cailean fought like beasts, downing every man who dared to swing a sword their way, but Alex was losing strength. He fought hard, taking a couple out, but he didn’t have the power of the other three.
Then the worst thing possible happened. Glenn of Buchan came running from the opposite side of the hall, his sword arm raised and heading directly toward Alex Grant’s back.
Chapter Twenty
Alex Grant, the might warrior and swordsman, is back!
“My laird, your back!” Finlay bellowed. He buried a sword in the back of the man Alex had been parrying with in front of him, freeing the Grant to face his foe.
Alex Grant spun around, and in a beautifully choreographed move, knocked the sword out of Buchan’s hands and plunged his sword into the swine’s heart. Buchan fell to the floor, cursing the Grants and the Ramsays as he clutched his chest.
Connor and Jamie finished the last two and they all paused, staring around at the carnage, gasping for breath. “Anyone injured?” Jamie asked. “Papa?”
“I’m fine.” He glanced at Finlay. “Good timing, lad. I never saw him coming.”
“My laird, you finished him. ‘Tis what counts and what all the Scots need to know,” Finlay said as he cleaned his sword and sheathed it.
“De La Porte?” Jamie asked.
Logan came in through the back, chuckling.
“MacNicol made sure he’ll never be taking a sword to anyone again.
” Then he frowned for a moment. “And damn if somebody isn’t deadly with a dagger.
I still don’t know who threw the one that hit that bastard between the eyes before Molly could send off another arrow. ”
Finlay had a vague recollection of that happening out in back. At the time, his mind had been fixed on de La Porte.
Connor took his sire by the elbow and led him to one of the few upright chairs. “Papa, sit. You did what you set out to do—you ended this man’s tyranny. But your color isn’t good. Mama will have my hide if I don’t watch over you.”
Alex sat, heaving to catch his breath. “Jamie, Finlay,” he gasped. “Check the progress outside.” Connor hurried off to find him something to drink.
Finlay peered over Jamie’s shoulder as he opened the door, but they both broke into huge smiles when they saw nothing but red plaids and blue plaids filling the courtyard, either standing or on horseback.
“‘Tis done, brother?” Jake yelled out. “Father is hale?”
Jamie nodded. “Aye, ‘tis done. Alex Grant took Glenn of Buchan out, and Finlay MacNicol finished Simon de La Porte.”
Jamie and Jake nodded to each other. Then they lifted their swords in celebration as they led a chant of Grant and Ramsay war whoops that spread like fire down the valley and across the surrounding moors.
A few moments later, Alex came out the front door, Loki directly behind him, and raised his sword to cheers from his comrades, but his arm fell to his side quickly.
His color had improved, but his face was drawn.
He’d apparently seen enough battle. Finlay caught the looks exchanged between the acting lairds and knew they’d be taking the former laird home soon.
Torrian raced across the courtyard and up the steps.
“What is it?” Jamie asked.
“I need to see for myself.”
The fierce expression on the Ramsay laird’s face left Finlay with no doubt that the Grants would let him in.
Everyone in the Highlands had heard the story of the beginning of the Buchan’s tyranny.
Glenn had tried to force Torrian Ramsay to marry Davina.
Together with Ranulf MacNiven, he had conspired to use trickery to convince their king that Torrian had taken the lass’s maidenhead.
The Ramsays had been able to prove the truth with the assistance of Torrian’s wee sister, Jennet.
But the Buchan’s plan had almost worked.
Moreover, the Buchan’s sons had tormented both Torrian’s wife and his sister.
Jamie led Torrian into the great hall, and Finlay and the others followed them inside. While Alex took to a chair again, Torrian strode to the back to see Glenn of Buchan.
Logan, still in the hall, moved over and placed his hand on the Ramsay laird’s shoulder as a show of support.
“Stand back, Uncle Logan.” Torrian whispered. “I need a moment.”
Logan did as his nephew asked, glancing at Finlay, Loki, and Cailean.
Torrian stared at the man, spat on him, then pulled his sword out, before going down on one knee before Alex Grant and bowing his head. “My thanks to you, Uncle Alex.”
Alex grasped his shoulder and said, “My stroke was for Kyla, Finlay, and all the Ramsays.” He nodded to Finlay. “There were many hands guiding my arm. His evil spirit did great harm, but it’s done.”
Torrian stood and turned to Jamie. “Any instructions, laird?”
Jamie nodded to his sire, giving him that honor.
“We’re heading home,” Alex announced. “We shall take one hundred guards with us. Have the rest bury the dead. Ten guards should stay to take Buchan and de La Porte to Edinburgh for the king to see.”
Torrian said, “Kyle Maule and I respectfully request that duty.”
Alex nodded to him. “See it done. Then we hope the two of you will join our celebrations on Cameron land.”
“With pleasure.” Torrian nodded and left.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The wedding of his eldest daughter…
Her mother leaned down and kissed her youngest daughters before sending them over to Aunt Jennie. “Go along with your aunties. I’ll follow soon. This moment is for your sister and her father. Her brothers will lead them.”
After much rustling and arranging, the others left. Her mother kissed her on the cheek and said, “You are a stunning bride, daughter.”
“Even with all my bruises, Mama?”
She kissed her forehead. “Even with your bruises. I hardly noticed them. You’ve chosen a fine man, and I wish you nothing but happiness.”
Jake kissed Kyla on the cheek before he left to escort their mother to the abbey.
Jamie and Connor stood on either side of their father. Kyla stared at Connor. “Oh my, Papa.”
Her sire lifted his brow in question.
“Connor looks exactly like you, and he’s the same height.”
Connor gave them all a mischievous grin, and her sire rolled his eyes.
Her father glanced at his sons and pointed to the door. “Go check if Gillie and Kenzie have the horses ready.”
For the first time since the battle, she was alone with her sire. She pushed on the crutch Aunt Jennie had fixed for her, but her father took it and tossed it off to the side. “I’ll support my daughter.”
Tears began to flow as soon as her gaze lifted to his.
“Why do you cry on your wedding day, lassie?” His thumb wiped her tears from her face.
“Oh, Papa.” He’d just called her lassie, sending her heart into her belly.
“I was so worried about you, and I know I was the cause of much of this trouble. I had hoped to help, and I did the very opposite. I just wanted our clann to stay the same forever. I tried to take over for both of you because you were wounded and Mama was so worried. I want you and Mama hale and hearty, and for everything to stay the same forever.”
He kissed her cheek. “Life is forever changing. You must accept that. Look at the fine young man you’ve found. He’s been there all along—you just needed to find him for yourself.”
“Aye. I do love him so. I cry out of guilt and gratefulness.”
“Buchan would have caused trouble one way or another. You just helped bring it to a conclusion a wee bit faster. Please do not think on it any longer. I slept much better last eve knowing that blight on our land was gone. And now, since I can no longer carry you on my chest, it pleases me to give you to a man I know will protect you. But if you ever sneak off again like that, I’ll be chasing you next time. ” He grinned as he said it.
She giggled. “I promise, never again. You stay at home with Mama.” Her hand reached up to brush a piece of lint from his leine. “You look so handsome in your finery, though I know you don’t have your best plaid.”
“This day is for you. You’ve chosen a fine man.” He held his arm out to her. “Shall we go, my wee princess?”
She smiled and took his arm, happy they’d had this moment together.
Jamie and Connor held the doors as they exited the Cameron keep.
Kenzie and Gillie fussed over the horses, their eyes on her father, both clearly eager to please.
Connor settled her on her horse and fixed her skirts the best he could, which sent Jamie and the two lads into gales of laughter.
“You’re just like a lass, Connor,” Kenzie said in delight.
Loki had been leaning against a tree keeping an eye on Kenzie and Gillie. He came over and said, “I’ll do it, Connor. Hell, know you naught about women?” When he finished, he kissed Kyla’s cheek and said, “And that’s how you do it, lads.”
Kenzie and Gillie laughed so hard everyone else started chuckling with them. Then Alex cleared his throat, and the two lads jumped to attention.
“Aye, my laird.”
“Aye, my laird.”
Kenzie and Gillie were getting along together even better than she and Finlay had expected.
Loki gave them direction. “Take the reins of the horses. Connor and Jamie will lead with their steeds.”
Her father sat atop Black Lightning, looking as regal as any king.
Her horse was a beautiful white mare. Her cousins Lily, Sorcha, and Bethia had braided the horse’s mane and tail with silver ribbons and had even woven in a small bouquet of bluebells above her forelock.
They’d attempted to do the same to Black Lightning, but her sire had balked.
They rode toward the abbey, a much longer ride than it was to the Grant chapel from the castle.
The sun sat high in the blue sky and shone down on the abbey, but an even more impressive sight was the rows and rows of warriors arranged before the abbey.
As they got closer, two lines of warriors created a path for them to follow.
The guards were all on horseback with their swords held high in the air as a tribute to their lairds.
They did not lower their weapons until all had passed them by.
Her father held her hand and nodded to his warriors.
At this point, Kyla had eyes only for Finlay, who was also mounted and had ridden out to greet them. He awaited them with his father and brother, all on horseback, at the end of the warrior lines, and he and his family escorted them the rest of the way to the abbey.
Lines of nuns stood along the walkway in front of the church.
Several priests were present, too, their cassocks billowing in the wind.
This was the abbey’s way of showing respect and appreciation to the Grants, Ramsays, Drummonds, Menzies, and Camerons, who had saved them from de La Porte’s planned attack.
The Cameron guards had spread out around the two buildings of the abbey, demonstrating their dedication to always protecting the church.
At the end of their procession, Connor helped Kyla down and her sire leaned over to kiss her. “You’ve chosen well,” he whispered in her ear. Then he stepped back to be with her mother.
Kyla could hear her mother’s sobs, a bit stronger than she expected, but when she took Finlay’s arm and moved to the front of the abbey to stand in front of the priest, she discovered why.
A gray-haired man pushed himself out of a chair to stand in front of them. Though he struggled a little to get to his feet, a young lad in vestments assisted him.
The man straightened his robe and nodded to them.
“Good evening, Kyla and Finlay. My name is Father MacGregor, and since I performed the ceremony at the marriage of your parents, Kyla, nothing could please me more in my old age than to preside over your wedding.” He took a moment to greet her parents with a nod.
Kyla glanced over her shoulder to smile at them.
Finlay squeezed her hand, bringing her attention back to him, the tall, handsome Highlander who’d stolen her heart in such a short time.
He was such a rugged warrior, yet so gentle with her.
His bright smile and twinkling eyes lit up her heart, reminding her of his quick wit, and how easily he could send her into gales of laughter.
Soon after he held her hand, his thumb reached around to caress the inside of her wrist, their small intimacy she’d never, ever forget.
Father MacGregor wrapped the Grant plaid over their hands as he continued in Gaelic, and all she could do was say many, many prayers of thanks as she stood in front of Lochluin Abbey, all her clann behind her.
When Father told Finlay to kiss the bride, she had to keep herself from leaping into his arms with joy. She and Finlay were husband and wife.