Chapter 29 #2
Tavish's blade came in low, under Keir's guard, and pressed against his throat. Not cutting. Not yet. Just resting there, cold steel against vulnerable skin.
"Yield," Tavish commanded.
Keir's chest heaved, his eyes wild. "Never."
"Then I'll make ye." Tavish increased the pressure fractionally. Enough to draw a thin line of blood. "Yield. Now."
The silence stretched. Everyone watching held their breath.
Finally, Keir's sword arm dropped. "I yield."
Tavish stepped back immediately, lowering his blade. "Then honor yer word. Leave MacEwan lands. Withdraw yer claim. And dinnae return."
Keir's hand went up to his throat, fingers coming away bloody. The cut was superficial, barely more than a scratch. But the humiliation ran deep.
"This isnae over," he hissed.
"Yes, it is. Ye lost. Ye gave yer word in front of witnesses." Tavish gestured to the watching crowd. "Unless ye'd like tae publicly declare yerself an oath-breaker as well as everything else?"
Keir's jaw clenched so hard Tavish could hear his teeth grind. But he gave a sharp nod and turned to his men.
"Mount up. We're leaving."
The Sinclair delegation moved quickly, clearly eager to escape the hostile atmosphere. Within minutes, they were mounted and heading toward the gates.
At the threshold, Keir turned back one final time.
"Enjoy yer victory while it lasts, MacBain. Because I promise ye, this is far from finished."
Then they were gone, hoofbeats fading into the distance.
Tavish stood in the center of the courtyard, sword still in hand, breathing hard. The adrenaline began to fade, leaving him shaking slightly.
Maighread appeared at his side, her hands on his arms. "Are ye hurt?"
"Nay. I'm fine." He sheathed his blade, covering her hands with his. "Are ye?"
"Aye. Thanks tae ye." Her voice wavered slightly. "That was incredibly reckless."
"It was necessary." He met her eyes. "He needed tae ken we're serious. That this isn't some game he can manipulate his way around."
"Ye could have been killed."
"But I wasnae." He squeezed her hands. "And now he's gone. Bound by oath tae stay away."
"Ye heard his parting words. He'll find a way around it."
"Let him try. We'll be ready."
The crowd began to disperse, servants returning to their duties and guards resuming their posts. Greg appeared, clapping Tavish on the shoulder.
"Well fought," he said. "Though ye gave me a scare when he went fer yer throat."
"Had it under control the whole time."
"Liar." But Greg grinned. "Still. Ye won. That's what matters."
Word of the duel spread through the castle like wildfire. By the time Tavish had washed the sweat away and changed his shirt, every resident knew what had transpired. The looks he received ranged from admiration to concern to outright suspicion.
Late afternoon brought a summons to the council chamber. Tavish arrived to find the full council assembled, their expressions grim.
"MacBain," Malcolm said without preamble. "We need tae discuss what happened today. Yer duel with Keir Sinclair."
"What about it?"
"Ye put yerself in considerable danger on our behalf," Ewan said. "And we're grateful. More than grateful. Ye've protected Lady Maighread, stood against Sinclair, risked yer life fer a clan that isnae yer own."
Tavish's brow furrowed. "She's me betrothed. Of course I protected her."
"Aye, but that's just it, lad." Malcolm leaned forward, his expression earnest. "This isnae yer fight.
Ye came here tae help, and ye've done more than anyone could have asked.
But Keir Sinclair willnae stop. He'll keep coming, keep escalating.
And we can't, in good conscience, ask ye tae keep putting yerself in harm's way. "
"What are ye saying?"
"We're saying ye've done yer duty and more," Dougal said quietly. "If ye need tae return tae yer own clan—fer yer safety, fer MacBain interests—we'll release ye from the betrothal. Nay dishonor, nay shame. Just… permission tae protect yerself and yer people."
Understanding dawned. They were offering him a way out. An honorable escape from the danger, from Keir's escalating violence, from obligations he'd never truly agreed to in the first place.
"I see," Tavish said slowly.
"Yer own clan needs ye," Malcolm added. "Fionnlagh could use yer support. And ye shouldn't have tae risk yer life fer problems that arenae yers tae solve."
Silence fell over the chamber. Tavish looked at each man in turn, seeing genuine concern in their weathered faces. They meant it. They would let him go, no questions asked.
"Nay," he said finally.
Malcolm blinked. "Nay?"
"I appreciate what ye're offering. Truly." Tavish straightened his shoulders. "But I'm nae leaving. This is where I belong now. Maighread is me betrothed, and I'll stand beside her—against Keir or anyone else—fer as long as she'll have me."
"Ye cannae possibly ken that after such a short time," Dougal protested.
"I can and I dae." Tavish's voice remained steady, certain. "I've spent weeks here. Weeks watching how this clan operates, how Maighread leads, how the people respond tae challenges. And I've realized something. This feels righter than anything I've done in years."
"That's admirable sentiment," Ewan said carefully. "But sentiment daesnae hold up against political reality. Ye're a second son with nay inheritance. Staying here ties ye tae conflicts ye have nay stake in."
"I have every stake in them now. Because Maighread is me stake.
This clan is me stake." Tavish straightened, squaring his shoulders.
"I'm nae asking fer yer permission or yer approval.
I'm telling ye that I'm staying. The betrothal stands.
And if Keir Sinclair comes back, I'll deal with him again. As many times as necessary."
Silence fell over the chamber. The council members exchanged glances, some resigned, others disapproving.
"Ye're certain?" Malcolm asked finally.
"Completely."
"Then I suppose there's nothing more tae say." The older man sighed. "Though I hope ye ken what ye're committing tae, lad. This willnae be easy."
"The best things never are."
The Council dismissed him shortly after. Tavish left the chamber with his head held high, his decision made and absolute.
He found Maighread in the solar as evening fell, standing by the window and staring out at the darkening grounds. She turned as he entered, her expression questioning.
"The Council tried tae convince me tae leave," he said without preamble. "Offered me an honorable way out. A chance tae return tae MacBain lands and let ye handle Keir without me."
Her face went carefully blank. "And?"
"And I told them nay." He crossed to her, stopping just close enough to see the silver flecks in her grey eyes. "I told them I'm staying. That this is where I belong now."
"Tavish—"
"I ken what I'm saying, lass. I ken the risks and the complications and everything that comes with choosing tae stay.
But I also ken that walking away from ye, from this, would be the worst mistake I could make.
" He reached out, his fingers finding hers.
"So I'm nae walking away. I'm staying right here, beside ye, fer as long as ye'll have me. "
Maighread's eyes glistened. "Ye dinnae have tae—"
"I ken I dinnae have tae. That's what makes it a choice." He squeezed her hand.