Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Christopher had abandoned all he had ever known to come here, he had expected that happiness would stay with it. He was sure he'd be leaving the part of himself that enjoyed freedom and whimsy behind, and it had been a sacrifice he was willing to make for the sake of those he loved.
But for the first time since he had arrived, he felt a warm happiness that followed him in every step he took, protecting him against the chill of the night and giving him the kind of hope he hadn't ever dreamed he would find here.
He wasn't alone here, not anymore. Finally, he had broken through Morag's shell, and what he'd found underneath was something he had been searching for his entire life.
He knew love better than most young men his age; growing up around Aila and Lachlan, Taryn and James, and Sorcha and Oliver, he saw what it was when couples truly adored each other.
But that had always been for them, bonds forged in tension and fighting and reclaiming their destiny.
Christopher had never expected it would come for him.
Arran and Alexandra's quiet, still unspoken and unacknowledged adoration for one another had been something different, something inevitable.
The wild adventurous love he saw when he met Rolland and saw him with Elsie had taken him by surprise, but though it suited his sister's spirit, Christopher had known then that he wasn't bound for that.
He was not the easygoing, cheerful Rolland nor the dedicated, kind Arran. He was just Christopher.
Except… except now he'd found Morag, and she'd brought something out in him that he hadn't known was there.
She'd encouraged a wildness in him, a yearning for wild desire that he knew she shared, and he'd found in her a hidden warrior woman waiting to break free.
Far from the darkness she thought surrounded her, she was pure radiance when she allowed herself to shine, and every day that passed left Christopher more and more eager to be the cause of that light.
He didn't dare put a name to the feeling, not yet, but he knew for the first time that he could truly succeed—and he'd do it with Morag at his side. When he took her home to meet his family, when he showed her how the world could be, they'd have a future that was unstoppable.
Christopher knew that he should sleep, but as the sun rose in the sky, he was far too stimulated to rest. Instead, he stopped in his room only to change into fresh clothes then headed right down to the stables.
Ever since he was a boy, he'd whispered his secrets in Beatha's ear when he wasn't ready to share them with anyone else, even his parents and siblings. He hadn't done so in some time, but he was eager to go down and see his beloved horse today. While he was there, he could check on Splendor, too.
He wanted to make sure the McKenzies' horse was all right and perhaps even search the animal and his saddlebags for any clues about what might have happened to his rider. Most likely, he had been carrying scouts, not one of the family—Splendor was an excellent choice for long-distance missions.
Christopher entered the stable, whistling, and went straight to Beatha's stall. He smiled when he saw how well she was being looked after. Despite the cruelty of Alistair Campbell, many of his servants were here because they had little choice, and the stable master truly cared for the horses.
"Good mornin', lass," he said as she whinnied excitedly in greeting.
Beatha leaned over her stall, and he patted her snout then fed her a sugar lump he'd snuck out of the kitchens on his way past. He was about to start telling her about the night before when a voice surprised him, causing him to jump.
"Ye're here early."
Christopher spun to see Ian, of all people, standing by the stall where Splendor had been housed.
The Kincaid horse was watching warily, his ears pointed with distrust, his lips pulled back across his teeth.
Ian stood a little further back, watching the horse but clever enough not to move too close yet.
"Ye're here earlier," Christopher replied, relief and anxiety flooding through him in equal measure. He thought about what he'd been just about to reveal. Thankfully, Morag's secret remained safe. "Did ye come down tae check on Splendor?"
"Splendor?" Ian asked. "Is that his name? It's a suitable one. Though he doesnae seem tae like me very much."
Christopher patted Beatha again, then moved closer to Ian. "He's scared. Ye need tae be more calm as ye approach him. Imagine how ye'd feel in his place."
Ian frowned and tilted his head, but he didn't try to argue. "How do I do that? I've nae been aggressive."
"Relax yer body when ye get near him. Be firm, but gentle. Talk tae him, too; remember that he's a livin' thing, and nae a tool."
Christopher displayed what he meant by slowly approaching Splendor, whispering his name and soft, reassuring words as he walked. Splendor eyed him nervously, but as Christopher got closer, the horse cautiously leaned forward.
Christopher didn't rush. He moved only a tiny part at a time, talking quietly the whole while, determined not to scare Splendor.
At last, when he reached the very front of the stall, Splendor lowered his head and allowed Christopher to pat his nose.
Christopher smiled in victory and praised Splendor a few times before slowly retreating and returning to Ian's side.
"Remarkable," Ian told him, sounding genuinely impressed. He spoke now with the friendliness he often had when they were alone, not with the rage of the heir he always put on when he was around other people. "Who'd have kent my wee brother Murdoch would be skilled with horses?"
With a small, awkward smile, Christopher said, "It's nae so hard. I'll show ye how tae tame him, if ye like."
"And after I threatened tae slay ye, as well," Ian replied, laughing slightly. "Sorry about that, though in me defense, ye did attack me, and in front of people."
Shifting slightly in place, Christopher shrugged. "I think we're even. Dinnae worry about it."
With a nod, Ian stared at Splendor for a moment before speaking again. "Ye were right, though. I admit it. This horse is far too magnificent to be wasted and slaughtered. He's powerful, bonny, and aye, I see what ye see as well. It isnae many men who can prove me wrong, but I'm glad ye did."
Christopher blinked in surprise. He hadn't actually known it was possible for Ian to admit to being wrong or to reverse a decision once it had been made.
But then, Ian had always been different when the two of them were alone than the man he acted around the Campbell soldiers or around Alistair himself.
Could it be possible that, like with Morag, Christopher could break through whatever was holding Ian back?
He was Christopher's brother, and Elsie's too, there was no world where there could be any doubt about it.
They even looked like one another. If the true Morag could survive despite being raised by Laird Caindach, then perhaps the true Ian was there underneath the boy molded by Laird Campbell.
It was possible—no, it was likely—that there was more to Ian than cruelty and command. Alistair was a hopeless, evil man, but as the son of the same mother, surely Christopher owed it to the late Fenella to try to rescue Ian, too?
"He's a fine horse. Come, I'll show ye," Christopher said. "Let's get closer."
"Like this?" Ian asked, adjusting his stance to copy Christopher's.
Nodding, encouraged by Ian's enthusiasm and compliance, Christopher led the way toward the stall. Splendor reared back at Ian's approach, but, under Christopher's careful instruction, Ian was able to calm him.
"Put out yer hand, but dinnae try tae touch him yet," Christopher said. "If ye want, take a slice of apple or another wee treat from the bag tae tempt him. Hold it out with yer hand open."
Ian fished out a treat and did exactly as Christopher said. Splendor nickered but leaned closer, sniffing at the treat but not displaying enough trust to eat just yet.
"Good," Christopher encouraged him. "Now, talk tae him. Keep yer face open and kind. Dinnae move too suddenly or he'll be startled."
"Do I get a sugar lump as well if I succeed?" Ian joked, grinning.
Laughing, Christopher said, "Ye'll have tae work yer way up tae that. Ye'll be gettin' fresh hay in the trough first, then we'll go from there."
With more joking and teasing as well as a surprising amount of patience from Ian, Splendor at last took the treat. A short time later, the horse consented to allow Ian to pet him, and both brothers cheered in excitement at their success.
"That's enough for now. Let's give him a wee rest. I'll let ye meet Beatha," Christopher said.
Ian nodded, and the two of them moved over to the mare, who was excited for the attention.
"She's much more well-behaved, I promise. Splendor's always been that way."
As Ian fed Beatha a treat, he asked, "Ye kent the stallion as a foal, then?"
"Aye, I helped train him. He was a gift from the Kincaids tae the McKenzies, supposedly as part of continuin' the friendship between the two clans, but we all kent better." C
hristopher unlocked the stall door then the two of them led Beatha out to give her a slow walk around the field.
Outside, Ian said, "Was it simply a practical joke on the McKenzies, givin' them a horse so fine but so skittish?"
Christopher chuckled. "He's nae skittish, just selective. But nae, it wasnae a joke. It was just that me—" He cut himself off before he said brother, catching himself just on time.
Things were so easy and light with Ian today that he had almost forgotten where he was. Disguising the near slip by guiding Beatha around a corner, he restarted after collecting himself.
"Me task was tae bring Splendor tae the McKenzies with Arran."
"Arran, the Kincaid heir?" Ian asked. "What's he like?"
"Strong. Clever. And always eager tae impress Alexandra McKenzie," Christopher replied with a fond grin. "Though the younger brother, Rory, was the one who loved Splendor most. We gave them a few other horses, but Splendor was by far the favorite."
"I can see why," Ian replied appreciatively.
They chatted more as they finished Beatha's walk and brought her back to the stable.
Christopher talked a little more about fun stories from his past, though he carefully did not give away too much information about the inner workings of his family or their allies.
In turn, Ian talked about his own upbringing—his friends, his lovers, and even the tournaments he liked to hold with the Campbell men.
Both of them avoided mentioning their mother, neither wanting to darken the comfortable conversation with the memory of how they had been separated. By the time they got Beatha inside, Christopher was actually feeling cautiously affectionate toward the brother he hadn't ever known.
"I have an idea," Ian said. "Do ye think that we could convince Splendor tae let me ride him?"
Christopher hesitated. "Ye'd have tae be very careful. And ye'd have tae listen tae every word I say until ye get comfortable."
"I swear I will," Ian said immediately. "Help me?"
How could Christopher refuse?
After another half hour of helping Splendor warm up to Ian, they led both horses back out of the stables and into the brightness of what was now mid-morning.
Christopher insisted that Ian spend some time walking Splendor around the field to warm him up, and then the two of them mounted the horses together.
Splendor took to Ian's gentle direction under Christopher's tutelage fairly quickly, and soon they were riding together around the keep.
As time passed, the two of them sped up, laughing and joking as they rode.
Ian whooped with excitement as Splendor sped up, and Christopher, chuckling at his excitement, urged Beatha to run as well.
They reached the outskirts of the keep, and then Ian took the lead, guiding them further out at a gallop until they reached the edges of the new encampment.
"Look at it, Murdoch!" he said, slowing Splendor to gesture toward the camp. His cheeks were red with the wind and the joy he was feeling.
Christopher slowed down too, his stomach tightening slightly at the use of the name. It tore him from his cheer a little to remember that, from Ian's perspective, this was a bonding of the sons of Campbell.
He cast his eye in the direction that Ian indicated and saw that the encampment was already busy with warriors, weapons, and horses all around.
Ian started listing names and strategies so casually that it took a moment before Christopher realized what he was hearing.
Ian spoke like a boy talking about his toy soldiers, but for Christopher, he was delivering more information than could have ever been dreamed of by snooping around in the war rooms.
By the time they rode back to the castle, Christopher's head and heart were buzzing with excitement.
He couldn't wait to see Morag to tell her about everything that had happened already before it was even time for the midday meal.
He had seen a whole other side to Ian, a side he hadn't even thought to hope might have existed before.
And, more than that, he at last had some solid information he could use to help turn the tide of this war toward his family's and the Murrays' favor.
Things, at long last, were looking good. And Christopher had Morag to thank for it.