Chapter 3
Sweat dripped down from Liam’s forehead as the sword swung around and met his with a striking power. His grip slipped, as did the sword, and it cost him precious seconds to readjust his grip, By the time he was ready, the sword was already coming down.
“Damnation, Liam,” Creighton growled as he pulled back at the last minute, allowing his sword to just glance off Liam’s rather than hitting his son in the shoulder.
“This is the second time that I have nearly hurt ye. Yer mother will give me an earful if I bloody ye before the Sinclairs get here. Where is yer mind?”
Liam didn’t bother responding. His father already knew the answer, so Liam simply planted his sword in the grass and went to his water canteen.
After taking a long sip, he wiped his forehead with the dirty sleeve of his tunic.
“I’m ready,” he muttered as he gripped the hilt of his sword and pulled it back up. “I willnae make another mistake.”
His father’s eyes swept over him. “‘Tis only practice, and I think we’ve been at it enough.”
“Nay. I am ready.”
“Aye, ye are, but I am an old man, and I need a rest.”
Liam snorted, but the conversation was over once his father tossed his sword aside. Creighton Armstrong might have been older, but he hardly needed rest. His father was always in battle condition.
When they stood side by side, there was no mistaking the resemblance.
He had his father's dark hair, although Creighton’s was greying now.
He’d met his father’s height and then surpassed it by two inches.
At twenty-three, he was built and filled out and carried his father’s strong jaw and nose.
The only difference was that he had his mother’s green eyes where his father’s were dark.
And Liam didn’t just look like Creighton. He sounded like him, too, from his snarls of temper to the bellow of his laughter. They thought the same and fought the same. Most of the clan joked that there would be no difference in ruling when Liam took over. He would be like his father reincarnated.
His father, however, didn’t make mistakes. Certainly not mistakes that got good women killed.
“I’ll take up training with Donal,” Liam said curtly.
“Donal hasnae returned, remember?”
That brought him up short. It had been a month since they’d returned from the river.
After two weeks, Donal had requested to return.
There was something different about him.
He hadn’t been able to sit still. Liam told his father that he’d been courting Mara, the poor lass who’d lost her sister, and he no doubt wanted to return to comfort her.
Donal would not return until the week’s end. Silently, Liam cursed himself. First he was making mistakes in training, and now he was forgetting his guard's whereabouts.
“Walk with me,” Creighton said after drinking his own water. “The clan is expanding, and I’d like yer thoughts on how we should proceed.”
Liam recognized a distraction when he saw one. His father wouldn’t even bring up expansion if he hadn’t already had a plan in mind, one that was approved by his wife. He and Kylie were a team.
They walked for nearly an hour before they stood overlooking the valley.
Currently, it was lush and dense with trees.
Several fresh water creeks divided the land.
Some roads had been carved through it, hoping to create a shortcut to the Erksine lands on the other side, but they had yet to be finished.
Kylie’s brother was currently the Laird of Erksine, and they were close, but she’d asked the progress to be halted.
She hated to cut through the lovely forest for the sake of convenience.
His mother only had to ask, and Liam’s father would comply. She never abused Creighton’s love for her, though, so when she asked for something, they all listened.
“Mother has agreed to expand here?” He asked incredulously.
“Only as far as the roads lead, and only when needed. The expansion will be slow. In our village, we’ve two dozen boys on the verge of manhood.
The guard will take some, and they can live in the keep, but the others will need homes.
We’ve just as many lasses, and ye know yer mother.
If a lass wants to stay independent of marriage, yer mother will fight tooth and nail to make it happen. ”
There was a note of pride in his father’s voice, even as he shook his head.
“Not to mention all of our service buildings are along the borders for easy access to the outlying villages in case of emergency. I am thinking of building another storehouse here. The last time I visited the MacKays, they’d set up a healer house large enough to house a dozen patients at a time.
Perhaps another guard outpost and a dozen houses. ”
His father’s musings caught Liam’s interest, and he studied the area.
A map formed in his head. His father’s proposition would certainly take space, but the woods were vast. There was plenty of land and then some for his father’s idea.
A new storehouse was needed, but another guard post?
Did his father know something about the Erksines that he did not?
Knowing there was no reason to tiptoe around the subject, he asked.
His mother was once afraid of her own father, believing that he would kill her because she was born out of wedlock.
It could not be further from the truth. He had passed when Liam was a child, but he still had memories of the grizzled old man bouncing him up and down on his knee and roaring with laughter.
His uncle was also a fair man, and as for his cousins…
Liam blinked. “Uncle has no heir.”
“Nay, he doesnae. Five daughters and only two who survived to adulthood. He hasnae been open about the details, but I imagine he will wed them both to allies in hopes of securing an heir that way. Otherwise, the king will name an heir.”
And his father feared the peace would not keep. It was not paranoia. There was always fighting between the clans, the king seemed to have less and less interest in ruling with the English breathing down their necks.
“Ye should tell uncle about the guard post so he doesnae think we are a threat to him,” Liam said finally. “And we should consider a trench between the creeks to the river. A natural barrier will be easier to defend if need be.”
Creighton nodded. “An excellent idea.”
They stood quietly, side-by-side, observing the woods, and Liam couldn’t help but think about the monster that he thought he’d seen. The one he’d ignored.
“I have not intervened yet,” Creighton said heavily. “I made my own mistakes when I was yer age, and there was no one to tell me that I did right or wrong. I had to forgive myself and move on.”
Liam tensed. When Creighton was his age, his brother had betrayed them and murdered their eldest brother for the clan. Creighton had never believed he would be laird. He was completely unprepared for it.
“Ye have a strong head on yer shoulders. I had hoped ye would be able to move forward, but ye also have a big heart. Ye let yer burdens weigh ye down. When ye are laird, ye cannae allow this to happen. These people will depend on ye to keep them safe, and even when ye make the wrong decision, ye have to forgive yerself.”
“Father…”
“I amnae finished,” Creighton interrupted. “Ye’ve told me yer story. The guards’ve told another. No one blamed ye but ye. The lass was attacked by a hound. Donal feels guilty about telling ye to ignore it. He went to hunt it, and I suspect he will be victorious. He is an excellent hunter.”
Fury burned through him, and he turned. “I should be the one hunting it.”
“Aye, and if ye didnae feel like this was yer personal responsibility, I would’ve let ye. When it comes to clan business, ye cannae make it personal. Ye are making this personal.”
“Donal still thinks it’s a hound gone savage. It is a wolf!”
“Then he will return with the carcass of a wolf, and we will assess that problem when we come to it.” Creighton sighed.
“There have been no wolves in the Highlands ever.
I amnae saying that one didnae make its way up here somehow.
I am saying that ye are taking it too personally.
‘Tis affecting the rest of your life. Ye have to acknowledge what happened and let it go.”
“If I had followed my instincts then, the lass might still be alive.”
With a heavy sigh, his father ran his hand through his hair. “Come. The Sinclairs will be here tomorrow. Yer mother will demand that we both bathe tonight.”
“Are they coming as a show of strength? Because of Clan Gibson?”
“Gibson is a thorn in my side. If he decides to attack, we require no other allies to crush him. Connor and Moira are coming because they are friends.” Creighton looked down and grinned. “And perhaps because it is wise to remind the surrounding lands who I am and who fights with me.”
Despite himself, Liam grinned. It would be nice to have a distraction, and Liam always enjoyed sparring with Connor. He was eager to return to the river, but he knew his father would not let him go until he had his head on straight.
The burden didn’t lift from his shoulders, but he knew he would have to try if he wanted to set things right. And when Donal did return at the end of the week, Liam hoped it would be with the head of a monster.