Chapter 10
Aleck guided his horse around the last bend in the road, the tightness easing in his chest as he realized they were close to home. He had been gone far too long, the skirmish lasting well into the night before they could feel as if they had won the battle.
He had lost two men in the process, their bodies now draped over their horses where they would be carried into their homeland and buried with honors that only a laird could bestow.
Their enemies, however, had suffered greatly, and while some had gotten away, the majority now lay in the field they had chosen for their death, leaving their bodies to be picked over by the birds.
Aleck felt no sense of pride in what he had done. With every stroke of his sword, he had ended a life for the sake of his clan.
Not for sport, never for sport.
He shifted on the saddle, the smell of blood and dirt filling his senses. He longed to see his keep and Fennella, to hold her in his arms for a singular moment so that he could right himself with what truly mattered in his life.
A future, with her.
“Aleck.”
The concerned sound in Malcolm’s voice caused Aleck to look at his second-in-command. “What is it?”
But Malcolm wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were transfixed on the sky. “Smoke.”
Turning his head sharply, Aleck’s blood ran cold as he saw the plume of smoke rising in the early morning light.
Right where his home was located.
Fennella!
Aleck kicked the horse’s flanks hard, jarring in the saddle as the horse took off in a full on run, covering the last few miles in a blur. His heart was racing, bile rising in his throat as he reached the clearing, slowing the horse as they saw dead bodies littering the ground.
“Bloody hell,” Malcolm muttered as they looked upon the dead men, arrows sticking out of their bodies. “Are they...are they ours?”
Aleck slid from his horse, kneeling at the first body he came to, a wash of relief flooding him. “Nae,” he said, rising. “’Tis the wrong tartan.”
Striding through the bodies, he nearly made it to the gate before an arrow landed at his feet, causing him to look up.
High on the wall stood Fennella, her bow now slack from the arrow that she had just released, surprise on her face. “Aleck?”
“Fennella,” he breathed. She was alive. “Let us in lass.”
“Open the gates!” she called out, disappearing from sight.
A moment later the gates opened, and guards wandered out cautiously, relaxing as they took in their fellow clansmen.
Aleck moved past them, his jaw tightening as he counted the bodies he passed.
It was a damn raid, a raid that attacked his keep while he was out fighting another battle.
He had left them unprotected, but by the looks of the dead bodies, they had boded well without him.
“Aleck!”
Aleck turned in time to catch Fennella as she threw herself at him, surprised as her body burrowed in his. His arms went around her immediately and he held her close, breathing in her scent. “Wife.”
“Husband,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. “I...I am glad you are home.”
“What happened?” he asked, not relinquishing her just yet. She felt far too good in his arms. “How many?”
Fennella pulled back, her tired eyes meeting his. “None,” she whispered. “We lost no one.”
A miracle. Aleck let out a shaky breath but Fennella was already pulling out of his embrace, putting some distance between them.
The moment was over, but he was certain it was only the beginning.
“Where is the fire coming from?” he asked lightly, looking around the courtyard.
While there were more people than he was used to there, everyone looked no worse for wear.
“The bodies,” Duncan offered up, reaching out and grabbing Aleck into a fierce embrace. “’Tis good to see you Brother.”
Aleck overcame his shock and hugged his brother, feeling the tremble of relief flow through Duncan’s body. They had never been a family to show outward emotions toward each other. “What happened?” Aleck stated, his voice clogged with emotion.
Duncan pulled away, slapping his brother on the back. “Come. Ye look as if ye could use some ale.”
Aleck reached out his hand to Fennella, beckoning for her to take it. “Wife?”
She hesitated for a moment but slid her hand in his blood-encrusted one. There were no words for what he felt at that moment.
After they entered the keep, Aleck unstrapped his sword and set it gently above the fireplace, taking a moment to wash his hands in the basin provided, the water cloudy from the blood that had been spilled.
Fennella and Duncan waited for him at the table, a small platter of food and some tankards prepared.
Aleck settled his weary body in his chair and Fennella handed him a tankard, their fingers brushing each other before she stepped back, clearing her throat.
Duncan joined him at the table and for the next half hour, Aleck listened to his story, his gaze drifting to his wife more than once.
She had protected their keep. She had protected his clan—their clan—even by shooting her own arrows to befall their enemy.
His heart hammered in his chest as he listened to Duncan’s words, thinking of the danger she had put herself in for those that she had yet to know.
He was humbled by her devotion to strangers.
“In all my days,” Duncan finished, “I have never crossed a woman who could move an entire clan tae action as she had. Ye are a lucky man, Brother. A very lucky one indeed.”
Aleck glanced in Fennella’s direction once more, only to find her no longer there. He had things to say to her, things that were of gratitude and affection for what she had done today. “Let’s finish burning the bodies,” he said softly, picking up his mug. “For tonight we celebrate.”
Aleck didn’t see Fennella the rest of the day, choosing to help his clan remove the bodies from the gates and dump them into the bonfire after divesting them of any weapons that could be repurposed.
Aleck studied each face as they did so, but no recognition came to mind.
Raid parties were not that uncommon after all.
Once Aleck finished with the grim task, he headed up to his bedchamber, disappointed to find it empty.
Perhaps his wife was helping with the preparations for this evening’s feast. Stripping off his clothing, Aleck sunk into the waiting tub, scrubbing the remnants of the last two days from his skin.
While he had worked alongside his clansmen, they had all told him stories of his brave wife, how she had stood beside them and protected her new home.
The awe in their voice had informed him that Fennella had gained the respect of his clan already.
And his as well.
By the time he made his way to the main hall, the celebration had already begun, the doors thrown open to allow for anyone to come in from the village.
A feast fit for a laird was laid out on the long table, from suckling pig to his favorite puddings, though he would not be the only one to feast tonight.
Tonight, everyone was welcome to do so, along with the free flowing ale and wine pulled from the keep’s cellars.
Bonfires were already started in the keep’s courtyard, and Aleck could hear the strains of music floating through the air.
Tonight was a night to celebrate!
Aleck found Fennella immediately, making his way to his wife’s side. His heart swelled as he took in her form-fitting green gown, her hair down around her shoulders, and a smile on her lips that seemed to light her lovely face. “Wife,” he said near her ear, his hands itching to touch her.
Fennella turned, pressing a tankard into his hand. “Husband. You smell better.”
He leaned down, burying his nose in her hair. “As do ye Wife. I’ve missed ye.”
Her breath caught and she stepped back, giving him a once-over with her eyes. “You look tired.”
Aleck didn’t reach for her, gripping his tankard tightly in his hand. “As do ye.” There were dark circles under her eyes, even with her relaxed nature. They should both be abed.
The thought of having Fennella in his bed had him adjusting his breeks. Och, she was lovely tonight and his body craved her to be under him, writhing in bed.
She picked up the tankard of ale nearby, lifting it to her lips and he groaned, covering it with a cough. This woman was a witch. “So,” she said after taking a hearty sip. “How does the Campbell clan celebrate?”
“With a lot of ale and dancing,” Duncan called out as he stood beside Aleck. “’Tis good tae see the clan happy tonight. We lost no man because of yer lass here, Brother. Not one.”
Aleck smiled down at Fennella. “Aye, I heard. She protected her keep well.”
Fennella flushed, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. “’Tis was nothing.”
Aleck watched as Duncan threw his arm over Fennella’s shoulders, pulling her flush against him. “Och lass, take some credit! I am humbling myself before ye, my sister.”
Aleck clenched his tankard tightly as Fennella bestowed a smile to his brother, jealousy threading through his veins. He knew that Duncan would never try to take Fennella from him, but the thought of another man’s hands on her nearly undid him.
She was his and his alone.
“Come!” Duncan announced, taking Fennella’s tankard from her and drinking the remaining ale. “Let’s dance!”
Aleck was forced to watch him drag Fennella outside the keep, where the other villagers were already kicking up the dust in front of the bonfire to the sounds of the music.
Aleck waited less than the span of a minute before he joined them outside, watching as Fennella fell in step with the rest of the dancers.
“Yer wife has earned the respect of yer clan today.”
Aleck grinned as his uncle’s words washed over him. “Aye, she has.”
“She’s everythin ye needed,” Uncle Fergus continued, slapping him on the back. “So why are ye standing here in the shadows and allowing yer brother tae dance with her?”
Aleck pushed his tankard into his uncle’s waiting hands.
That was a bloody good question.