Ian (10 page)

“He’s in the hut and wounded badly,” said Clarista. “
Ian, he is old and I’m afraid he may not recover as quickly as he used to. Or possibly not at all.”

“I willna let thet happen,” said Kyla rushing forward. “I will heal him.”

“Kyla, I hope your herbal mixtures will be enough this time to heal all our wounded,” said Clarista with a sad shake of her head. “We are lucky to even be alive right now.”

“And why are ye?” asked Ian suspiciously. “I canna believe ye were able te fight off their whole clan with
only a handful o’ men, along with women and bairns. Excuse me fer sayin’ this Lady Clarista, but from what I’ve seen from the MacGillivrays’ attacks, ye should be deid right now.”

“Thet’s right,” said Niall, Storm’s nephew, walking up to join them
with Tam and a few other of the wounded men of the clan with him. “We would have been slaughtered and the cattle would be gone right now along with the sheep, and probably the place burned to the ground if our chieftain hadn’t made an alliance.”

“An alliance?” asked Ian. “With whom?”

“With the MacTavishes,” said The MacKeefe, standing in the doorway of one of the small, stone cottages. His face was ashen and his clothes bloodied, and his left arm looked to be broken, hanging at an odd angle. “They showed up here right after the MacGillivrays, and helped us fight them off.”

“Ye made an alliance with Clan
MacTavish?” Ian’s heart about stopped when he heard this information coming from their chieftain’s mouth. “Please tell me this isna so.”

“I ke
n they have been our enemies fer years now,” said the chieftain, “but I didna have a choice, Ian. It was either thet or watch me camp burn and me clan die. We dinna have the manpower te fight them. No’ without Storm, and ye and the boys gone as well.”

“And they jest happened te show up and offered their help?” Ian knew this didn
’t sound like the MacTavishes at all. Living with them for a year he knew that they didn’t help anyone before they made an alliance, and very rarely even after they’d made one. This seemed very odd to him. “Ye canna trust them,” he said. “I dinna like this at all.”

“Well, it sound
s like a guid thing te me,” said Kyla. “If we have an alliance with them we’ll no’ have te worry aboot healing with herbs or getting’ killed. Come on,” she said to Annabel. “I see a lot o’ wounded we need to heal. Chieftain, can I start with ye?”

“Nay, Kyla, help the others first,” said The MacKeefe. “I need te talk te Ian right now.”

“Well, come on then,” she said to Niall, Tam and the others, and they headed back to the campfire with Annabel and her bairn as well as the wolfhound at her side. “Who wants te be first?”

The exchange of looks between the chieftain and his wife
as Kyla walked away was not missed by Ian. He felt a knot in his stomach and he didn’t need to look up to see a murder of crows sitting in the tree above him because he could feel that they were there.

“Nay, Kyla, it
is no’ a guid thing. No’ at all,” he said under his breath, thinking how innocent she was, and not wanting any of that to ever change. But he knew it was about to.

“
Ian, ye ken thet every alliance comes with a price,” the chieftain told him.

“
Aye,” said Ian. “And since ye sent Kyla away in order te talk te me I can only guess thet ye had te betroth one o’ our lassies te them in exchange.”

“I did,” he said with a nod of his head. “It
was what they wanted.”

“Couldna ye have given them somethin’ else instead?
”

“Like what?” asked the chieftain. “The MacGillivrays already took our sheep and coin, and
most of our supplies fer the winter. As it is we’ll have te kill off a guid amount o’ the cattle in order te make it te spring.”

“We dinna need their alliance,” said Ian. “We can all move te Hermitage Castle and our clan will be
even stronger if we are all together.”

“Ian, I can’t
believe you are sayin’ that,” said Clarista. “After all, you and your friends are the ones that love the Highlands more than anyone. And you know Storm and some of the others will not agree to being solely a Lowland clan.”

“And neither will I,” said the chieftain. “
The MacKeefes have held this land in the Highlands fer many generations and we’re no’ goin’ te leave. We’re goin’ te keep Hermitage Castle and our Highland camp both. And with more alliances, we’ll have no problem doin’ this. We jest have to align with the MacTavishes by marriage and we’ll be well protected. They are a fierce clan and a guid ally te have te fight against clans like the MacGillivrays.”

“And which o’ our lassies
did ye betroth te those bastards in exchange?” asked Ian, already knowing the answer, and wishing this wasn’t happening right now.

“
They demanded a virgin,” said the chieftain, “as is expected. And we dinna have any single lassies o’ age but two. And one o’ them was no’ a true MacKeefe so they wouldna accept her.”

“Ye m
ean they didna want Coira?” asked Ian.

“Aye,” answered the chieftain. “
They didna want her becooz she was truly a MacDuff. And I’m sorry, but thet only left one lassie thet I could give them thet was a virgin and old enough but no’ already married. This lassie is our only hope te form the alliance. And if we say no, I can assure ye the MacTavishes will be the ones te attack us next time instead o’ helpin’ us. I’m sorry, but I had te do it, Ian, I had no choice. The lassie I betrothed te the MacTavishes in order te form the alliance is Kyla.”

Chapter 10

Kyla turned back to ask Clarista a question, and when she did she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. She felt as if someone had just punched her in the gut, and she couldn’t even find the breath to speak. Had she just heard the chieftain correctly? She wanted to think not, but when everyone became silent when they saw her approach, and she saw the look of pity on Clarista’s face and also the look of anger on Ian’s, she knew it was no mistake.

“I . . . I am the trade in this alliance?” she finally squeaked out.

“Kyla, sweetheart,” said Clarista, coming and taking her hands. “Don’t feel as if it’s a bad thing. After all, you are twenty years old, and most men want a bride much younger.”

She knew Clarista meant well, and was trying to tell her that she should be glad she’d finally be getting married, but still it only made her feel worse.

“How could ye do somethin’ like this without waitin’ and talkin’ te at least her own brathair?” asked Ian, disgust dripping from his words. “Ye canna send her. I willna let ye.”

“Ian, haud yer wheesht,” said the chieftain. “Ye ken thet either meself or me son
, Storm are the only ones thet make these decisions. And since Storm is in England right now, I have the final say, so dinna anger me or I’ll make ye pay fer yer brashness with the way ye’re speakin’ te me.”

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” said Clarista to her husband, obviously trying to protect Ian.

“Ye are a fool, auld man if ye think the MacTavishes will honor this alliance,” Ian warned him. “Ye are only sendin’ Kyla inte the hands o’ our enemy, and God kens what they’ll do te her once she’s there.”

“Are ye challengin’ me?” snorted the chieftain, his
good hand going to the hilt of his sword.

“Do ye think ye can win in a fight against me, at yer age
and in yer condition?” Ian’s hand went to the hilt of his sword as well.

Kyla knew she had to step in and do something fast. If not, Ian and their chieftain would be fighting to the death ov
er an alliance that was supposed to bring about peace. She knew the chieftain had at one time given one of his own daughters to their enemy, the MacDougalls, in an alliance just like this. The marriage had worked out fine and his daughter, Blair was happily married to Duncan MacDougall with several children, and the clans were united as one because of it.

She didn’t want to see the MacKeefe clan being slaughtered by a much lar
ger clan like the MacGillivrays. Nor did she want to see Ian and the chieftain fighting when there was one simple thing to do that would stop all this nonsense and save many lives in the process.

“I’ll do it,” she said softly
, and both the men stopped their quarreling when they heard her.

“What did ye say?” asked the chieftain.

“I said I’ll do it. I’ll marry one o’ the MacTavishes in order to secure the alliance between our clans.”

“Kyla, ye dinna ken what ye’re sayin’,” said Ian
shaking his head.

“I ken exactly what I’m sayin’.”
She would be strong and help the clan in whatever way she could. She knew that’s what her parents would have wanted her to do if they’d still been alive. She was sure they’d be proud of her decision.

“Ye dinna want te marry one o’ the MacTavishes, believe me
,” Ian continued to try to convince her. “Ye’d be better off bein’ single fer the rest o’ yer life.”

“Single fore’er?” she asked.
As scared as she was at this moment at what she was expected to do, her anger was stronger when she heard Ian not only telling her she didn’t want to get married, but that she would be happy being single the rest of her life.

“How the hell would ye ken what
I want?” she blurted out.

“I’m jest sayin’ . . . thet they are no’ who ye think they are. Besides, Aidan will ne’er let ye do it.”

“First of all,” she said, squinting her eyes and setting her mouth firm, “I realized recently thet I dinna really ken ye, Ian MacKeefe, any better then I ken the MacTavishes, so why does it matter?”

“I’
m tellin’ ye, Kyla, ye dinna want te do it.”

“I’m no’ finished,” she
spat. “And I’m tired o’ ye and me brathair tellin’ me what I can or canna do. I am twenty years auld and I want te get married and have bairns afore I’m deid,” she told him. “And no’ ye nor me brathair are goin’ te stop me from doin’ this. I told the chieftain I agree te the terms o’ the alliance, so why dinna ye jest haud yer wheesht? Becooz I dinna think ye have any right te tell me who I want te marry.”

With that, she stormed away, leaving everyone just standing there with their mouths hanging open and lost for words.

Ian rushed after Kyla as she made her way up the hil
l and over a field of heather. It was a beautiful autumn day and there were fluffy white clouds in the sky and the smell of sweet wildflowers in the crisp mountain air. But this was all wasted on Ian, as he could only focus on the terrible hand life had just dealt them.

“Kyla, stop already,” he called after her. “I need te talk with ye.”

“Whate’er ye have te say, I dinna want te hear it.” She continued walking quickly, and Ian had to run to catch up to her. God’s eyes, she was stubborn.

“Enough already.” He reached out and grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Ye dinna have te do this, lassie. It willna make me see ye any differently if thet’s why ye’er doin’ it.”

“Is thet what ye think?” Her face was red and it wasn’t from the elements, he knew she was very angry with him. “Ye think I do e’erythin’ jest te try te impress ye? Well, ye are wrong. Verra wrong, as I dinna care what ye think o’ me, and I will do what I want and no’ ye nor me brathair will plan me life fer me any longer.”

“Ye dinna want te marry a MacTavish, Kyla.”

“Quit sayin’ thet,” she spat. “Unless ye are plannin’ on askin’ me te marry ye, why should ye care? Is thet it? Tell me. Is thet why ye want me single fer the rest o’ me life?”

“I did
na mean it thet way.”

“O’ course ye did
na. Becooz ye want me te die without e’er couplin’ with a man or to ken what it is te be in love.”

“Och,
will ye listen te me already? It is nothin’ like thet at all.”

“Then what is it
? Please tell me. Becooz if ye dinna want me – which we’ve already seen – then what other reason could ye possibly have te want te keep me from marryin’ a man and havin’ bairns? That is, from havin’ somethin’ thet e’ery girl has but me? Bid the devil, between ye and Aidan and the way ye treat me, I’m goin’ te die before e’er havin’ the simple pleasures o’ life.”

“What?” he asked, finally starting to understand her. “So, ye’er sayin’ thet
the only reason ye’re agreein’ te the alliance is te be married and have bairns?”

“
And te help the clan,” she said. “Becooz let me tell ye, I’m tired o’ waitin’ fer a man te sweep me off me feet, or te even take me te his bed, as I doubt thet it’s e’er goin’ te happen. Besides, I have no choice. I am a part o’ the clan and neither o’ us can go against our chieftain’s wishes. By God, if ye dinna want me, then get outta me way and stop tryin’ te keep me from bein’ happy.”

“Kyla, I did
na ken it meant thet much to ye te be married. But I swear, marryin’ a MacTavish is no’ goin’ te make ye happy.” He daringly put his hand on her arm and thankfully she didn’t push him away. Her eyes just turned downward and she seemed to be thinking.