Breckin continued, “If ye take arms against my ally, ’tis as if ye take arms against me. Ye killed the MacNab sentry on their land and I want to know why. Tell me why I should not stick my sword in ye, why my soldiers should not attack ye.” Breckin slowly pulled his sword from its scabbard, provoking John to do the same.
“My son tells me that he did not know they were the MacNab soldiers and thought they were interlopers. And he definitely would not have taken arms against them if he knew they were your ally, which he did not.”
“Your son is holding deceit, MacLaren. If there is anyone to blame for this atrocity, ’tis him. Mayhap ye should find out what he intends because if I get to him first, he shall exist no longer.”
Breckin sheathed his sword, retreated to his soldiers that awaited him in the distance, well beyond the keep’s high walls. He stood next to Gideon and recounted his conversation with John MacLaren. “I believe him not.” He turned to his commander-at-arms. “Should we skewer them or let them be?”
“Ye know my answer to that, Laird.” Gideon set his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist and nodded as if all Breckin had to do was give word for a battle to commence. He chuckled lightly. “Still, I do not wish to bloody my garments, do ye?”
Gideon shook his head with a scoff. “I suppose not. Och, the men will be displeased, though, if we leave without shedding a wee bit of blood. We have come all this way.”
“My thoughts exactly. Very well, Gideon, tell the men to drawtheir swords. We shall remind the MacLarens that we are to be feared. Och, no lives are to be taken. Let us give the MacLarens some wounds to lick, though.”
“Damnation, Laird, the men will be disappointed to give them paltry nicks. I shall tell them to hold back. Ye are being a mite merciful.”
Breckin wanted to laugh but nodded. “Perhaps I am, och I find I’m in a good-minded mood.” He flashed a smile at his comrade and chuckled.
Gideon chortled. “I’d say, Laird, that marriage might be agreeing with ye.”
He bellowed then and slapped his commander on the shoulder. With a yank to his sword, he drew it from the sheath across his back. “Damn me, I believe it does agree with me, Gideon. I find my heart is not in it, this fight with the MacLarens, och I will give it my best effort.”
Breckin waved on his men and marched beside them as they moved in to confront their enemy.
Chapter Ten
Eva awakened witha clear mind and was free of fever. She shifted her legs to the side of the bed and sat for a moment, taking in the view of the room she was in. In the small bedchamber, there was enough room for a bed with plentiful comfort for one person. A little table sat beside the bed and there was a chest situated at the end. She peered at the decorative etchings of flowers and delicate scrolls that rimmed the edges of the wooden chest, surmising that it belonged to a woman.
No window afforded light and she was unsure whether it was morning or evening. She listened for sounds or voices and heard shouts of children somewhere in the cottage and then a bang. Eva was hesitant to leave the room, unsure of where she was, and hoped Breckin would come soon. She was ravenous and could eat a good helping of food.
Near the doorway, she spotted her bag. With a glance at her lap, she realized someone had removed her garments and put her in a nightdress. She found a cup on the side table filled with water and quickly drank it, alleviating the dryness of her throat.
Suddenly, the door opened and a woman appeared. “Oh, ye are finally awake. I am Clare, Laird Buchanan’s aunt. This is my home where ye will stay, hopefully for a short time.”
“Good day, Milady Clare,” she said and offered a smile in greeting.
“Nay, lass, not milady at all. I am simply Clare. I suppose ye must be famished for ye have been asleep for nearly three days. The healer says ye shall recover from your malady.”
“Three days? I am feeling much better.” Eva felt oddly alert as if she had slept for a fortnight. “And, yes, I could use a bite to eat.”
“’Tis Willa’s cures which do wonders. I vow she has a talent for healing and ye be fortunate that she took care of ye. I shall fetch ye something to eat.” Clare left her without a parting word.
While she waited for the woman’s return, she found no basin to wash in. She quickly grabbed a clean gown from her things, donned it, and slid on her slippers. Rummaging through her satchel, she found a comb with which to detangle her hair. The door creaked open and she saw two lads with similar faces peeking in at her.
“Come in,” she said.
The two lads couldn’t be more than half a score in age. Neither spoke but stared at her with widened eyes.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The lads moved farther into the room. “I am Connor and this is my brother Caden.”
“’Tis a pleasure to meet you both. Are you Clare’s sons?” Though now that she thought about it, Clare appeared a mite too aged to be the lads’ mother.
Connor shook his head. “Our mother is dead.”
“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Does Clare take care of you then?”
Caden nodded. “Aye, mostly…sometimes. Och, Breckin is responsible for us but he is mean and oft makes us do tiresome chores.”
