Saoirse, Alex and Brighde’s oldest daughter, also married a man named Magnus. For everyone’s sake, they knew her husband, Magnus Mackenzie, as Óg, or the lesser, while the older Magnus Sinclair was called Mòr, or the greater.
“He traveled all the way to France to fight alongside Blake. Watching Grandda, ma da, and ma uncles is like watching the Devil and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse riding into battle. Any foe with a peck of sense runs. Those who dinna have the sense God gave an ant soon learn nae to cross the Sinclairs.”
“I feel guilty that yer clan—”
“Our clan, Greer. Our.” Thor wrapped his arms around her hips loosely and rested his hands on her backside.
“I feel guilty our clan is riding into any battle because of me. The English wouldnae have come here if it werenae for me. Grandda wouldnae be swinging a sword tomorrow.”
“What day is tomorrow? Wednesday, I think. Aye, he would. He goes to the lists on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Just a typical day for him.”
“Dinna tease, Thor. I dinna find this funny. I’m scared. If aught happens to Grandda, then it’s all ma fault.”
“Nay, it’s nae. Grandda has been a warrior since he was auld enough to lift a steel sword. He got his first wooden sword when he was five. He rode into battle for the first time at three-and-ten. If he wasna confident aboot the outcome, he would have found another solution. It’s nae that he’s immortal, despite what all of us want to believe, but there are few people with his experience. With that experience comes the knowledge of how to read his opponents and always be a few steps ahead. I ken ye wish to be outside, and I willna stop ye. I dinna want ye sneaking out if I forbid it. Please, just promise me that ye’ll stay with Da, Mama, and Shona. Ye may have to help ma parents to keep Shona from joining the fight.” Thor grinned, only half kidding. It wouldn’t surprise him if his impatient sister put an arrow between Sir Richard’s eyes.
“But what if—”
“Greer, I’ve trained ma entire life to become tánaiste and eventually laird. I dinna want to take that first role any time soon. But I’ve always kenned it will come one day. Ma family already has plans in place for that inevitability. Grandda will probably die a vera auld mon in his sleep. Or he could die on a battlefield. Either way, we all ken what to do.”
“But I dinna want to speed that day along.”
“Mo ghaol,I ken ye dinna come from a loving family like mine. I ken ye havenae experienced the love I have or felt like ye belong the way I have ma entire life. But ye are ma wife now, and ye will have a place in this family and clan that ye should have claimed eight years ago. The one I should have made sure ye had. Ye are a Sinclair. It’s just that simple. We will love and protect ye and welcome ye the same as if ye were born into this family. Ask Cerys if ye doubt it. She was a Kerr, and we havenae gotten along with her clan since Auntie Brighde came to Dunbeath, on the run from her father. Nay one doubted how much Cerys and Blake love each other, and nay one will doubt how ye and I feel aboot each other. They accepted her just as they will accept ye.”
“Her clan doesnae live a stone’s throw from here and hasnae been harassing ye.” Greer knew she should let the matter go and not worry until she had a reason to, but she couldn’t help it. Guilt was an oppressive weight on her shoulders and chest, making them ache. Fear threatened to steal her breath. When Thor pressed her to lean against his chest, she gladly sank against him. He simply held her, and that was all she needed until neither could ignore the desire that grew from being so close. Careful not to slosh water over the sides, they made love before moving to the bed for a nap. The evening meal was subdued, and it was soon time for them to retire for the night. They didn’t let go of each other throughout the night, waking to make love with a desperation that each time might be their last. The predawn hours arrived far too soon.
CHAPTER23
“Look, Da.” Tate pointed toward shadows approaching from the north.
“Gunns from the looks of it,” Tavish responded.
“They’re still riding with the MacDonnells and MacDonalds. According to Thor, they ken all aboot the English insisting upon taking Greer. Have they come to fight them and us?”
“Who the bluidy hell kens with that lot? That daft MacDonnell challenged Thor, but he lost his hand before they even came to fight. I dinna ken how he plans to beat Thor with nay way to hold his sword. I ken for a fact he canna swing it with his left. He might have planned for his single combat to be to the death, but Thor seems to have won by first blood.”
Thor had explained everything that happened to his family, and Tristan filled in the parts where he’d met with the rival clans. The younger man knew it displeased his father to learn Thor amputated the MacDonnell’s arm, but Callum would never fault his son for protecting his wife. Callum simply wished Thor had knocked the man from his horse instead.
“Do ye want me to tell Grandda?”
“Aye and find Thor. He’s going to have to face them, too.”
Tate hurried down the battlement steps and across the bailey toward the armory. He noticed Liam sharpening his sword with a whetstone. He’d learned how to take care of his own sword by watching Liam and practicing with his grandfather long before Tavish gifted him with the sword strapped to his back.
“Grandda, the Gunns, MacDonnells, and MacDonalds are riding toward us. They’ll be here within a half an hour. What do ye want us to do?”
Liam cast a speculative gaze in the Gunns’ direction, even though he couldn’t see them through the wall. His eyes shifted to each of his sons, their expressions as studiously blank as his. But he knew what they were thinking as though they were his own thoughts. Tate and Thor stood together, watching the older generation and their grandfather.
“What do ye thinking they’re planning?” Tate whispered.
“I dinna ken for sure. But if I were Grandda, I would take the Gunns’ arrival as a Godsend.” Thor grinned at Tate, who nodded, certain he and Thor shared the same suspicions. Tate headed back to the battlements while Thor went to find Greer. He entered the keep and spied her at the dais. He’d kissed her goodbye almost two hours earlier. His cousins rode out while the stars were still overhead. His father and uncles would be through the postern gate by now, barely more than the shadows Tate spied.
“What’s happening?” Greer whispered as Thor took his seat beside her. He’d already had an apple and four strips of dried beef to break his fast, so he declined when a servant offered him a bowl of porridge.
“Everyone is moving into place.” He debated whether to tell Greer about the newest arrivals. “Riders approach from the north. Tate and Uncle Tavish spotted them.”
“Gunns?”
“With MacDonnells and MacDonalds.”
