Chapter One
Alex Grant spun around with his sword in hand, close enough to his brother Robbie that he nicked the skin on his wrist.
“Ow,” Robbie howled.
Alex paused to check his brother’s injury. “’Tis just a nick. Stop hollering so.” He practiced his sword skills with his younger brothers because his sire wouldn’t yet allow him to train in the lists with the Grant warriors.
Even though Alex had told his father multiple times that he was ready.
“Alex!” a booming voice called to him. Their father, John Alexander Grant, was headed straight for them, his long strides telling them he was conducting important business. Whenever he spoke to them in that tone and walked so his boots clicked on the stones, they knew better than to disobey. “You will apologize to your brother and meet me in the stables.”
Which meant he’d witnessed everything.
Alex, wide-eyed, didn’t hesitate but turned to Robbie and said, “My apologies.”
Their father had already whirled around and was headed for the stables, his dark locks waving in the wind, his right hand resting on his sheathed sword. His coloring was nearly the same as Brodie’s. Robbie’s fair looks came from their mother, Elizabeth. Alex had always looked up to him because he was such a tall man, broad-shouldered and powerful. Lately, he could nearly look him in the eye, though his sire had made no mention of it.
Brodie gave his official opinion. “Oooh, Alex. You’re in trouble. Papa will be whipping you for sure.”
Alex just rolled his eyes and said, “Brodie, go to the keep with Robbie. Mama will take care of his wound.” Then he took off after his sire, sheathing his weapon first.
While none of them had ever been whipped by the laird of Clan Grant, Alex didn’t think it was outside the realm of possibility that it could happen someday. He was a loving father, but also strict when it came to his lads. He doubted it would happen this day, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding out of his chest on the way to the stables.
He’d never been summoned to the stables before.
Nearly there, he noticed a number of steeds had been gathered outside the gates. His father barked orders at his second, telling him to ready one hundred guards for travel.
Alex’s heart pounded even faster, if that were possible. Where were they headed with so many guards? He’d never seen his father’s men in such a flurry of activity.
“Alex, inside,” his father said, pointing to the stables.
“Papa, what is it?”
“One of our allies has been attacked by a neighboring clan. We go to defend them, and I wish for you to join us.”
Excitement coursed through Alex. A mission at last! His sire had finally decided he was ready to ride with the other men. Mayhap he would fight in his first battle. How he wished he could brag to his brothers.
Once they were inside the stables, his sire turned to face him, and his voice pulled him away from the fantasy taking place in his mind. “You must promise me before we leave.”
“Anything, Da. Whatever you wish.” He stood stock still, not wanting to give his father any reason to change his mind.
“You will stay behind me at all times. You will not speak if we are greeted by anyone. You will follow my instructions without question or hesitation. Can you do that, son?”
“Aye, I promise.”
His father sighed and moved closer to grasp his shoulder. “Lad, this could be difficult for you, but I feel ’tis time for you to travel with us.”
“Why would it be difficult?” Everyone had always told him the Grant warriors were the strongest, the best in battle. Surely, they could handle whatever they faced.
“Because we may be too late.” His father turned to address a stable lad. “Saddle Midnight for my son.”
Alex’s pride soared. He didn’t have to saddle his own horse. That made him feel quite important. In fact, he puffed his chest out a bit just to see what it felt like.
He’d always looked up to his sire, wanted to be like him. Part of it was the knowledge that he would one day follow him as laird.
Chieftain Alexander Grant. That would be his title someday.
Would he be worthy of it?
