Because she’d fought so hard? He doubted that. She wasn’t any bigger than Brodie had been at ten summers.
To entertain each other? What fun could that be? Beating someone smaller than you…nay. There had to be another reason.
She sighed again and then nothing. Her grip eased on his tunic. He watched the rise and fall of her chest to see if she still breathed, but he saw nothing.
She was dead. He knew it without checking for the beating of her heart. They sat like that for several moments more, Alex not daring to move. Then he got up, settled her on the bed and sat next to her, staring at her. Time passed, but he had no idea how much because he was still trying to process what had happened. The lass couldn’t be more than twenty summers.
Dead.
Eventually, the door opened and his sire came inside. He moved closer and all Alex could say was one thing. “Why, Da? Why would four men treat a lass so?”
“Some men are fools, son. Lasses carry their babes inside them for nine moons, then they feed them from their breast. Without our mothers to protect and care for us, we’d cease to exist. Someday, mayhap they’ll tire of our cruel treatment and choose to let us die. But they have a powerful instinct to feed and protect us. Small men with minds full of ignorance repay their mothers’ nurturing by treating lasses cruelly. They’re stronger and they use it to their advantage.
“I’ll tell you to never raise a hand to a lass. ’Tis dishonorable.” His father strode toward the door, grabbed the handle, then spun around and said, “I’ll haunt you and your brothers if you don’t respect lasses and bairns. Remember that. Come with me. We’re searching for a spot to bury the laird’s family together. There’s naught more you can do for her.”
Alex looked at the dead woman on the bed—so young, so sweet—and started to gag. Repulsed by what had happened, he stood up whirled around to face the door, still gagging. He looked to his sire for help but knew there was naught he could do to change what had happened. Naught he could do to bring Sarah back.
John Alexander Grant held the door open and said, “Go to the parapets, Alex. The fresh air will clear your mind of all you’ve seen.”
He raced through the door and headed toward the end of the passageway, throwing the door open with a bang. Taking the steps two at a time, he hurried to the top. He hung over the side of the parapets for a moment before tipping his head up to the gray sky, breathing in great gulps of fresh air. A sudden calmness traveled through him, the heaving deep in his belly finally settling. He took several more deep breaths.
The door opened and his sire stepped out. “You are better?”
“Aye, my thanks. ’Tis much better up here.” His hands still gripped the cold stone as if to anchor him to something he understood.
“Use it, my son. Whenever you need a reminder of the good in the land of the Scots, climb to the parapets.”
Alex nodded, taking in the beauty of the mountains in the distance, the meadows, the rocky glens. The view was indescribable.
“Promise me you’ll never abuse a lass, never take her without her consent, and never raise a hand to her in anger. The fairer sex deserves our respect, and I’m asking you, as the future laird of Clan Grant, to see to it that every man in our clan knows it. Vow to me now that you’ll never accept brutality to the women of our land.”
He glanced at his sire and whispered, “I promise. As God as my witness, I pledge to you that I will respect women and expect the same from all in our clan.”
His sire clasped his shoulder and they stood together, looking over the land, the mounds of dead beneath them, and all the implications of battle.
Battle was not a lark. It was not something to be entered into lightly. The stakes were life and death.
He knew this moment would be locked in his memory forever.
When Alex arrived home the next day, he had the compulsion to do only one thing. After jumping off his horse and handing the reins to a stable lad, he asked his father if he could take his leave. His wish was granted.
Fortunately.
He hurried across the courtyard, followed by Robbie and Brodie and their many probing questions.
“What happened, Alex?”
“Was there a battle?”
“Did you use your sword?”
“Did you kill someone?”
“Did you see a dead body?”
He didn’t know how to answer, nor did he wish to, so he just continued jogging toward the keep. He had a sore need to do something, and he wouldn’t stop until he did.
His brothers continued to pester him, so he finally stopped inside the great hall. Turning to them, he said, “Aye. Aye to everything. I saw everything, I killed a couple of bastards who deserved it, and wish I’d killed more. Now leave me be for a bit.”
