Alex strode up to stand in front of Finlay. Hell, but when had the lad grown so large? He remembered him as a little sprite of a laddie, just as he remembered all of these young ones. He could see the lad bore his own share of bruises, telling him how hard he’d fought to free Kyla from her imprisonment.
“Finlay, my thanks for returning my daughter to me and for joining her in her endeavor to ensure she did not go off alone. I know how headstrong she can be, so I do not need the particular details. I lay all the blame on Buchan and de La Porte. You are still a valued member of our clan, should you choose to stay.”
“I do, my laird.”
“That pleases me.” He glanced up at the sky, pausing before he dropped his gaze back to Finlay’s. “Then I only have one other question for you. Which one would you like—Glenn of Buchan or Simon de La Porte? I’ll give you first choice.”
Finlay smiled. “I choose de La Porte. I’ve dreamed of killing that bastard.”
“He’s all yours. I will gladly take on Glenn of Buchan.” He moved over to his stallion and mounted.
“Time to end this.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alex rides into battle with a need for vengeance unlike any he’s ever felt before…
Alex Grant nodded to Jake and Jamie to give their final instructions to their men. He needed a quiet moment of clarity, something he often found helpful before battle.
He rode Black Lightning down the lines of horses covering the landscape. He found a small knoll and led his horse up to the top so he could look over the leagues of men here to fight for hisclann.
Dusk was descending fast and he closed his eyes to feel the light breeze coming in from the mountains, the sweet Scottish air feeding his soul, exhilarating him like nothing else could. His nephews, David, Roddy, Braden, and his youngest son, Connor, all wore expressions of anticipation. They were eager to be involved in the action for the first time.
His eldest sons, Jake and Jamie, carried the hardness of experience across their cheekbones, their gazes discerning, always searching for something unusual, anything to help in their preparation for battle. He and Maddie had done a fine job raising their bairns.
Hellfire, he was a proud man. Proud of his wife and all she’d endured over the years, of his sons and daughters, of how deeply they’d connected with the Ramsay clan, of how both clans dared to bring women warriors along with them. He thought of his sire and mother and how proud they would be of all they had become.
The breeze lifted the Grant banner and the Ramsay banner not far away, the snapping and billowing of the flags theonly other sound to be heard outside his sons’ voices and the occasional shifting of horses’ hooves. His sons finished giving the instructions necessary to guarantee they would fight strong and dominate the battle.
Good must triumph over evil today.
The last thing he did was to bow his head in prayer that the Lord would see them all through this battle and that he would fare better than he had in the last one, the one that had nearly cost him his life. All was quiet as his men followed him, honoring his moment of silence.
Black Lightning was so in tune with his rider that when Alex finished his prayer, the great beast lifted his front legs and stood on his hind legs, his dark head raised up as he whinnied, giving the warriors the signal that his master was ready for battle.
The Grant war whoop, uttered by hundreds, rang out over the valley.
The battle was on.
Chapter Nineteen
Finlay battles de la Porte inside Buchan Castle and saves Alex.
Out of the corner of his eye, he (Finlay) saw de La Porte leaving through the tower door. Cailean, who’d already knocked his second attacker down, shouted, “I’ve got this. Go after him.”
Finlay didn’t need to be told twice. He followed the bastard out the door and searched the area at the back of the keep. De La Porte was heading for the wall behind the kitchens, so Finlay pursued him without hesitation. The bastard was almost at the wall when Finlay shouted, “You’ll never get up there without my sword in your back. Fight me like a true warrior, or are you all talk? I never did see you use your sword in the lists.”
Simon spun around with his sword in his hands and lunged at Finlay, first from the left, then from the right. They parried for a short time while de La Porte did his best to taunt him. “That lass of yours sure had nice breasts. Did she tell you I tasted her everywhere while she was my captive? She offered me her maidenhead, too.” His grin hatched from the devil itself.
Finlay blocked out his comments, fighting for all he was worth. Off to the side, he noticed two of Buchan’s men about to join in the melee, but one was taken out with an arrow to his chest and the second took a dagger right between his eyes.
Logan shouted, “Say the word and I’ll have one of my archers take him out, MacNicol.”
“Stay out. He’s mine.” Finlay growled, then brought his sword against de La Porte’s so hard that sparks flew overhead. Their duel continued, Finlay doing his best to drive his sword home. He needed to finish this for Kyla and for himself.
“You have no skills, wee laddie. You’ll never beat me. I’m going to steal Kyla again as soon as I get out of here. All the Grants are here, so my path will be obstacle free. My guess is you took her to Cameron land, right near the wealthy coffers of Lochluin Abbey, which is exactly where I’m headed.”
Finlay swung again, but was blocked. “See? You savages think being a Highlander makes you stronger than other warriors? See the truth in front of you. You’re nothing. You don’t deserve the lass. I’ll take her with me. She’ll gladly trade you for a true man.”
