Prologue
“Do ye promise tae protect yer clan with yer last breath?”
“Aye, I do.”
“Do ye promise tae guide yer clan tae being the greatest in all of Scotland?”
“Aye, I do.”
Finley McPherson shifted her stance to take some of the pressure off her right knee. One of the warriors had knocked it with their sword during early morning sparring, and she knew there would be a bruise by the end of the day. Standing on the hard ground wasn’t helping either, but she had to be there that day.
It was a lovely day to have the ceremony outdoors, the sun shining down on the crowd without a cloud in the sky. It was as if the gods were blessing the choice for laird as well.
Today was the day that the McPherson clan crowned a new Lady. It had been a long day coming, the clan without a laird since the McGregor clan had overtaken their laird and killed him. Finley didn’t feel any grief over the loss. The former laird had been a harsh one and oftentimes didn’t care much about anyone but himself.
As a result, their lands had suffered. The clan had lost many of the poor farmers and the elderly, without enough food to go around in the harsh winter months. Many of the warriors had been lost due to the laird’s insistence on violence and bloodshed, and if they were attacked right now, Finley knew that they would likely be taken over once more.
If it hadn’t been for the McGregor laird and the protection of his own warriors for the past few months, then they wouldn’t have survived at all. There were many that didn’t like the fact that another clan had taken them over, afraid of what was to come, but the McGregor laird had proven not to want to destroy their clan. Instead, he had provided for them while the elders decided on the next laird, and when the decision had been left up to the people, a surprising new ruler had been chosen...
Now, she was watching what she hoped would be the turning point in their clan, in their lives, and best for their future.
The elder turned toward the gathered crowd, holding his hands up high. “All hail the new Lady of McGregor!”
“Aye!” everyone called out, including Finley, raising their fists in the air and cheering.
The new Lady stood, now wearing the crown, and Finley drew in a breath, surprised to feel the emotion starting to build in her body. She had prepared for this day, for what she might feel, but nothing compared to this singular moment in her life. Finley doubted anything would rival it.
The McGregor clan now had a female laird, and it just so happened to be Finley’s aunt.
“Thank ye,” her aunt murmured, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Thank ye for allowing me tae serve this clan and bring us intae the next generation!” There were more cheers.
Finley felt the prick of tears in her eyes, pride swelling in her breast. Her aunt had always been seen as one who was calm in the face of panic, the one who had stood up to the laird more times than Finley cared to count. She was surprised that her aunt was never thrown into the dungeon because of her outspoken nature.
Finley cleared her throat to rid herself of the emotion and started toward her aunt, her sword pressing between her shoulder blades. She was a warrior for the McGregor clan, one of the few females that chose to take up the sword for their clan. She had started as a young girl, deciding that she didn’t want to be another lass who wed and had bairns.
She wanted to be more.
The former laird had laughed in her face, telling her she was nothing more than a scrawny lass but that if she could best his best warrior, then he would consider it.
Finley had been frightened. A young lass at the tender age of twelve going up against a seasoned warrior was certain doom. That warrior, Leeth, had taken one look at her and laughed, stating that he wasn’t one to hurt a child, a lass no less.
When Finley had pulled her dagger and played the crying, innocent child in order to draw him near, he had fallen for it, and she had drawn first blood. First blood was the symbolic means to winning a fair fight. Leeth avoided her for a week afterward, but the laird had held up his end of the bargain and allowed her to train.
Now she was one of the top warriors in terms of speed and agility, often sent on scouting missions as her lithe form was able to conceal far better than some of the brawny warriors. Others often underestimated her, which always played to Finley’s advantage.
She had been involved in some of the former laird’s wars as well, and while many didn’t come home, Finley had—but not without her scars.
Now the clan had a new leader, one that Finley had been looking forward to. Her aunt was the one that had raised her and her siblings alone when their mother had passed on with her stillborn bairn. Their father had gone into a deep grieving, and one day, he walked off and never returned. There were still questions about if he were alive to this day, but Finley cared not. He had left them when they needed him the most, and if her aunt had not stepped in, they would have been cast out of their hut and left to fend for themselves.
Finley reached her aunt, a proud smile on her face. “Well now, I guess I will need tae address ye as Lady.”
Her aunt laughed, removing the crown that had been placed on her red curls.
“Nay, Finley. I will laugh every time ye do it. Aunt Edna is just fine by me.”
She gave Finley a critical eye, from her white tunic to her breeks that protected her from injuries. While some of the warriors had chosen to wear their ceremonial kilts today, Finley had not.
“One of these days, ye will want tae put a dress on, lass,” her aunt said wryly, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
