2
Finley urged her horse forward, feeling the pull on her muscles as she hurried back to the keep. The skin around her ankles was chafed from the rope, and she felt slightly dizzy from having the blood return to her head after being upside down for so long, but the last thing she wanted was to show that Scot that she was weak.
She had been stupid, however, to not remember the trap that had been set, intended to keep bandits and the like from using the dilapidated hut as a gathering spot. It had been Finley’s responsibility to check the spot once every fortnight, to chase off anyone that was there and make certain the trap was still in place.
That didn’t mean she was to test them with her own body, however.
Thank the gods that it had been the stranger that had found her and not one of the other warriors! There were a few that thought she got special treatment now that her aunt was the leader of the clan, but their assumptions were far from the truth.
Sure, her aunt had moved her and her siblings into the keep and out of the hut they had shared for years, but Finley still worked just as hard serving her aunt as she would any other laird that would have taken the position.
Normally she didn’t take a step in the wrong direction, but today was clearly not her finest moment.
Finley snorted as the horse picked the familiar path through the woods, one that would have her come out on the other side of the village.
Ever since she had bested Leeth as a young lass, Finley knew that she had to continue to prove herself so that no one would think that Leeth had let her win. He had told her that she was the only one that thought that way, but Finley wasn’t immune to the whispers or the looks of the other warriors when they thought they could best her.
Finley didn’t like to lose at anything, and she certainly wasn’t going to show any weakness.
Finally, the woods broke free to the pasture near the village, and she slowed her horse, drawing in a deep breath to cleanse her thoughts. What happened today mattered not. She had done what she had set out to do, and no one was going to know that she had failed miserably at it to begin with.
Finley guided the horse through the village, acknowledging those that called out her name as she passed. She loved this clan. Finley had given her blood, sweat, and sometimes tears to this cause, and she would protect this clan and her aunt until her dying day. There was nothing more important than her loyalty.
She reached the stables and hopped down off the horse, handing the reins to the waiting stable lad. “Give her extra grain, will ye?”
“Aye, I will,” the stable boy said as he led the horse into the stables.
Finley wiped her hands on her breeks and headed toward the keep, hearing thunder in the distance. Another rainy afternoon meant that she couldn’t escape to the warrior sparring circle when her aunt started in on her learning the intricacies of how to run a clan.
She preferred a sword to a ledger, even if she had to hold it in the rain. Her aunt thought that Finley would enjoy being her second-in-command one day, and she had started lessons with her niece on some of the ledgers that her steward kept.
She had tried to tell Aunt Edna that she wasn’t interested, but the new Lady had reminded Finley that there would come a day that she wouldn’t be able to pick up her sword as easily.
She would wait on that day.
She crossed through the entryway that led to the keep’s courtyard, noting the guards that walked the newly constructed wall.
The former laird had let the keep fall into disrepair while he was attempting to conquer other clans and the wall along with it. There had been sections missing, leaving the keep completely indefensible.
Aunt Edna had declared the wall to be the most important, leaving some of the keep neglected while they strengthened the wall.
Finley strode into the courtyard and straight in the keep, the smell of freshly baked bread heavy in the air. The keep was a strong stone structure, having served generations of McPherson families. The large fireplace along one wall heated the great hall, the walls covered in tapestries that depicted the generations past.
Finley had asked her aunt shortly after her crowning why she hadn’t destroyed the tapestries, and the woman had stated that they were a part of the past that needed to be remembered.
So, they had been cleaned and remained hanging on the wall, a reminder of what the clan had suffered through to get to this moment.
“Finley!”
Finley turned to see her youngest sister, Lisbeth, hurry toward her, her hair streaming behind her.
“Lisbeth,” she replied as her sister stopped before her. “Where are ye going in such a manner?”
“Aunt Edna is looking for ye,” she stated, her hands on her hips. At age ten, Lisbeth was already proving to be far more hard headed than Finley ever had been.
Often, she could be found in the stables with the horses or climbing the trees beyond the keep. Already Lisbeth had one arm set being broken by a fall out of the tree.
“Wot does she want?” Finley asked, smoothing her sister’s hair down on her head.
