At least he wouldn’t be so worried about her all the time.
Ian urged his horse forward, realizing that Lomas was a good ways ahead of him and forced his thoughts deep down inside. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by his thoughts again. He was the laird, ruling over the great Wallace clan that struck fear into the hearts of their enemies. He had a great challenge ahead of him.
“Tell mah,” a smug voice said to his left. “Are ye thinking aboot the buxom lass at the pub last night?”
Ian allowed himself to smirk. “Nay though I know yer jealous she dinna once glance in yer direction.”
His closest friend, Remy, bellowed with laughter. They had grown up together, Remy’s da one of the laird’s warriors until he was struck down on the battlefield. For a while there, Ian thought that Iris might one day wed his best friend and pull him further into the family.
After all, Remy was a handsome bloke with an ego as big as Scotland.
“Well I dinna have a problem garnering sympathy,” Remy teased. “From the blonde and the brunette above the stairs.”
It was Ian’s turn to let out a rusty laugh. “One of these days yer gonna meet yer match, Remy.”
“Nay, not mah,” Remy replied, scratching at his chest with his hand. “I’m not the type tae settle on just one ye know.” He then eyed Ian. “But ye will have tae take a wife for the clan. Will it be Hannah or Tessa?”
Two of the bonniest lasses in all the clan. Both would love to be his wife, his equal, and though he was drawn to their beauty, both were far too timid for him. It was expected, now that Ian was laird and there was a need for an heir. Ian was also approaching his thirty-first year at the end of the summer. Most already were wed and had a passel of bairns running afoot. “Nay,” he finally said. “I will leave ye those tae try yer wiles on.”
Remy grinned. “Already done that mah brother. Already done that.”
They were silent for a moment before he shifted his horse closer to his. “Wot do ye think we will find there?”
“Hopefully a happy sister,” he answered, clearing his throat. If Iris wasn’t still happy with Lennox, then there would be someone meeting the end of his sword.
“Aye I donna think we have tae worry aboot her happiness,” Remy added with a shake of his head. “Yer sister is in love with that fool.” He then sighed. “I just hope we donna find cause tae remove her from her home.”
That was what Ian was worried about as well. If there was discord in their clan, there had to be in this one as well and he had been given a very specific task for this journey, a journey that his da had taken before he had passed on.
Ian would not fail him or their clan. He needed to show that there was peace between the two or else there would be a war on their hands and not just from their enemies but from within.
“Despite all the years we spent fighting the MacGregors, my da had wanted this to work. The two clans weren’t the only two in all of Scotland and we would be stronger together than warring with each other. Times were changing and with italliances were being formed to come out the strongest clan in Scotland. Remember,” Ian reminded him, his voice quiet so that only he could hear. “We donna strike unless they strike first.”
“Aye,” Remy replied, worry creasing his brow.
Clenching his jaw, he moved his horse to a gallop, bringing him closer to his sister and their destination.
2
It was late midday when the first farms came into view, their owners tolling in the fields under the warm sun. There was not a vast difference between clans most times, with the same farmers supplying the clan and its laird with the necessities right to the warriors that protected the clan.
Still, the color of one’s tartan was what separated them from each other, and started the battles that raged on for centuries.
Ian had never been this close to the MacGregor village before, their battles raging on near the border. From his vantage point, he could see the swirling smoke from the huts just over the last rise, the sounds of chattering reaching his ears. It wouldn’t be long before they would come into view, and he was already steeling himself against the looks they would get. Their tartans would give them away immediately.
“Halt!”
“Bleedy hell,” Remy muttered as they pulled up their horses. There were four warriors dressed in Macgregor colors at the last bend, their hands on the hilts of their swords and grim looks on their faces.
Ian held up his hand, halting his guards from approaching the warriors. “We come invited.”
One of the warriors nudged their horse forward, his face emotionless. “Aye Wallace. We have been waiting on ye.”
Dalziel motioned his horse forward. “That is laird Wallace tae ye, MacGregor.”
Ian fought the need to roll his eyes at his captain’s overbearing attitude as of late, wondering if one day his tongue would get them all into trouble. “Forgive mah,” he replied evenly. “We were held up by the rains.” While he had taken his da’s seat, he still didn’t feel like the laird. Some days, he expected his da to walk into the great hall and shoo him out like he had when Ian was younger. Stephan had supported his brother the best he could, but the clan’s fate rested on Ian’s shoulders and he felt the weight every single day.
It was why he was here, wanting to protect the clan that he fiercely loved. It was why he had chosen to bring a small guard with him, hoping that his sister could set up a meeting with her new laird so that they could talk peace. Ian didn’t want it to appear that they were trying to be threatening, nor did he want them to think he had other designs on why he was there.
