“Why would they be interested in the gathering?” he asked softly. “Wot do they have tae prove?”
“Likely nothing,” his father answered with a slight shrug, his eyes on the clan. “Which is why we need tae keep our ears and eyes open when we arrive, James. There could be more at stake than just a truce. Getting that many Scots taegether is bound for a bit of trouble.”
Trouble was what he was looking for, a chance to prove himself to not only his family, but to his laird as well.
“Aye,” he replied, narrowing his gaze. “We will have tae be vigilant.”
His father gave him a solemn nod, and James felt a twinge of guilt. There was no way that his father agreed with him. Likely he was thinking that James was going to attend the negotiations and provide council when needed.
That wasn’t his plan at all.
“Move forward,” the lead warrior finally said, dropping his sword back into the scabbard strapped to his back. “They arenae interested in waging a battle right now.”
“How do ye know?” James blurted out, curious.
The warrior looked his way, his gaze hard as he glared at James. “Because they aren’t attacking us.”
The rest of the warriors snickered as James’s face turned red, looking away to keep from doing something that would embarrass himself further.
“Och, dinnae take it personally, lad,” Irvine laughed. “It was too easy.”
James ducked his head, clearing his throat. “I’m not.”
The laird chuckled as he nudged his horse forward, causing the rest to follow suit. As the small group started back on their path toward the gathering, James ignored them. He didn’t like to be the reason for their jests.
How was he ever supposed to get anyone to believe that he belonged with the warriors?
As the day turned into night, the group stopped for what would be their final night in the forest. James dismounted and grabbed his satchel, stalking toward a spot well away from the group. He didn’t want to interact with any of them this evening, especially because of how he had been embarrassed earlier.
“James.”
James turned to see his father a few feet away, a concerned look on his face.
“I dinnae wish tae talk aboot it.”
“Too bad,” his father said, motioning for James to take a seat on the nearby log. “Sit.”
James sighed as he sat on the log, holding his hands between his legs. “There’s nothing tae talk aboot.”
“Ye didnae know.”
“But I should have!” James exploded, lowering his voice the moment he realized how loud he was being. “I should have known.”
“This is aboot the discussion the other day, isnae it?” his father asked, his eyes narrowing. “Ye are still thinking of joining in the battle.”
“’Tis more than that,” James replied, clenching his fist. “’Tis much more than that, Da. I want tae be a warrior. I want tae not only join them in battle but tae be one of them!”
“James…” his father began, but James shook his head, rising from the log.
“I know wot ye are going tae say,” he started. “Ye will never allow it because I am yer only bairn. But that shouldnae be a reason that I have tae be held from wot I want!”
When he finished, his chest was heaving with both anger and shame that he couldn’t make his own decisions. He was old enough to do so, yet his parents refused to even entertain the idea, and if he truly wished to have the life he wanted, James knew he would have to leave the clan.
“We arenae,” his father said, his voice heavy as he pushed off the log. “All we are trying tae do is protect ye, Son. I cannae watch ye be killed.”
James drew in a breath as he heard the pain in his father’s voice. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that his father was only trying to keep him safe. But he didn’t want to be safe.
He wanted to live. He wanted to breathe in the air on the battlefield, feel the pride run through his veins as he wore his clan’s tartan and know that his death would be honored if it was meant to happen.
