“Och are ye gonna preen or go speak tae them?” Stephan teased, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m preparing mahself,” Ian shot back with his own grin. “But it never hurts tae look good doing it.”
Stephan shook his head, a low chuckle coming from him. “Iris would tell ye tae take yer arse in there and get the job done.”
Och, Ian wished that his sister was present. She had a way to give him the strength to fight. Iris had always been a lass not to give up herself, fighting against what others thought was a weakness with her being of the female form. Ian had greatly admired his sister.
This, though, he would have to do by himself if he wanted to see her on MacGregor land again.
Without another word to his brother, Ian made his way to the council room, stepping inside. At once, the entire roomstood and pressed their fists over their hearts, a sign of respect for Ian’s title. Dalziel was there as well, his eyes following Ian’s every move as he should as the captain of the guard. After their discussion on the MacGregor land, Dalziel had kept his distance from Ian, only making an appearance to give the reports that were required.
It was Dalziel that had reported to Ian about the war party and what he truly wished to do. “I want yer permission tae track them down,” he had said that afternoon as Ian had listened to his report. “We have tae not show weakness.”
“Nay,” Ian had answered. “I want peace, not bloodshed. Let them be unless they attack anyone on our land.” Dalziel had shown his displeasure but in the end, he had heeded Ian’s words and not engaged with the war party.
“Be seated,” Ian said as he took his chair in the center of the long table, his brother positioning himself over his left shoulder.
The room seated themselves and Ian poured himself some ale before speaking. “I called ye here tae discuss the alliance with the MacGregor clan.”
“But they dinna wish tae have an alliance,” one of his council members spoke up. “Why would we waste our time tae discuss that?”
“Because,” Ian said, keeping his irritation at bay for now. “I donna wish tae watch any more of our clansmen be cut down by a sword. I want tae see our bairns grow without the threat of war in their lives.”
There was the clearing of throats around him, some sidelong glances, but Ian maintained his calm nature, knowing he was facing an uphill battle. “Donna ye wish for the same? Donna ye wish that yer grandchildren will never know the pain of losing someone tae some senseless battle?”
“The battle is never senseless,” Dalziel spoke up, his gaze narrowing. “They are our enemies. We must strike before they have a chance tae take advantage of us.”
“I agree,” one of the council members spoke up. Ian knew who he was. He had lost three sons in the various battles over the years, the last one cut down while riding next to Ian. He had every reason to hate the MacGregor clan, every reason. “We must strike before they can take more of our sons, our daughters.”
“And then wot?” Ian asked softly. “Wot happens when we defeat them only tae lose the next time? Do ye wish tae always have to worry about protecting our borders, our farms, our future?”
The room fell silent and Ian could see that some were thinking of his words. It would never stop until one clan stood against another, demanding peace. Ian wished to try again. He had learned more about what it meant to be a laird, what Laird MacGregor was dealing with day in and day out. They could find some common ground.
He was sure of it. “Give mah one more chance,” he begged them. “Let mah try.”
“We will vote,” the eldest council advisor announced. “Let it be known who is in favor of the laird’s request?”
Ian watched with bated breath as hands went up around the room, though Dalziel’s stayed at his side. The advisor counted the hands and then banged his weathered hand on the table. “Mah laird, ye have our blessing. May the gods be on yer side.”
Ian could hardly contain his excitement as he exited the council room, catching up with his brother. “I need for ye tae come with mah this time,” he told him, clapping him on the shoulder. “And Remy as well.”
“Dalziel should come,” Stephan added. “He should make the formal apology still.”
Ian frowned, remembering the insults that his captain had hurled at the laird two months prior. While he had demanded that Dalziel apologize to the laird and his council, they had been forced to leave before the captain had gotten a chance. “Tis will be much more difficult with him there. He should stay behind.”
Stephan shook his head. “Nay Ian. He needs tae be there and hear what the laird says. He needs tae show that he is on yer side and prove his allegiance.” Stephan took a step back. “I’m not so certain that he is.”
Ian had thought the same, just not aloud. “Fine,” he forced out. “He can accompany us but the moment he starts anything, I will run mah sword through him. And ye are coming with us.”
Stephan chuckled. “I’m glad ye are asking mah tae join ye. I want tae meet this lass of yers.”
Ida. Ian swallowed hard as he thought of her lovely face and what she must be thinking of him being gone for so long. She invaded his dreams regularly and was not far from his thoughts during the day. Would she remember him at all?
Would she wish to see him or had his absence forced her to move on with her life? How would he react if he went back and she had found a husband? “She’s not mah lass.”
“But she could be,” Stephan replied. “Ye havena looked at another lass since ye returned Ian. Tis clear tae mah that she occupies yer thoughts more than ye care tae admit.”
Aye, his brother was not wrong on that account either.
