Page 75 of Claimed Highland Brides

DANCING AND SINGING

Daividh emerged from Aifric’s hut, his heart pounding with anxiety.

Danger.

That’s all she would tell him. Danger surrounded them. There was no way to escape it. The only way to the other side was through.

I wish I did not believe her.

He walked unseeing towards the town square, eager to find his family. It was long past time to go home. If it was not already dark, he would have packed them up already and been on his way. He quickened his steps as he heard the singing begin, the huge bonfires already alight, filling the sky with an eerie rosy glow and added to the fell atmosphere of the ceremony.

It felt like a night in which anything could happen. So it came as no surprise to him when he heard a sharp ululation—a war cry for sure—followed by the sight of running figures, armed with swords. He caught sight of his sisters-in-law standing together near the front of the crowd, surrounded by his men. Ever alert, they drew their swords in readiness to meet the threat.

Daividh began to run, drawing his own sword even as he did so.

The clash of steel on steel as well as surprised screams narrowed his focus down to the battle in front of him and he pushed, shoved, and fought his way to his family. Simon was engaged with a man wielding a large cleaver, his sword singing as he fought fiercely back. Jamesina crouched down near a wall, cradling Ùna beneath her, one hand on Fenella, the other on Maisie. The three of them formed a shield over their youngest.

Daividh noticed a strange man had planted himself in front of them, fighting off the attackers.

Daividh had no time to wonder who he was.

Delwyn was aware of the large man who had joined in protecting the girls. He was too busy using his broadsword to good effect however, slashing and stabbing anyone who dared to come close to the women.

When three of their companions lay prone on the ground the rest of the brigands ran off. Delwyn turned around, searching the girls for any injuries.

“Are ye alrigh’?” he asked as he stared into Jamesina’s eyes..

Jamesina unfurled herself, allowing him to help her to her feet. She reached down and pulled her sisters up to her. “We are fine. Thank ye,” she said with a trembling smile to Delwyn. She turned to her brother in law. “Who were those men?”

Daividh sighed, shaking his head to indicate his own confusion. He walked to one of the prone bodies on the ground and turned it around. The man groaned and Daividh was glad he was not dead. “Who sent ye?” he demanded.

One of the man’s eyes was swollen shut; his lip was puffy as well. He groaned again, trying to turn his head away.

“Tell me, who sent ye?” Daividh demanded.

The man said nothing.

Simon crouched down and flicked at his plaid. “Hunter,” he said shortly.

Daividh gave him a sharp glance. “Ye’re certain?”

Simon nodded. “Aye.”

Daividh bit his lip, Aifric’s words echoing in his mind. A shadow in his peripheral vision had him whipping around to see the stranger that had fought alongside them. By his dress, Daividh could see he was no local merchant or sellsword.

“Who are ye?” Daividh growled, feeling out of patience.

The man bowed to him. “Lord Delwyn Barton is my name.”

Daividh nodded, digging into his purse and emerging with a gold coin. He stretched his hand out to the man. “Yer help is appreciated.”

Delwyn looked down at his hand with evident reluctance. He shook his head. “Keep your money...” He hesitated, glancing at Daividh assessingly.

“Speak,” Daividh said impatiently.

“I would ask a different boon if I may…I find myself at…a bit of a crossroads and would very much appreciate the chance at employment.” He looked at Daividh and then at the men around them. “You look like a man of means. Perhaps you can use a steward? I assure you that I can be very useful.”

Daividh snorted. “Why would an English lord want to work for a Scottish laird?”