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PROLOGUE

A sword flashed, and the song of steel rang through the air in the Highlands. It was otherwise a peaceful day. The sky was an azure blue with wispy white clouds drifting along aimlessly. Birds chirped in the forest, although many of the smaller animals had already scurried away for fear of being caught up in this whirlwind of violence. Sweat beaded on Gowan McDouglas’s forehead. His long red hair came down in lank lines to his shoulders, clinging to his scalp. He was thirty, but the lack of beard on his face made him seem younger. He roared as he brought his sword around in an arc, vengeance in his eyes. His mighty hands gripped the hilt, and the sword slashed through the air. He twisted his feet, pushing them more deeply into the ground as he missed his target and had to readjust to prevent himself from being hurt.

He angled his wrists so that the sword would absorb the blow. Reverberations ran up his arm, tingling to his shoulder. A lesser man would have dropped the sword, but not Gowan McDouglas. He batted the other sword away and then lunged forward, thrusting his shoulder and thus the entire weight of his muscular, impossibly tall body toward his enemy.

The other man cried out in pain and was sent staggering back. Gowan pressed the advantage, bending down to hook the legs of the other man away with an arm that was more like a tree trunk. The world spun for his opponent, who landed flat on his back with an anguished cry. His hands went limp by his side, and the sword dropped from his hands, rolling away harmlessly. Gowan towered over the man, blotting out the sun to cast a grim shadow over him. He held his sword down straight, the point focused on the hollow of the man’s throat.

Gowan curled his lip, and then his expression changed into a smile. He sheathed his sword and held out his hand, which the other man clasped. Gowan hauled him up to his feet.

“Why dae ye always hae tae gae sae hard?” the man, who was called Karl, said. He clutched his chest as he regained his footing, coughing and panting to try and regain his breath. Gowan chuckled to himself as he picked up Karl’s sword.

“There’s no sense in gaeing easy. It’s nae like bandits are gaeing tae gae easy on us when we’re in a real fight.”

“Aye, well, I dare say fighting them would be easier than fighting ye. For a moment there, I thought ye might actually kill me,” Karl said, shaking his head. He took his sword back and sheathed it. Gowan patted him on the back.

“There’s no chance of that. Who would I drink with if ye were gone?” he asked, and then his gaze turned to the horizon. “I just wish there were bandits out there again sae we could fight.”

“I think ye are one of the few men who would pray for the presence of bandits in the land. Dinnae let the common folk hear ye speak like that, for they would think ye are cursing them.”

“Of course I dinnae want anyone tae get hurt,” Gowan said, “but I just want something tae dae. It’s been a wee while since we haed a good fight. It’s as though all the bandits hae gone elsewhere. I cannae believe that we hae vanquished them all.”

“I’m sure we hae nae, but if they’re smart, they would stay away from here. I doubt any of them want tae get in a bout with ye given what they know about ye.”

Gowan rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air in an exaggerated gesture of annoyance. “Then perhaps I should maim myself tae give them a chance, or maybe I should leave this place and gae hunting across the Highlands. I’m sure there are other places that are in need of defending.”

Karl looked at him in scorn, his brow furrowed. Unlike Gowan, Karl did have a thick beard that covered his chin and neck in thick brown curls. “Are ye being serious? Ye would never leave yer home! What would yer father think?”

Gowan sighed, his head hanging and his shoulders a little rounded. “I’m nae sure what he would think, but I hae tae dae something, Karl. I hae just haed my thirtieth name day, and I am still waiting for my life tae begin. What’s the use of being a man without a home of his own, without a wife or a family? I hae been patient, and still, I am waiting. Perhaps I should gae out there and embrace the life of an adventurer. I could travel from town tae town, relying on the goodwill of the common folk as I deal with their problems. It would nae be a comfortable life, but at least I would be making a difference. At least I would be daeing something other than waiting.”

“Aye, and ye might be dying before tae long. Ye are a fine warrior, but the more ye seek out combat, the greater the chances of ye meeting yer end.”

“But at least I would die in glory, and my name would live on as the man who never let the bandits rest,” Gowan said, his eyes gleaming.

“Ye dae worry me sometimes, Gowan.”

“Is that nae the life ye want?” Gowan asked.

Karl shook his head vehemently. “I like a fight as much as the next man, and I know I may be speaking blasphemy here, but I hae never seen the sense in wanting tae die in a blaze of glory. I would much rather pass away when I’m sae old I barely know my own name anymore, surrounded by my family.”

“Aye, well, if we are lucky enough tae get them,” Gowan said.

At that moment, there was movement on the horizon as a rider and a horse came into view. It was a messenger from the castle, summoning Gowan back to meet with his father, who had an urgent message for him.

“Perhaps our luck is changing, Karl. Maybe there are bandits that dinnae know of my reputation after all,” Gowan said with a gleam in his eye.

* * *

The McDouglas castle had been standing proud for generations. The family was famous for providing the Highlands with mighty warriors, and Gowan was just another in a long line of men who were more than capable when a weapon was placed in his hand. He was the younger of two brothers, which meant that he had struggled to find a purpose in life. His brother, Ewan, had always known that he was going to be Laird one day and was prepared accordingly. There was a bond between Ewan and their father that Gowan was envious of, although he would never admit it to either of them. While they had been spending time together and their father, Declan, had been teaching Ewan about the mysteries of being Laird, Gowan had been sparring with a sword and training to hone the taut muscles on his body.

While Ewan had been attending feasts and banquets and forming connections with other Lairds and men of high standing in the territory, Gowan had been free to ride around the Highlands seeking adventure. Sometimes he had been too reckless in this endeavor, but as far as he saw it, there was little danger if he died. The clan would go on, and there would be no need to find a replacement for the Laird, unlike if Ewan died.

The only glimmer of hope and purpose that Gowan had was a promise that a wife would be found for him. Declan had assured him when he was younger that a suitable wife would be his, a wife of beauty and elegance and good standing. At the time, Gowan had been excited, but as the years slipped by, he had begun to wonder if it was merely something that Declan had said to placate him. Gowan was not a boy anymore, and he was ready to begin his life in earnest, but there always seemed to be something that was unattainable.

Gowan bid farewell to Karl as he made his way into the main hall, where Declan was waiting for him. The man was sitting at a table drinking some ale. There was already a goblet ready for Gowan. Gowan joined his father and drank his drink.

“Ye wanted tae see me?” Gowan asked.

“Aye,” Declan began. “There haes been a death, Gowan. Dae ye know Laird Wallace?”