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Tovie sat in the chamber, gripping the arms of her throne tightly. She chewed the inside of her mouth. Nerves fluttered within, and her throat tightened. Hearing that her husband had been killed was one thing, but hearing that the enemy commander was riding toward the village and approaching the castle was quite another. She was young but fierce, and she wasn’t about to show anyone that she was weak. This was her first test as the new leader of this clan, and she wasn’t about to fail it. Her gaze flickered toward the door. For a moment, she wondered how Fraser would have gone about handling this. Most likely he would either leap from the throne with a sword in his hand and attack, or he would offer to resolve things over a drink.

Tovie was going to do neither. She had no idea what the enemy commander wanted, but she planned to use diplomacy and negotiation to resolve the situation rather than brute force.

She heard footsteps before she saw the man. When he emerged through the doorway, she was stunned by the size of him. He was like a mountain, standing tall and muscular with sandy hair. There was something familiar about him as well, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. He looked around the chamber as he walked into the middle of the room, and there was a strange look in his eyes, as though this wasn’t the first time he had been here.

“Hae ye come here tae gloat, or are ye here tae claim compensation for yer dead?” Tovie asked, trying to sound authoritative, although she wasn’t sure how her voice sounded. It echoed around the chamber, and she cringed when it came back to her. The man regarded her with a tilted expression. His face was difficult to read. His features moved little.

“Are ye the widow of the laird?” he asked, refusing to answer her questions.

“Aye,” Tovie replied, leaning forward a little. Her nails dug into the wooden arms of the chair, splintering some of the material. The man stepped forward and held out Fraser’s sword. Tovie’s gaze fell upon it, and her stomach churned. It was a terrible thing, long and gruesome, and she hated to think of the lives that had been taken by this horrid thing.

“If ye think ye are daeing me some honor by bringing my husband’s sword back tae me, ye are mistaken. I hae no love for the ways of war. Keep the sword as a war prize if ye must. I believe such a thing is common practice among warriors,” Tovie said.

The man’s lips flickered as though she had said something amusing. Color rushed to her cheeks, for she did not appreciate being mocked.

“I didnae bring this back tae ye tae honor yer husband,” the man said in a smooth voice, each word perfectly formed and clear. “I brought this tae show ye proof as I lay my claim tae the clan.”

Tovie stared at him as the words fell from his mouth. The silence was deafening. There was a pounding in her head that started as a faint drumbeat and got louder and louder, gradually becoming a pain behind her eyes. She stared at him, wondering how confidence came so easily to men who killed other men and then decided that this gave them the right to have anything they wanted. This was the first test of her leadership of the clan; she wasn’t about to show anyone that she was a timid and frightened girl. This was the time for her to rise and demand respect from those who saw her as a silly woman whose husband slept in other beds more than he slept in his own.

Tovie rose slowly from the chair. Her height was not impressive, especially compared to this man who was more like a giant. But her force of personality was such that she was able to radiate a certain sense of regality and authority.

“I dinnae know what gives ye the gall tae come in here with my dead husband’s sword and lay yer claim tae this throne, but ye are mistaken. Ye may hae defeated him in battle, but that doesnae give ye a claim tae his clan. I am his wife. Such claims lay with me, and if ye want tae strike me down then ye can try, but who would respect a man that would slay an unarmed woman?” she asked, challenging him. It perhaps wasn’t the smartest choice to make when faced with a man who had already killed someone, but Tovie wasn’t about to back down. She glared at him, hoping that he would see she was more trouble than she was worth. He might well take the sword as ample payment, and he would be smart to do so. He couldn’t have had a good look around the village because it was barely worth taking control of.

Niall smirked. The fact that he was amused by the whole thing only served to infuriate her more. Her face glowered, and she almost wished that she was a man because then she would have had every right to pick up a sword herself and fight him. Although she had always ensured that she was adept in the art of self-defense, she was not so foolish as to take him on in direct combat. She only had her tongue, and the longer he stood there, the more she feared that would not be enough.

“There’s more than yer husband’s death that gives me the right tae this clan. I was here long before ye, lass. I think ye haed better call in the elders and they’ll settle this,” he said.

He set Fraser’s sword on the table and pulled out a chair. Its feet scraped across the stone floor. Tovie frowned, wondering what he meant by his cryptic statement. He placed his boots on the table and leaned back, closing his eyes as though he had no cares in the world. It was clear that he wasn’t going to budge. With his men outside and the clan’s army depleted, she didn’t even have the strength of might to throw him from her presence. It surprised her at just how powerless she truly was, and she quickly realized that she had no choice but to call the elders to her side. She sent Shara scurrying away to send the message, leaving Tovie alone in the chamber with this man.

Tovie seethed. Heat burned under her skin, and she clenched her hands into tight balls, so tight in fact that her nails dug into her palm. She sank back into her throne, although her eyes never left the intruder. He looked so at peace, sitting there with a nonchalant air. Silence reigned, and the tension built between them. She found herself wondering what the duel had been like and how Fraser had acted when he realized that death was upon him. She wasn’t sure if she would have preferred it to be swift or for him to have suffered. Perhaps in his last moments, he had regretted the way he treated her and had wished he had been a better husband. There was no chance for him to make up for his sins, though. Tovie knew well what it was like to fight her battles herself, and she wasn’t about to let herself be defeated by this stranger.

This stranger who still had a familiar air about him. It was so odd. It was as though she knew him without ever having met him before. She hoped that he would leave as quickly as he had arrived, then she could get on with life as she wanted and continue with ruling the clan.

Footsteps clattered outside the chamber as the village elders made their way into the room. They came to the throne, although they stopped short when they saw Niall sitting there. There was an audible gasp, and Tovie knew she was missing something. She wasn’t about to have them look like startled rabbits, though, and demanded their attention.

“Ye are here because I hae a matter tae settle. This man seems tae think he haes some claim tae the clan because he defeated Fraser in battle. I’m Fraser’s widow. His wife. The rule of this clan belongs tae me now. Will ye tell him that he is in the wrong and he should take the sword and move on tae pastures new? We dinnae need the likes of him here,” Tovie said, arching her eyebrows slightly toward Niall, confident that the elders would support her position. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for their verdict.

It did not come instantly, however. Her gaze left him and fell to the group of men who were standing there with shocked looks on their faces. They were almost in a daze at the sight of him, and she wondered who he could have been to have such an effect on them. Was he some kind of ghost from the past that had risen up to now to make her life difficult?

“It’s been a long time. I trust ye remember me,” Niall said, dragging his feet off the table. He moved his body slowly, deliberately, and calmly, as though he wasn’t concerned about anything. He leaned forward and placed his elbow on the table. “I dinnae think I need tae make my claim apparent, but for the sake of her, I suppose I should,” he said, nodding in Tovie’s direction. “As the elder brother of Fraser and the man who slew him, I declare that I am taking my birthright. This clan is mine now. Debate it if ye must, but ye know that I speak the truth,” he said.

The moment Niall revealed that he was Fraser’s brother left Tovie speechless. She was mortified, and so many questions ran through her mind. It made sense now, though, the sense of recognition. She looked at him again and saw the familiar slope of the nose and the framed jaw. There was much of his brother in him, and she chastised herself for not seeing it sooner. But she could not allow herself to fall prey to the shock. There was a fight being waged in this chamber, and she had just suffered a staggering blow. But she was not knocked out yet.

“I dinnae care who ye are or who ye are related tae. Fraser never made mention of a brother, and it’s clear that ye hae nae been around these parts for a long time. Ye cannae simply walk back here and expect tae hae everyone bow down tae ye. When I married Fraser, we shared everything. He’s gone now, but I’m still here. I can lead this clan. He surrendered his birthright when he left,” she said to the elders, pointing at Niall.

“Perhaps ye should put it tae a vote,” Niall said. “That is the tradition around here, at least as far as I remember.”

She scowled at his thinly veiled attempt to show that he had a more intimate knowledge of the clan. The elders muttered amongst themselves, and Tovie was alarmed that they were actually considering it.

“This doesnae need a vote!” she cried. “I am his wife! I am the survivor! This clan is mine!” she screamed, her words coming out as a shriek.

The elders glanced her way, but they did not stop their discussions. They huddled in a circle, turning their backs to Tovie. She strained her ears to listen to their whispers and managed to pick up on a few errant words here and there, but really all she needed to see was the looks on their faces when they turned around again. She knew their decision, and when they began speaking, she was already shaking with rage.

“We understand that ye were Fraser’s wife, but Niall here is the elder brother. His original claim tae the clan is still valid. We cannae dispute that. It’s nae as though ye are with child. We also need tae take intae account the fact that he haes slain Fraser. Without him, the clan is vulnerable. His men can protect us. He is of this land. He is of our blood. He will keep us safe. Without Fraser, others may see us as weak. In our judgment, the clan is rightfully his.”

Every word was a nail hammered into her soul. Tovie narrowed her eyes and shot daggers at them. Her anger was forged into a tight ball that hissed and seethed within her. They barely made an attempt to cloak the truth of their words. It was clear that they only sided with Niall because he was a man. Of course having a woman as the leader of the clan would only be seen as a weakness. Cowards they were, the lot of them. A dark shadow fell across Tovie’s face as she stared at them, amazed at how her life could get any worse even after her husband had died.

She slowly rose from the throne, vacating it for him. She stepped off the dais and glared at the elders, for she would never forgive this betrayal. Then she turned to Niall.

“Ye will never make it in this clan. I dinnae know why ye left before, but ye will rue the day ye ever returned. Ye should hae stayed away,” she spat, and then strode out of the room and returned to her chambers. She needed to think on the matter and figure out what she was going to do next. Her plans had been torn asunder and left in tatters. It remained to be seen what kind of laird Niall was going to be, but she couldn’t imagine him being much better than his brother. He was clearly devoted to war just as Fraser had been, so she assumed that the clan would continue being a warrior’s paradise, and her vision for a better life would never come to pass.

There were many nights when she had laid in bed and rued her decision to fall in love with Fraser. Upon hearing word of his death, she thought those days were beyond her, but those same regrets came back to her with a vengeance. If she had just been a little more cautious with her heart then perhaps she would have been married to a man who respected her, to a man who wasn’t so foolhardy to throw himself into battle at every opportunity. Perhaps she could have been preparing for motherhood rather than staring into the gaping abyss that was her future. As far as she knew, widows were not highly sought after, and she wondered how long it was going to take for her to be married again. For now, she decided she wanted to be alone for the foreseeable future. It was certainly easier to live by herself than to have some stubborn, pigheaded man by her side, making her choices for her. When did men become the ones with all the power anyway? She wondered if the decision would have been different had there been female elders rather than just men.

It didn’t do her much good to wonder now, though. She had lost her husband as well as her position in the clan. In effect, she did not have much left, but at least there wasn’t much else for her to lose. It was a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless.