Chapter 2

"Nora! Hoo! Will ye hurry up? What is keeping ye? We are expected at the Duncan clan by sundown tomorrow."

Her father"s voice thundered on the wind. Behind him, the horses raced, their hooves drumming across the moorland. It was raining and very muddy.

"Och, I"m trying," gasped Nora, clinging to her horse with numb hands. They had ridden since daybreak, and she was beyond exhausted.

As usual, her father had little patience. Halting his stallion, he hovered in the rain, waiting.

"Well try harder, lassie! Ye"re gonnae have to do better than this come yer wedding night."

He fixed her with such a glare that it blew all through her. Grasping the reins of her horse, Nora exhorted her exhausted mare to move faster. But she would not. Just like her, the dappled gray mare was all out. The poor beast almost flopped to the side as Nora slowed her horse on the moorside.

"I cannae," said Nora miserably. Inside, her heart pounded. The Duncan lands grew nearer, with the castle making a misty shape in the background. It cast a powerful chill over the landscape and over her.

Seeing her father"s scowl, Nora continued. "An" it is too late now to make it there afore nightfall," she said.

"Och!" growled Laird Douglas impatiently. He was battling his beard, which was blowing madly in the oncoming winds. "It may nae have been if we"d been a wee bit faster!"

He looked frustrated but glancing up at the sky, it was clear that she was right. Night was coming, with thick spats of rain being dispatched from the darkening clouds. The winds were getting up. Shivering beneath her heavy plaid, Nora attempted to reason with her father.

"Father, we cannae get there this evening. Instead, we should try an" get some rest."

Her father harrumphed. He was not happy, but it was clear there was nothing more to be done.

"Och, alright," he said in terrible grace. With a massive huff, he patted down his horse and returned to Nora. "It will give us a chance to rehearse what we are going to do."

He stood beside her, his towering six-foot-four frame casting a shadow and more than a little intimidation upon her. All the same, Nora"s heart gave a lively thump.

"Us, Da? Because I thought it was me alone that had to wed an" kill a man," she said with the utmost sincerity. There was a moment as Nora felt her father"s glare. But Nora stood firm, her green eyes blazing fiercely.

Laird Douglas blinked. Perhaps he was blindsided by her question. Either way, he did not give the angry reaction Nora had perhaps been expecting.

"Aye, lass," he said, meeting her firmly with his gaze. ""Tis true, it will be ye who deals the final blow. Ye an" nayone else."

Slowly, Nora nodded. By now, the pair of them had come to a standstill and were standing in the howling landscape. All alone, just them. Nora experienced something she usually did not: kinship. They were together—no advisors, no counselors, no Sorcha in the background.

Just her and her father, alone.

The reasons for this were good. They were the only two people in the plot to bring the Duncans down. Consequently, the rest of the camp was traveling some way behind them, joining them later on.

Feeling her father just inches from her, Nora felt a pang. She wished she had the kind of relationship with her father that other daughters did: warm, ordinary, real. Instead, she was stuck with an angry, demeaning, and sheer hard work of a parent. Laird Douglas was not an easy man to have as a father. His interests were violence and war. They shared little in common, but a hatred of the Duncans was one of them.

Putting his hand shakily on his daughter"s face, Laird Douglas appeared to think.

"Aye," he said, his gaze drifting off. "I ken. It"s tough. Ye"ve got to bed him and then slay him. Nayone else can do it. An" then..."

Nora looked at her father. He did not often attempt to touch her. In fact, he did not often attempt anything much except shouting.

"An" then I race oot o" the castle, screaming murder. Aye, Father. I am nae daft enough to stay to get caught. I shall make sure that it sticks."

The laird smiled at her benevolently. A small bump of joy affected her.

"Good. That"s my wee lassie!" Laird Douglas beamed. "An" do it ye will. Because ye ken how it matters to the clan."

Wind rippled across the darkening landscape. All was silent but threatening rain. For not the first time, Nora shivered.

"Aye," said Nora thoughtfully. "I shall do it because I dinnae ken that there"s anyone who hates the Duncans as much as we both do."

The laird nodded thoughtfully. A strange pride surged in Nora"s heart. The day she had been waiting for so long was near. For five years, she had trained in hunting and killing.

She had even killed a man, finally winning her father"s praise.

"Ye will do it well, Nora, I ken. Ever since ye slit that bawbag"s throat last year…"

He looked at her with pride. A sick dread started in Nora"s heart. Even though he meant that as a compliment, the memory of their ambush was still a little too close for comfort.

It had been years ago, in the no-man"s-land around their clan. Out of nowhere, brigands had appeared, attacking them. Her father killed three single-handedly but struggled with the fourth.

The scene that flashed before her eyes still haunted her.

He had a knife and pulled it in front of their faces. But his eyes were glazed and strange, as if he did not see her. It was likely he did not suspect that she could be a danger, a wee lass like that. His eyes were on her father and the guards behind them. Taking the only chance she would get, Nora grabbed her father"s sgian dubh and sliced the man"s neck…

Nora shook as her father"s voice roused her.

"Nora?" he said, looking at her gravely.

Nora sat up. She had been in a dream, and not a pleasant one. Meekly, she nodded, trying to get her breath back. Her heart always jolted when she saw these scenes. And since that day, it was hard to stop them from forming. The screaming and the blood were all things she wished to forget. But she could not. Worse still, she was being asked to do it again.

Nora tried to beat down the panic in her heart. But it was hard. Swallowing deep, she turned to her father.

"Fear nae, Father. I shall wash clear everything they have done to us an" avenge the death o" poor mother!"

Nora"s voice scaled with emotion, carrying on the wind. Having fully dismounted, her father fetched their things from their bags.

"Aye, lass. I ken ye will, an" ye shall avenge her good. I will watch as ye practice yer stances," he said, indicating Nora to take the sword. Then, as she began to show him her moves, he nodded and said, "Vera good! No man has a chance," he added, before looking at the sky and conceding. "An", aye, perhaps ye are right, an" we should make camp for the night."

Nora smiled, putting down her sword, as her father set about constructing the tent. It took some time. Normally, there would be a servant for that kind of thing, but this time, they were alone. She waited patiently as her father unfurled the stack of posts and material. In fact, she could have assembled it quicker but knew better than to try and correct her father"s handiwork.

When the makeshift tent was finally done, and her father had gotten a small fire burning, she warmed the broth they had brought and looked at him thoughtfully.

"Tell me about that night, Father," she said quietly, as they sat by the fireside.

It was bone-cold outside, and the pair of them were snuggled under a blanket by the fire. Soon, they would be turning in. Normally, her father did not like talking or interruptions when he ate. But this time Nora took a chance.

His eyes glanced up. For a second, she wondered if she had made a mistake. Then he sighed.

"Och, there isnae much to tell," he said morosely. There was silence as he chewed a little thoughtfully. Then he said, "It was the night o" the raid on the Douglas castle."

Nora looked up expectantly. A strange jolt inside reminded her that it still hurt. All this time later, and her mother"s death still affected her. A tear welled up inside.

"Go on," she said, as her father had stopped. Then she grew fearful. What if he was given to one of his volatile changes of emotion?

Catching his eye in the silvery light, Nora saw his sadness. It was not often her father spoke of her mother. Or anything much about those days.

"We were under siege," he said tersely, between lips which barely moved. "An" had been for days. We finally had what, we thought, was a ceasefire. The Duncan soldiers claimed to let us oot. We started sending oot oor women, an" bairns, an" to begin wi", all was well..."

Even in the pale light of the night, his eyes were misted with tears. Nora tensed. She had never seen her father like this. Angry, yes, but never sad.

"Then, wi"out warning, men were everywhere, storming the sides o" the walls, charging in, running wi" horses. There was a right collieshangie." Her father"s voice faded a little as he relived the memory of that terrible day.

Nora could not help coming closer to him. Her heart pounding, she touched his arm. Her father turned to her.

"Ye were naught but a bairn, but ye were sleeping. Still safe back in the castle walls. But yer mother, she was oot, an" before I could find her, was in the thick o" the fray."

His voice filled with emotion, the laird continued in a low, rasping tone.

"I was too late. They found her first, an" slayed her. The beasts!"

A cold ring crushed Nora around the heart. And when she looked, her father was shaking. Perhaps it was the cold, but his eyes were staring and mysterious.

"Father," murmured Nora, a hot tear running down her cheek.

Her father shook his head abruptly, as if pulling himself out of his own reverie.

"Too late," he said, but this time in a more matter-of-fact tone. "An" it is too late to get her back. But one thing it is nae too late for is revenge."

He clutched her, dragging her arm close to him. Nora nodded dutifully. Her head was hot and reeling, and at odds with the cold night air.

"An" more than that, ye will slay him an" be the lady o" the clan an" finally unite oor two lands under the Douglases. Revenge is a dish best served fifteen years cold."

"Aye, Father," she said grimly. "An" dinnae ye fash. I shall deliver it well."

There, in the freezing night skies, her father looked at her coldly.

"I ken ye will, lassie, I ken ye will."

But as Nora snuggled up beneath the tenting, all she could think about was the strange man she was yet to meet. The size of him, his smile, the scent of him when she kissed him.

She would have to kiss him, and that was just the start. Steeling herself in the makeshift bed, Nora sat up, hugging her knees. Glancing over, she saw her father snoring, too much whiskey in his belly.

It was her alone who had to perform this task. No matter what she did, the thoughts would not stop. They would meet, they would marry. She would undress him, slowly running her fingers across his skin… What would that feel like?

And he would lie there, innocent and unsuspecting.

She would caress him, lead him. She would kiss him. His breath would be soft on her neck…

Nora froze. She felt sick, but she could not stop thinking.

What will be the look in his eyes when I kill him?