Bonus Prologue

BONUS PROLOGUE

T wo Years Earlier, Inverness, 1651

"Kaden, Kaden!" the shouts roared up from the castle.

Chuckling under his breath, Kaden leaned over the head of his steed, his dark hair half falling across his eyes, raising his body in the stirrups and urging the horse to gallop hard. It had been months since he had seen Castle Stuart. His travels to Edinburgh and Glasgow, even as far as the English border, had kept him away too long.

Nae fer much longer. I'm home now.

The horse beneath him snorted, as if in agreement with his own thoughts.

Behind him, the guards who always traveled at his side bellowed for him to stay closer, but Kaden ignored them. He didn't need a guard on a path he knew so well. He'd ridden these lanes when he was a boy, snaking out of Inverness town and out to his father's castle on the hills that overlooked the ocean.

"Kaden!" the roar came again from the castle walls.

Aye, that's me sister's voice.

His sisters, Líadan and étaín, were clearly thrilled to see him home again. Kaden laughed once more and raced toward the tall, towering red-brick castle. Today, in the gleaming sunlight, it shone blood red. As if the stones had survived some bloodied battle from years gone by. When he came upon the open gravel drive, he shot past the gates.

Somehow, he was distantly aware that someone was gaining on him, racing to keep up.

"Líadan?" Kaden called back as he pulled the horse to a stop on the driveway. The steed whinnied happily as Kaden jumped down, his clan tartan flung over his shoulder, pinned in place by his clan badge, that he wore every day of his life, vowing never to take it off. He looked at the castle, just as the person chasing behind him also came to a halt.

It was Marcus. The strong and overbearing figure was somewhat curious as he came to a stop and turned his head up toward the towering structure, topped with grey turrets. The red hair and cropped beard bristled in the wind as Marcus said nothing.

"It's quite something, isnae it?" Kaden asked his friend. "Have yer thoughts left this place again?"

He had met Marcus on his travels in Edinburgh, and the two had taken to one another at once. It probably helped that the two had ended up in a pub brawl, not of either of their making, but they had saved each other from what could have been nasty wounds in the process. Marcus was a warrior, through and through, and despite the fact Kaden was confident that Marcus had worked as a mercenary for some time, he was inclined to forgive him for whatever crimes might lay in the past. What mattered now was the future, and Marcus had pledged his life to Kaden's side.

"What?" Marcus said distractedly, turning the horse around so he could face Kaden.

"Ye dae this often," Kaden chuckled. "It's as if yer mind is far away from here."

"I was just thinking, this place… never mind." He stilled as two women appeared at the door.

"Líadan, étaín," Kaden whispered with joy as his sisters appeared in the doorway of the keep. His two sisters, one with rich dark hair, the other with silverish hair which shone in the light of the day, usually so reserved and formal cracked when they saw him. étaín was the first to run forward, flinging her arms around him a warm embrace. Líadan quickly followed.

"Ye have been gone much too long," Líadan said in a rush.

"Ye have. Faither has been asking fer ye every day since ye left," étaín agreed, blinking her dark eyes rather rapidly, clearly trying to halt her happy tears.

"Ah, but ye havenae been asking fer me?" Kaden teased his sister. "Have ye been happy tae see me gone fer so long?"

"Tush." She tapped him around the arm in reprimand, prompting him to laugh.

"How have ye been?" Líadan asked excitedly.

"Have I got some stories fer ye, sisters." He kissed them both on the foreheads. "Where are me faither and stepmaither?" Kaden asked, rounding the horse as he reached for the pack he had tied to the back of the saddle. "Such gifts dae I have for them," he chuckled. "Perfumes fer me stepmaither. Aye, she always liked what scents could be found in Edinburgh, didnae she?"

He pulled out a heavy bottle of perfume and tossed it into the air. Líadan caught it in a kerfuffle, half falling over as she did so.

"Though dinnae uncork it out here," Kaden said, reaching back into the pack with a wink. "If the trader in Edinburgh market is right, a man is said to swoon at the scent." He laughed heartily, barely registering the fact that Marcus, who had now climbed down from his horse, didn't laugh. "Maybe me friend Marcus and I will keel over at the scent." Líadan and étaín laughed. "I brought gifts fer Faither too."

Kaden drew out a long sword. The rapier, rather than being built heavy and broad for battle, was thin and elegant, carved with the most beautiful emblems. Old runes were fashioned down the side of the blade, complimented with images of the moon and sun, morphing into one orb on the gilt handle.

"It is beautiful," Líadan said, tracing the carvings with her long fingers. "Faither will be thrilled with this when he returns."

"Returns?" Kaden repeated, surprised.

"Aye, he and Lilly have gone traveling. They were asked tae attend a wedding. They will return in a few days."

Kaden nodded, a little disappointed to have missed them. As much as he had loved his travels, he had been looking forward to being surrounded by his family again, to feel completely at home with the ones he loved.

"And these are the presents ye bring?" étaín declared in sudden challenge. "Gifts fer our faither and maither, and nae us?" She pretended to pout, though there was a twinkle in her eye.

"As if I could forget ye two," he said, turning back to the horse with a wink. "Last time I came home, ye two drank so much at Yuletide that yer laughter shook the turret roofs. That memory has kept me company these last few months."

"Ye make us sound like cackling witches." Líadan folded her arms, clearly put out by the comparison, though that expression soon softened when Kaden produced his gifts for them.

He passed étaín her gift first. The beautiful pack of cards had been painted by the finest artists in Venice, that pack then traveled all the way to Edinburgh where it found its way into Kaden's hands on a stall in market square. He passed her the gift, watching as her eyes widened. Next, he passed Líadan a book. As beautiful as the cards, with heavy embossed lettering, her eyes twinkled as she took it.

"Ye are always so kind tae us," she whispered.

"Well, I have missed ye both, and yer cackling laughter when ye have shared too much tae drink – ow!" He pretended to be hurt as they both tapped him around the arm in reprimand this time. "Now, I shall tell ye all about me travels later, and I wish tae hear all yer news too, but first, I must feel fresh."

"Then go, go," étaín waved him away. "Ye dae smell like ye have been riding fer days."

"Oi." He was now the one who pretended to be offended.

As he turned to enter the castle, he found Marcus still standing a little distance away. Clearly, he was happy not to be introduced and preferred to keep his distance. He was lost in his own world once again, staring up at the castle. Kaden clapped him on the back and steered him into the castle.

"What is it?" Kaden asked, losing all notes of jest from his tone.

"What?"

"Ye have barely said a word."

"Ye said yerself, that is hardly unusual fer me," Marcus muttered, his eyes drinking in the sights around him.

"Maybe sometimes I am curious about yer thoughts. Ye never give too much away." Kaden smiled at him, and Marcus smiled back.

In truth, Kaden wasn't concerned with pressing Marcus too far for his secrets. He knew Marcus had many, but the effort Marcus had gone to this last year in protecting him, time and time again, told him everything he needed to know about who Marcus was at heart. He had the best of hearts.

"A castle like this… let's just say it isnae something I am used tae," Marcus murmured as Kaden steered him down corridors, past standing armor, put together like statues, and under great displays of swords nailed into the red-stone walls.

"Ye will get used tae it, in time." Kaden clapped him on the back once again.

Before heading to his chamber, Kaden went to his father's study, with Marcus still behind him. Rather than finding the room empty as he expected it to be, he found his father's advisor instead.

Liam, an elderly and withered man, with skin crinkling around his face in multiple great gaping folds, brushed his grey beard absentmindedly until he saw Kaden enter.

"Ah, sir." He struggled to stand, pressing his weight down into a cane at his side.

"Liam. How are ye?" Kaden moved to his side and clasped his hand in greeting, then used it to gently return Liam to his seat.

"These bones grow older and wearier by the day. Look at ye." Liam beamed at him. "Ye have grown stronger in yer time away, and I see ye return with friends as well."

"Aye, let me introduce ye." He steered Marcus forward. "This is Marcus. A finer warrior ye would struggle tae find, much less one with a truer heart."

"Ah, a finer warrior than ye?" Liam said, mischief in those old eyes.

"On his good days," Kaden teased him, prompting even Marcus to laugh. "I hear me faither and stepmaither arenae here?"

"Nay. They have gone to Laird MacNaughton's wedding. They should be back in a couple of days. Ye were specially invited too."

Kaden paused from circling his father's study, turning to face the advisor in curiosity.

"Aye, aye, I ken that look." Liam nodded. "Yer father didnae wish tae bring ye back from yer travels any sooner. He kenned ye were enjoying yerself very much. ‘A young man must have his adventure before he is called tae the responsibilities of being a laird.' Ha, ye dinnae ken how much he has said those words these last couple of weeks."

Kaden shifted uneasily, though he forced himself to smile. The matter of being laird someday was still something that sat uneasily on Kaden's shoulders. He preferred not to think about it, hoping that being a laird would be some distant thing that he wouldn't have to worry about for some time.

"Hey, hey!" a sudden bellow went up from outside. "I need water."

"Get him some water."

"Look at the man. Cannae ye see he's burning up? Someone get him some water?"

"What's going on?" Liam asked, once more struggling to get to his feet with his cane.

Before he could move far though, Kaden and Marcus shot to the window, peering out through the lead-lined glass to the gravel drive far below.

There was a young soldier on a horse. His hair looked singed, his face bright red. Completely exhausted, he could do nothing but fall off the horse when it came to a stop and was barely caught in time by one of Kaden's guards.

"That's Alaisdair," Kaden muttered to Marcus. "He is one of me faither's guards."

They exchanged an uneasy look. As fast as Kaden darted from the room, Marcus was on his tail. Without a word said between them, they sprinted down the corridors of Castle Stuart and out onto the open driveway, just as a bucket of water was thrown over Alaisdair's head. He still reached out another hand toward a man beside him, who promptly pressed a flagon of water into his grasp. Alaisdair must have drained the whole flagon before he dared speak.

"Alaisdair?" Kaden asked, dropping to his knees in front of the soldier. He didn't look around. For a minute, he didn't even think to check if his sisters were nearby, to see if they were witnessing this or if they had gone into the castle. All he was aware of were the soldiers gathering around the guard, trying to cool him down from the clear intense heat he was suffering. "What is it? What has happened?"

"A terrible thing," the soldier murmured weakly, his voice croaking like that of a man three times his age. "I couldnae stop it. I tried. Oh, I tried, Kaden." He reached out a hand toward Kaden, grabbing his arm. Kaden laid his hand upon it, suddenly noticing the blistered skin across his knuckles.

"Ye have been in a fire."

"Aye. Aye, I have." Alaisdair dropped his hand, slumping back into the grasp of the guard behind him who was barely keeping his head off the ground from where he had fallen. "The tavern."

"Tavern? What tavern?" Marcus asked, appearing on the guard's other side, his face serious.

"Laird and Lady Stuart. They were resting fer the night. The tavern at the edge of the clan…" He broke off, wheezing then coughing. When he coughed up into his other hand, something black came out in his palm.

Kaden looked at Marcus, seeing the same concern mirrored in his friend's face.

"I couldnae get them out. I couldnae save them."

Something tightened in Kaden's chest. He felt as if a hand made of steel was gripping his heart.

"Them?" he whispered. "Alaisdair, ye speak of myeparents, aye? Tell me… tell me they arenae dead."

"I wish I could." A great gasping breath escaped Alaisdair, his blue eyes filled with unshed tears. "I tried tae save them, we all did, but we couldnae. They burned tae death, along with everyone else in that tavern. Some dreadful accident, some awful thing, maybe a candle was knocked over and it got out of control, I dinnae ken, but I dae ken this." His blackened hand gripped Kaden again. "They are gone, Kaden, I mean… me laird."

Kaden stumbled back onto his haunches.

He couldn't look at anyone, though he felt every pair of eyes turn toward him.

He wasn't sure what haunted him more as the sensation of that steel hand closing over his heart grew worse. Was it the thought that he was now laird, the thought that he'd never see two people he loved so much again, or the fact that if he had returned earlier, and had gone with his parents to the wedding, he would be dead too?