Chapter Eight

A lexander prayed they'd find the men, question them, and finally put an end to the senseless attacks on his clan. It was time for peace. For the people to be able to live without fear. Frankly he grew tired of the constant strife that never seemed to end. First the Mackinnons, then the attacks from the MacLeods, followed by the renegade attackers who sought nothing more than discord and fear.

If the attackers had continued in the direction Hendry had seen them going, they went toward an area that wasn't part of Clan Ross lands, which made little sense.

The lands past a narrow river belonged to Clan Grant, an ally of Clan Ross. Alexander would have to pay the laird a visit and find out if that clan had also been victimized, or if they'd been harboring the attackers.

Following Hendry's directions, they soon neared the northwestern shoreline. There was a thick forested area blocking the view. On the lands surrounding the trees, there was nothing in sight. It was possible the attackers had either left or hid.

Silently, Alexander motioned for half of the men to go to his right while he and the others went left. With twenty men, it would be impossible for a group of five to avoid being caught if they remained in the area.

Riding into the trees, they moved without speaking, everyone listening for any suspicious noises. Knox was on foot, pulling his horse behind as he tracked for any signs of others going before them.

Another tracker had gone with the other group to do the same.

His body was on full alert, every muscle tensed and ready for a fight. Alexander sensed they were close and would soon find the attackers. The question was, how should it be handled?

The council had suggested the men be apprehended and brought before the people to be punished. It would not only be a warning to any others who rode with them, but also give the clan reassurance that Alexander had indeed fought for their safety.

They'd almost surrounded the wooded area when the screams tore through the trees from the direction of the other group. His group remained in their section continuing forward effectively blocking the way toward Mackinnon lands. If any of the five tried to escape they would be caught.

Alexander held up a hand. "Hold steady and wait."

Moments later two horsemen appeared. By the time they noticed Alexander and his men, it was too late to retreat.

Instead of surrendering, the idiots charged forward swinging their swords.

"Aim to injure, not kill," Alexander instructed as one of the men closed in. He deflected each strike of the man's sword.

"Give yerself up," he yelled.

The man acted as if deranged, yelling whilst continuing to attack. "Ye deserve death," he yelled. "Ye and yers killed my brother and father."

"In battle," Alexander replied once again blocking the man's downward momentum. "Ye and yers are attacking innocents."

When the man thrust his sword forward in an attempt to stab Alexander, he evaded the strike and swung his weapon sideways. It sliced into the man's arm, cutting through flesh and muscle.

The man whirled his horse around only to see that he was surrounded by warriors.

Alexander motioned for his men to remain in place.

Just then the other man slumped down atop his horse, either gravely injured or dead.

At noticing, Alexander's opponent let out an angry growl and with his sword lifted he charged in Alex's direction. "I may die, but there are others who will continue to avenge—" He stopped speaking when an arrow sunk into his sword arm.

The man yelped in pain as his sword dropped to the ground.

Alexander lifted his sword and pressed it to the man's throat. "Ye are my prisoner now."

Glancing over at the one slumped over his horse, he asked. "Is that one dead?"

One of the guards held a hand over a cut on his side. "He would nae stop." The warrior frowned. "Apologies, Laird."

There was nothing that could be done about it, so Alexander shrugged.

"Tie him up," Alexander ordered motioning to the man he held at bay.

When the man tried to reach for something, probably a dirk in his boot, his left arm flopped uselessly at his side. It was then he seemed to notice the deep cut for the first time. Blood dripped down his arm and onto the ground. There was little he could do to staunch the flow, as the other arm had an arrow through it.

He glared at Alexander. "I wish ye were dead."

Alexander met his gaze. "And yet I am nae. Ye will die and yer death will serve as a warning to others."

Something akin to fear flashed in the man's eyes before he was led away.

They emerged from the woods with their prisoner and moments later the other party emerged with two others.

Alexander weighed the options regarding what was best to do with their prisoners. Finally, he decided they would be taken to the Clan's people.

"Take them to Tokavaig, to the village square. They will be executed in the morn." He motioned to Hendry. "Go with ten men."

After instructing a group of guards to return to the woods and bury the dead man, he and Knox rode back to the keep with the last of the contingency.

"I believe that was the last of them," Alexander said to his cousin. "It has to be."

"Aye, I agree," Knox replied. "It makes sense. From what we've seen and heard, there were never more than four or five attackers at once. One was killed. I believe these men were the last of them."

They rode for a while longer, Alexander noticing a gash on his left forearm. At his notice the injury began to throb. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. Hopefully it would be the last of his battle wounds for a long time.

"Once this is dealt with, I plan to visit the Grant," Alexander said to Knox. "There had to be a reason why they were headed there."

Knox nodded. "I wondered the same thing. Unless they planned to attack a different clan. But it makes little sense."

"Clan Grant battled with the late Mackinnon, but that was a long time ago," Alexander commented. "It makes little sense that they would attack Clan Grant, but then again, they are all mad."

Knox let out a snort and shook his head. "A small group of renegades against two lairds. They must have a death wish."

"Then it is about to come true," Alexander said. His people would be satisfied. Even though it was never a good day when a life was taken, at the same time, it was the only way to ensure not only peace for his clan but give his people the reassurance they needed.

They were met with cheers upon arriving back at the keep. Alexander gave his cousin a droll look. "We fought against men, who were nae well trained. I would nae call it a huge victory."

"A win is a win," Knox replied holding his arms up and joining in the celebration by letting out a battle cry.

One thing about Knox. There was little that dampened the man's spirit. Alexander grinned when Knox made his horse turn in circles, the whole time singing a victory song.

Those inside the house came out at the commotion and joined in the celebration. It was a good day for Clan Ross, and he was glad to see the expressions of happiness on his people's faces.

His mother appeared in the doorway and looked to him. With a proud expression, she met his gaze and crossed both hands over her chest. It was something she'd done ever since he could remember. Upon his father's return from battle and now when he and his brothers returned victorious their mother would greet them with a proud stance, hands over her chest.

Alexander's heart swelled with pride.

Ainslie rushed out tugging Nala behind. They were joined by several maids, and they all clasped hands and danced in a circle. It was a beautiful sight seeing Nala so carefree, a bright smile on her face as she skipped in time with the others.

He climbed the steps to the front entrance. His mother cupped his face and kissed his cheeks. "Today ye make our clan proud. Ye are a leader of great worth my son."

Tears sprung to his eyes, and he had to blink them back. When he tried to speak, words would not come.

His mother smiled up at him seeming to understand. "I will have a feast prepared and this day we shall celebrate."

Last meal was indeed a celebration. A huge bonfire blazed, lighting up the night. Musicians played lively tunes and people, their spirits lifted by the many pitchers of ale and mead, danced gaily.

On long tables, others partook of the offerings. Platters were heaped with roasted pig, hens, breads, and cheeses.

Alexander did his best not to imbibe too much, but after being pulled into a dance several times, he required a cool ale.

"Dance with Nala," Ainslie said pulling at his tartan sleeve. "Ye have danced with every lass but her."

He drank deeply from the tankard. "I am nae sure I'm able to dance. I have had too much ale."

"Nonsense," Ainslie insisted. "Go now. I told her ye would dance with her."

He frowned at his brother's wife. "What are ye up to?"

"Nothing at all. Making sure ye dinnae slight our guest." Ainslie took his tankard. "Go."

He'd hoped to sneak off to bed as it would be very early the next morning that they were all to leave for Tokavaig.

Walking across the space between him and Ainslie, someone pulled at his arm. It was a lass he'd already danced with. "Dance with me, Laird," she said, her eyes met his and moved to his mouth. "I will repay ye fully."

The proposition was obvious and yet, it didn't interest him as it would have in the past. "I must dance with my guest." He disengaged from the woman and continued to where Nala was.

From Alexander's right Hendry appeared. He headed toward Nala. What was he doing there? He'd sent him off to the village.

Alexander walked fast, reaching Nala a few steps ahead of Hendry. The warrior continued past, not seeming to notice. Perhaps he'd not been going toward Nala.

"A dance?" he said holding his hand out.

"Aye, of course."

Holding Nala by the hand, they joined a lively dance, which admittedly, he wasn't the best at. The inability to keep up and potentially looking clumsy was worth it because of the joyful expression on Nala's face. Lips curved and sparkly eyes, she beamed happily as she circled around him. There was a playful, flirty expression when she looked up at him that made something flutter in his gut.

Alexander couldn't tear his eyes from her as they made their way toward the center, when it was their turn to be circled. They held hands and spun as the other dancers began to whirl around them, surrounding them with a ring of laughter and music.

If it were possible to remain in that moment longer, Alexander would have thanked God. For the first time since he could remember, everything outside the circle of dancers, all the problems, situations, and responsibilities seemed to be swept away. There was only him and the beautiful woman who looked up at him with what he could only call coyness.

He met her gaze wishing that they were alone so that he could take her into his arms and kiss her once again. Nala's lips curved almost as if she read his mind. When her gaze drifted down to his mouth, it was obvious she too was recalling their moment at the seashore.

When laughter erupted nearby, he realized the music had stopped. Nala blinked. "Oh. I supposed the song has ended."

"Aye, it has." Alexander took her hand and led her toward where she'd been standing. "Ye look beautiful tonight, Nala."

For a moment, he thought she'd not heard him, but then she glanced up at him. "It could be the ale speaking."

"Walk with me." He guided her away from the others, so they could look out to the sea.

When she shivered, he placed an arm around her shoulders. "Are ye cold?"

Nala shook her head. "The breeze feels wonderful on my overheated face." Facing the sky, she closed her eyes and let out a long breath. "It is wonderful that peace has finally come to the isle."

"Aye, it is." He couldn't look away. Nala was like a magical creature who enraptured him. It wasn't often that he'd felt helpless when near a woman. If ever there was a time that he was so drawn to another, he couldn't remember.

"Nala," he said about to propose they walk back to the festivities. It was late and he planned to retire.

"Mmm?" she murmured.

"It is late."

When she looked at him, the corners of her mouth lifted just enough. She looked like a satisfied kitten. "I agree. I will remain here just a bit longer, then I will seek my bed."

Alexander lingered, feeling like a lad of ten and five, attempting to find a way to ask for a kiss. He was laird of the clan and here he stood like a tongue-tied idiot.

"Sleep well," he finally managed.

The softness of her hand in his sent a shiver of awareness up his arm. Nala held it for a moment. "Thank ye for dancing with me. I enjoyed it."

If he didn't kiss her now, he would regret it. Alexander bent until their faces were a hair's breadth apart. "The pleasure was all mine." Then he kissed her. Not an all-consuming kiss, as they were not far from the celebration, and it was possible they'd be seen. Instead, he kept himself from touching her, allowing his lips to linger over hers for a bit longer than he should have. Then he straightened.

"Sleep well, Laird," Nala said turning to once again look out to the sea with a soft expression.

He almost asked if the kiss was not to her liking but decided that it was. Or was it?

Annoyed at himself for even questioning his kissing skills, Alexander stalked away.

"Ye kissed her," Ainslie said by way of greeting as he entered the house. She clapped her hands and gave a delighted squeal. "Good on ye."

"What are ye going on about?" Cynden came to stand next to his wife, his hazel gaze moving from her to Alexander.

Before Alexander could say anything Ainslie spoke. "Alexander danced with and then kissed the beautiful Nala." Ainslie grinned widely. "It could be the both of them finally accept they are smitten with each other."

Cynden's eyebrows lifted higher than Alexander thought possible. "Is that true Alex?"

"I am going to seek my bed. We leave at daylight." He walked to the stairwell. "Ensure the guardsmen are ready."

"Ye can wait until after first meal." His mother walked in from outside, her face flushed as if she'd just walked straight inside after dancing. She fanned her face with both hands. "What a delightful day."

"There is much to do tomorrow," Alexander insisted.

His mother gave him a pointed look. "'Tis better to allow the men to sleep a bit. Yerself as well. Riding out with heavy heads and slack gut will nae do anyone a bit of good."

She breezed up the stairs past him. "I will see ye at first meal, son."

The attackers captured had been hanged by the neck until dead. Two of the men had accepted their fates with defiance, screaming obscenities at the guards and promising that their deaths would be avenged. One man was not as willing to face death. He'd pleaded and begged that his life be spared, calling out that he was the only provider for his wife and bairns. The man had wailed up until the rope had been placed over his head. Then he'd fainted. It had been a reprieve, Alexander considered.

As heartbreaking as it was to take a man's life who had a wife and children, he had to consider that the man had been part of a group who had killed Edgar, a man who also had a wife and bairns.

Said woman was present. Surrounded by her parents and her children, she'd yelled out her husband's name, repeating over and over that they'd killed her husband and father of her bairns.

Alexander, his mother, and his brothers, Cynden and Munro, stood out on the tavern's second-story balcony that overlooked the village square. From there he kept watch over the proceedings.

His mother had hidden her face only once. During the first hanging. After that she'd remained strong, her gaze ahead. Whether she watched or not, he wasn't sure, but she understood how important her presence was for the people.

As the laden wagon rolled away, people threw rocks at the bodies until they were out of reach. After the crowd dissipated, everyone returned to their homes or to work. Life would continue for the clan's people, but at least now they felt safe from the random attacks.

The bodies of the dead men were placed onto the back of a wagon. Escorted by a contingency of warriors, they would be delivered to Armandale and left at the village square there. Alexander hoped it would send a message that anyone who came against Clan Ross and attacked his clan's people would meet the same fate.

"Where is Ainslie?" Munro asked Cynden.

Cynden shook his head. "Neither she nor Nala wished to come. Ainslie is sensitive and I understand, and Nala wished to keep her company."

"Aye, Lila would nae come either," Munro said, referring to his wife. "Nala?" he asked, a smile curving his lips. "The wee Nala has come back."

"Aye, and she is nae wee. But a beauty now," Cynden replied. Looking to Alexander, he added. "Do ye nae think so Alex?"

His brothers and mother looked to him, and Alex shrugged as if it was nothing of importance. "Aye, the lass is bonny."

"A lovely creature she is," his mother added. "Ye and Lila should come visit soon. Nala is staying with us as our guest."

"Alex is to find her a husband," Cynden, ever helpful, added.

"What about Knox?" Munro asked.

Why was Knox the first one everyone seemed to think was the best option for Nala? Not that he wished to marry, and yet for whatever reason Alexander found it off-putting.

Cynden leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. "It could be the lass has gotten the attention of someone else."

"Who?" Alexander asked, then caught himself. "I mean, it could be this man is nae a suitable match for the lass."

His mother nodded. "I think he is. A perfect match if ye were to ask me."

Munro nodded knowingly. "I am inclined to agree."

Alexander's stomach plummeted and he inhaled to keep from flinching. Why did the idea of the lass marrying a suitable man affect him so? Aye, he was man enough to admit he found her appealing. But it was a passing fancy. Surely, it was nothing more.

"Let us go," Cynden said. "They bring the coach and our horses."

As they walked down the stairwell in the tavern, Alexander tapped Cynden's shoulder. His brother could barely turn in the narrow passage. Both of their shoulders were almost as wide. Munro had to turn a bit sideways to fit through.

"Who is it?"

Cynden gave him a droll look. "Do ye really have to ask? Ye are daft."

"Ye are the daft one," Alexander retorted, then realized they'd returned to their youth. "The only reason I ask is because I was charged by her father to find a proper husband. Not some fool who can only offer that he is besotted with her."

At Cynden's chuckling, he fought the urge to kick his brother. "They are talking about ye, ye daft idiot."

Alexander frowned. "Me?" He fought the urge to smile. "Ye are the idiot. It is nae me they speak of."

They made their way to the main room of the tavern and the owner approached. "Thank ye, Laird. For everything. We are ever thankful for the ability to travel freely on our home isle."

More people approached as they made their way through, calling out their appreciation, declaring they'd never lost faith in him.

Munro gave him a knowing look. Both were lairds and knew that the very same people would be defiant and declare them unsuitable at the first sign of trouble.

His mother slipped her arm through his. "Let us return home. There is much to do."