Chapter Sixteen

Alaric went straight through the hall to the main door, but it opened before he could grab the handle. Uncle Connor nearly knocked him down coming through.

"Good day, Uncle Connor. I was just heading out to the stables to look for Dyna."

"Dyna's busy. I'd like to talk with ye and Jamie first, if ye dinnae mind." Connor was the uncle who most resembled Alaric's grandfather, the renowned Alexander Grant. Tall, broad-shouldered, long dark hair that curled where it hit at his shoulders. He kept his muscles strong by working in the lists at least four times a sennight.

"Fine with me," he said, glancing over at his father to see if he was awake. Jamie waved at them, no doubt alert to all that happened in the hall.

"Connor, come on over," his father called. "No one but Gracie is around, and she just left to tend Els."

His father hadn't moved from the hearth and the stool for his leg. Alaric's grandfather had used that stool himself for many years.

A serving lass stepped out from the kitchen, but Connor waved her away. "Leave us for half the hour, please, Gillis." The lass nodded and returned to the kitchen.

"Ye see yer brother has improved, aye, Alaric?" Uncle Connor asked, taking the seat next to Jamie. Connor and Jamie had been co-lairds of the clan since their eldest brother Jake had passed on.

"Aye. I was pleased to see that sparkle in his eyes again, but he's not doing as well as I'd like. I hoped once he awakened, he'd be the same as he'd been before."

"We all hoped for that," Jamie said. "But think about how long it will take me to heal my leg. He hurt his brain. 'Tis how Gracie explained it to me. His brain swelled and it takes a while to return to the way it was. I hope not the two moons she says it will take my leg to fix, but at least he's awakened and understands us. Joya is happy with that small gift."

"I am too." Alaric leaned forward, settling his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together. If he could do anything to help his brother he would. Anything.

"Alaric," Connor started. "I know ye are going on patrol, but I offer this for yer consideration. I've already spoken with yer parents about this, but 'tis time to consider something."

"All right." Alaric straightened, getting the feeling this would be something important.

"Yer father is frustrated and knows it will take time for him to heal. Aunt Jennie said the break was bad and his leg may not heal straight."

He looked to his father for his reaction. His sire nodded. "I'm no' going to rush myself back onto my feet, no matter how I grumble at Gracie. Much as I'd like to get going, Aunt Jennie made it clear that if I rush it, I could ruin my chances of a sound heal. I dinnae know exactly what it means, but I've seen others who dinnae get expert care after a break, and they end up with a crooked limb and cannae fight or sometimes even walk well. I dinnae want that. Some end up crippled for life."

"Aye, Da, I'm glad to hear ye plan to do what Aunt Jennie tells ye. And Mama. Look how well Ysenda has healed because she did exactly as Aunt Jennie and Aunt Brenna told her."

Jamie snorted. "I'm pleased ye approve, son. Go on, Connor."

Uncle Connor nodded, then took a deep breath. "We think that based on yer sire's and brother's conditions that ye should consider becoming co-laird with me instead of yer sire."

Both men turned their attention to Alaric, who could not have been more surprised. "Me?"

They nodded, giving him the time to think on his uncle's words. For that, he was grateful. He'd never considered this turn of events in his life. He'd known all along, as everyone else in the clan knew, that the lairdship passes on to the eldest child, usually the son, but on occasion a daughter. Kyla and Elizabeth both refused when Jake passed on, so that left it to Els or Alasdair in the future.

Uncle Connor went on. "I still have many years left in me, but when my time to step down comes, I hope Dyna will take my place, but if she refuses, we'll ask Alasdair. So there are other possibilities, but yer father would like ye to step up. 'Tis yer time, Alaric." Uncle Connor got up and made himself a cup of mead.

"But I know naught of being laird. I've never paid much attention to what ye do, Da." Alaric ran his hand through his hair, not sure he liked the way this conversation had turned.

"But I am here to guide ye, as is Connor. The two of us will lead ye, but I dinnae think ye'll need much guidance. After seeing how well ye reacted to the accident on the hill, I'm convinced ye are a natural to lead. Even more so than yer brother, in fact."

"When ye fell? What did I do?" Alaric couldn't be more dumbfounded by that comment.

Uncle Connor clapped Alaric on the shoulder. "By the time I arrived, ye had already taken care of nearly everything. The cart was on its way, ye had taken care of the seed, which will keep yer clanmates from starving this year. Ye were calm and knew exactly how to give directions. Ye handled it perfectly, Alaric. I was quite proud of ye."

His father nodded and said, "As we all were. I was shocked that anyone had the foresight to send the seed on. Ye saved us, Alaric. Ye took care of what I needed by ordering the cart, and ye had yer brother loaded on a horse and back to the keep in no time. Even with all that, ye remembered the seed. Only certain people can stay calm during catastrophes and see what matters most. Ye did. And I believe ye were the only one. By the time I thought of it, most of the seed would have been ruined."

"Nay, Da. If I hadn't made the wrong decision in the first place, ye and Els would both still be hale."

"And the seed would have been soaked through. Ye made the right decision, Alaric." His father turned to Uncle Connor. "I told ye this would shock him. Allow him to think on it."

"Aye," Uncle Connor said, standing up and clasping his shoulder again. "Go on this patrol and give us yer answer when ye return. In the meantime, there are others hoping ye'll train with them in the lists. And at least one person wants to spar with ye. Are ye ready?"

"I'll be glad to spar on the morrow. 'Twas a long day. I'm ready for some sleep." He'd gotten little rest the night before with Eli lying in his arms, but he'd not admit he was exhausted. He still had one more day before he and Dyna would head back. Alaric stood quickly, perhaps too quickly. Nothing sounded better to him than going out of the keep, away from his father, his brother, and all the questions in his mind. But not yet.

He felt best when he sparred, and he needed practice. But it would have to wait another day. As long as it was with anyone other than Alasdair.

"I'll be ready at first light. Are ye going that way?"

"Aye. I'd love to watch ye spar then. They'll wait for ye until the morrow. And I think I know who is first in line."

Alaric held his breath.

"Alasdair cannae wait to spar with ye."

Shite . He was hoping to escape from challenging Alasdair.

"I'll need to warm up with someone else before I face Alasdair. Let him know that, Uncle. I'll be there on the morrow." His cousin was known as being one of the finest swordsmen in the clan. And he could not escape the unspoken tension he felt between himself and Alasdair. But one thing was certain.

He did not wish to spar with Alasdair.