Page 4 of Kilted Hate

Tomorrow, the woman he had been ordered to marry would arrive. A Sassenach,of all people. He abhorred the idea, of course, but King Edward I had persuaded him with arguments of peace and the fact that marrying an English woman would be the beginnings of them bridging the gap between the borders.

Domhnall had seen enough death, not least of which, his own parents’. An occurrence that taunted him even now. He was tired of war and bloodshed, for the lands of Scotland were soaked in it. If there was a chance for peace, ought he not to grab hold of it with both hands?

That being said, neither was he a fool. He was laird over the clan lands, and thus, extremely protective of his people. He had considered the king’s other motivations, for he was certain he had them. There had been too many losses on either side for him to give up so easily. Domhnall was thus determined to make certain this marriage did not open the door to even more troubles, like the English pushing into Scottish territory.

“Ye’re troubled,” Magnus said.

He always was the more astute of them all, even with his mind-reading abilities. His hair was a shade darker and shorter than his brother’s, falling in loose waves around his face, and as he looked intently at him with his deep blue eyes, something they all had in common, he waited for Domhnall’s reply.

“Aye. I am. Me mind is on other things.”

“The English woman,” Kai said, all mockery now gone from his tone.

“Aye.” Domhnall nodded. “The English woman.”

Kai frowned. “Are ye sure ye’re doing the right thing marrying her?”

“We’ve talked about this ‘afore, Kai. I’m nae going through it all again.”

“All right.” Kai raised his hands in surrender. “I just worry about ye, is all.”

Domhnall smirked. “I think ye have enough on yer plate with all the lasses ye have after ye.”

But Kai didn’t bite. “Stop changing the subject. And ye may be laird, but there’s only a year between each o’ us. I might be the youngest, but I’m nae a fool.”

Domhnall gave him a somber look. “I ken that, braither. And I thank ye fer yer concern. But like I say, we’ve gone over this many times. There’s really naething more tae say.”

“I think we should head back tae the castle,” Magnus suggested. “I dinnae ken about ye two, but I cannae feel me feet any longer, and I’m certain a whisky will warm us all up.”

Nodding, Domhnall said, “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all morning.”

The snow fall beneath their feet was beginning to melt, leaving the ground wet, cold and muddy. No doubt there would be more in the coming months, for the winters on the Isle of Skye were always harsh. The bitter wind carrying the icy winds from the sea from the west didn’t help, and even with all the fires lit, there were parts of the castle that were desperately cold.

As they trudged through the forest and headed toward the main path, Kai said, “And we could all do with a bath. Look at the state o’ us.”

Magnus looked down at himself and chuckled. “Well, at least we didnae wear our best clothes.”

Once on the main track, they found their horses still tied to the trees, where they had left them. The dense forest they had just left ran parallel to the track, almost all the way to the castle.

“What dae ye think she’ll be like, this new wife o’ yers?” Kai said, tying his bag to the saddle.

“Och, nay doubt some quiet meek thing,” Domhnall replied. “Ye ken the Sassenachs. They’re all propriety and manners.”

“She’ll fit right in then,” Magnus quipped.

The three brothers burst into laughter and were about to mount their beasts, when the sound of horses approaching had the three of them spinning around to look behind them.

“Get back intae the trees,” Domhnall demanded.

They ran back the way they had come, and with their swords pulled from their waists, and crouching low, they waited for the horses to arrive.

“Ye think it’s another attack?” Kai hissed.

Domhnall shook his head. “I dinnae ken, but I’m nae taking any chances.”

They didn’t have to wait long, for over the brow of the hill, a group of soldiers emerged.

“It’s the English,” Magnus spat.

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