Page 4 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

“Nay, I am saying you should not waste a moment in filling her belly with a bairn.”

Torrance scowled.

Brack raised one hand as if fending off his glare, his other hand still clamped on his tankard. “The servants talk about Lady Esme spending all last night in her bedchamber… alone. They know the importance of an heir to a clan. Do you?”

“Remember your place, Brack,” Torrance warned, glaring at the man who had stood beside him no matter what, and he bore the signs of such loyalty.

Minor scars peppered his face though distracted little from his fair features. A few old scars could also be seen on his thick, muscled arms, but years of training and battle had turned him into an exceptional warrior and scars became a thing of the past.

“Always, my lord,” Brack said, raising his tankard before he took another drink.

“You need a wife, Brack.”

Brack’s head snapped back as if he’d been punched. “I have no want of a nagging wife, and you know it, sir. There are willing women plenty enough to keep me satisfied. But enough about women. There are many matters that need your attention. Clan MacLeish being one of them.”

“Quint, the infamous Monk, is overseeing Clan MacLeish until Ryland, their chieftain, is well enough to resume his command. Once that happens, I will deal with the fate of both Ryland and the clan.”

“You spoke often of wanting to see Ryland dead,” Brack reminded.

“Aye, and that still may be so, but Clan MacLeish, at least at the moment, is not my most pressing problem.” Torrance continued, silencing Brack before he could broach another issue. “My sister Autumn will remain wed to Knox, and he will continue to oversee Clan MacFadin for me.”

“A wise decision,” Brack praised. “Unlike most mercenaries, Knox is a man of his word and can be trusted.”

“And he will be loyal and serve me well when needed since I can take his wife from him at any time and without cause.”

Brack grinned. “A good reason for him to remain loyal.” His grin faded. “What about the Northman, Hakon, the one you promised a wife in return for his allegiance to you?”

“He’s an evil one. See if you can find a woman just as evil,” Torrance ordered. “The other Northern tribes fear him and if I can keep him in my good graces than the other tribes may fall in line as well and I can secure their allegiance.”

“And become more powerful than the king himself.”

“Without it being known or the king will see my empire destroyed before I create it, and rule a good portion of the north,” Torrance cautioned. “Since I have been absent from the clan longer than planned, alert the clan that tomorrow I will hear and settle grievances.”

“There may not be many, if any at all, since they fear to speak their complaints.”

He leaned forward, a glimmer of annoyance in his green eyes. “Are you suggesting I am too hard on those who speak up?”

“As it should be, my lord,” Brack said quickly. “As you often say… both parties have a share in the complaint so both should be punished.”

“Let it be known that there better be a good showing of grievances tomorrow or I will walk through the village myself and find them.”

Brack nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

“Now find my wife and send her to me,” Torrance ordered.

“Aye, my lord,” Brack said once again as he got to his feet.

“Make haste about it,” Torrance snapped.

Brack hurried out of the room, nodding.

Torrance pushed himself away from the table in his solar and stood to walk around the room. He glanced again at the weapons hanging on the walls, some rusted, some barely used, as he walked over to the narrow table braced against a wall. An iron candelabra, its four candles providing good light sat at one end. He studied the crude map drawings, on the reverse side of several pelts. His empire was growing.

A rap at the door had him turning and calling out, “Enter, wife.”

Esme entered the room. She kept her hands linked tightly in front of her to keep them from trembling.

“Sit,” he ordered, his glance directing her to the table in the middle of the room with benches on either side.

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