Chapter Two
The clamor ofbattle disrupted the tranquil Highlands all around McAfee Keep. Stinging smoke and the scent of blood filled the air as she assessed the destruction.
The clash of steel jolted Moira from her paralysis. Her red hair, heavy with sweat, clung to her brow amidst the chaos. Fury brewed within her as she clenched her jaw, each scream tightening her resolve.
“Protect them,” she whispered, her words cutting through the turmoil. This vow ignited an inner fire that mirrored the world around her—fear and doubt ceased to exist as she embraced her Highland warrior heritage.
She hurried downstairs from her bed chamber to check if all the women and children were safe. When she saw the huge crowd of people, she knew that if all hadn’t made it to safety, most had. There was no time to go to every cottage in the village to make certain all women and children were safe.
Her hand wrapped around her sword’s hilt, its familiar weight steadying her thoughts. The love for her kin fortified her determination, transforming it into unbreakable armor. Losing those dear to her was a price too high, regardless of war’s costs.
“Stewart will rue the day he decided to target us with his deceit,” she muttered as she set off to find the men she had chosen to be part of her sneak attack from behind.
Each step solidified Moira’s intent—to stand as her family’s shield and her clan’s spear. The invading Stewarts would face inher the relentless fury of the Highlands—undaunted, untamed, and poised to strike. Why they thought they could control the Highlands, she didn’t know, but she was ready for them. Her people would remain the same and always fight against those who wanted to change them.
She thought back to the evening before, when she’d worked to solidify her plans. Moira had stood in the great hall of McAfee Keep, surrounded by her family and the three McClain brothers: Alisdair, who had married Fiona; Lachlan, who had married Ailis; and Brodie. Alisdair paced before the hearth, and his brothers leaned against the walls, expressions grim.
“Yer plan is madness, Moira!” Alisdair boomed. “Women should nae be fightin’—” He shook his head. “Ye did not ask permission before ye made your own plan.”
“Me father has given his permission. Would ye have me sit as our home burns?” Moira cut in, eyes blazing. “Clyde Stewart will nae stop until all in the Highlands serve him.”
“We cannae underestimate Stewart,” Lachlan said. “But we must act wisely—not just with rage.”
“Rage may be what saves us,” Moira replied. “We’ve fought too hard to cower before such a man.”
Brodie spoke up. “If Moira believes she can fight, then I trust in her blade.” He glanced at the youngest of the three sisters. “I dinnae like the idea of her fighting any more than anyone else does, but I ken she can do it and do it well.”
Alisdair’s fist struck the table. “We protect our own but dinnae throw lives away on pride and folly.”
“This is about survival,” Moira insisted. “Our clan and family—it’s who we are. If I can wield a sword to protect that, then so be it.”
The room fell silent.
“Ye speak of defying norms, lass,” Alisdair said softly. “But are ye prepared for danger?”
“Better to face danger with courage than to live in fear,” Moira declared. “I stand not behind ye but beside ye. We will fight—for the Highlands, for McAfee, for all that we hold dear.” Backing down was not an option they could take. Their way of life depended on it.
The matriarch of the clan, Fiona’s grandmother, stood listening. “May the spirits of our ancestors guide yer blade,” Granny murmured from the shadows.
*
The air feltheavy as Moira entered the ancient armory of McAfee Keep. Her fingers brushed over cold steel, selecting a familiar broadsword. It was one that had been made for her, lighter than a man’s sword, making it easy for her to do damage to the enemy. As she gripped it, her father handed her a round targe shield adorned with their crest.
“Thank ye,” she replied before securing the shield and donning chainmail, leather bracers, and greaves. Her father had required one of his men to make it for her when she’d proven so skillful with her sword. Her sisters didn’t have the same protection she had, but they would not need it. Their skills were with long-distance weapons.
“Ye’ve chosen well,” Granny McAfee said proudly.
Her father nodded toward the gathered clan members. “Choose yer companions.”
Moira selected seasoned warriors known for their tenacity and grit. “Through the secret passage, we strike from the shadows,” she commanded. “The Stewarts think they can crush us, but they don’t know the strength of the McAfees. They don’t know the fury they’ve unleashed.”
The small band followed through a narrow tunnel that led them behind enemy lines.
“We’ll strike from the shadows, catch them unawares. They’ll never see us coming.” She turned, fixing her gaze on the distant keep where Clyde Stewart no doubt watched the chaos he had wrought. The man was a coward, and she couldn’t imagine he would be on the battlefield. “And when we’re through, the Stewarts will learn the true meaning of Highland vengeance.”
With a rallying cry, Moira led her band of warriors into the fray, their footsteps swift and silent as they skirted the edges of the battle. They moved like ghosts through the shadows, the cloak of night aiding their stealthy approach.
As they neared the rear of the Stewart forces, Moira signaled for her fighters to spread out, each taking position to maximize the element of surprise. She crouched behind a gnarled oak, her breath slow and steady as she waited for the perfect moment to strike.
