Page 16 of My Notorious Highlander

They all nodded and cast wide-eyed looks at each other and the men bleeding to death on the ground.

"Go see about hiring a bìrlinn," Haldane said to McMurdo. "And I'll search for more men to recruit to replace these two bastards. We'll likely need several more to defeat the MacKays."

McMurdo nodded and strode off to do his bidding. Haldane liked that the old man rarely questioned anything he told him. And that he was a ruthless killer. Haldane had learned much from him over the past several months.

Now, he was so close to getting everything he wanted he could hardly stand it. All he had to do was kill his brother, his cousin, and maybe his sister, if she tried to stop him from taking Dunnakeil.

Chapter Four

Looking out an open upstairs window, Jessie couldn't help but glare at the spectacle below her in the bailey—grown men acting like stags during the autumn rut. Instead of locking antlers, Torrin and MacBain charged each other with dull swords. At least the weapons were said to be dull, so the men wouldn't kill each other accidentally. Although she had authorized this training session, she was starting to regret it, because at times it looked far too real.

With a fearsome grimace and a loud growl, MacBain rushed Torrin, who easily evaded his blade.

"What's going on here?" a deep voice yelled through the portcullis.

Who was that? At first she thought it might be some of the MacKays returning from their long journey. But, nay, she didn't recognize the dark-haired man revealed by the late afternoon sunshine.

Everyone stopped and stared. Torrin stepped back several paces but kept MacBain within his sights.

"Iain Stewart, is that you?" Torrin called.

"Of course." The man drew close to the iron bars, his smile evident.

"What the devil are you doing here?"

"Ran off and left me while I was passed out, aye? Some friend you are. I couldn't resist hunting you down and watching you make a damned fool of yourself." He chuckled.

Torrin glanced around, looking a bit chagrinned, his eyes meeting Jessie's for a couple of moments, then he headed for the portcullis. Until he'd glanced up at her, she hadn't realized he knew she was watching.

Who was Iain Stewart, and what had he meant about Torrin making a damned fool of himself? Courting her?

"I hope this skirmish here isn't serious, but if 'tis, I've arrived just in time," Iain said.

"'Tis called practice," Torrin said, then turned to face her again. "Will you allow this knave entrance, m'lady? Although he is a scoundrel of the worst order, I claim him as a foster brother and a friend… sometimes."

"Who is he?"

"Iain Stewart, heir to the chiefdom of Stewart and Barony of Appin."

"Aye, if he allows Erskine to disarm him," she said. He didn't seem like the type who would cause trouble, but she could take no chances with so many different clans visiting, and MacBain being contrary.

Torrin gave a courtly bow, then faced his friend again. "You heard the lady. Give up your weapons."

"Gladly. But I want in on this practice session. Looked like you were losing. And by the way, I have four men with me." He motioned them forward.

"They must all disarm themselves," Torrin said.

More men? 'Twas a good thing their storeroom shelves had been stocked full not long ago.

While the newcomers were removing their weapons, Jessie noticed MacBain whispering to a couple of his men. What was he cooking up? His dark, malicious expression changed to a forced friendly one when Torrin introduced Iain Stewart to him.

"Been at this for days, have you?" Iain asked, eying MacBain with his swollen nose and black and blue eyes.

MacBain clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, but made no comment.

"Don't tell me you two are vying for the same lady's hand." Iain grinned, turning to Torrin.

"Not exactly."