Page 73 of Steel & Surrender

“Ready yerselves, lads,” Loch Maclean said then. “And … lift!”

All six men taking part tensed their bodies. Jaws locking. Lips compressing. And then, they heaved.

Just as they’d practiced, Greig drove upward through his legs, keeping his back straight.

Slowly, his stone lifted—as did Ian’s beside him.

One of the men cursed then as he dropped his stone and narrowly avoided crushing his own foot. Greig paid the noise no mind though. The veins on his temples stood out as he lifted the heavy stone higher still.

And then, as the crowd whooped, it rose sharply and slammed onto the stone ledge.

A heartbeat before Ian’s did.

The crowd went wild, whooping cutting through the air.

Brìghde couldn’t help it. She was amongst them, jumping and clapping.

He’d done it.

He’d won.

Opposite her, on the other edge of the ring, Loch and Mairi applauded with everyone else, grins splitting their faces.

Ian looked as if he’d just supped on sour milk as he braced his hands on his thighs, struggling to regain his breath. Yet Greig paid him no mind. Chest rising and falling sharply, he placed a hand on the stone and spread his fingers over it.

Almost as if he was making a prayer or giving thanks.

A moment later, his gaze lifted and shifted.

To Brìghde.

And only then did he smile. Not for the crowd, but for her.

21: WHY NOT YE?

“COME ON, DA … let’s get ye home before the real madness begins.”

Brìghde looped her arm through her father’s, guiding him from the crowds.

It was still as busy as ever. The strength contests had ended, but there were still some competitions to complete, including the horse and foot races. Nonetheless, it was growing late in the day. Soon, servants would roll out barrels of ale, mead, and wine from the castle, and the cooks would bring forth the feast they’d spent the last couple of days preparing.

Once the last of the contests ended, revelry would begin—and would go long into the night.

Brìghde wouldn’t attend.

She wouldn’t join the lads and lasses of Duart as they drank, danced, and flirted.

The Forge Maiden didn’t belong in such revelry.

Eòghan didn’t join Brìghde and her parents as they walked back to the village. Instead, he lingered with his friends, who were now downing ales.

However, many of the older folk were also retiring for the day, one or two leaning heavily on sticks. One cut Brìghde a surprised look. “Ye shouldn’t be going home this early, lass,” she called. “Put on a pretty kirtle and join the others.”

Brìghde waved her away, focusing instead on her parents.

“She’s right, ye know,” her father said gruffly. “Ye are only young once.”

Brìghde shrugged. “Aye, but it’s been a long day. I’m tired, and I’m happy to go home.”