Page 72 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Rory’s words both intrigued and horrified Niven. He didn’t know what to think. Heart beating quickly, Niven struggled with the reins to his horse. His jumpy stallion, Odin, was having one of his random moments – as ever, at the least appropriate time.

Niven struggled with getting his horse under control as his uncle continued.

“I mean, she’s nae more than a bairn…just way too young for someone like me…” he paused a moment. “We need to talk, Niven, later. About things, about ye, an’ about her… but there’s one thing for sure…”

Niven was so shocked that he almost fell off his horse again.

About ye, an’ about her.

Panic flew through his brain. Did his uncle know? However, before he got a chance to speak, Sachairi appeared – riding up to them on his dappled horse.

Seeing him, Niven buttoned down a sigh. As ever, he had appeared from nowhere and right at the worst moment possible.

Before he could get near enough to eavesdrop, Rory drew closer. Then, he leaned in and said, in a low voice.

“I cannae marry that wee lassie, Niven.”

* * *

* * *

“Sir, the laird of MacLean, requests yer presence,” Sachairi, the blond-haired servant, stood in their path, blocking their way.

Holding back his irritation, Niven gritted his teeth as the dull-witted knave interrupted them once more.

“What?” asked his uncle. In a spin, he turned around to face the lad, his face uncomprehending. “What do ye mean? Where is he?”

“The laird requests your presence at the hunting lodge, sir,” said the lad.

Macaulay’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What?” he said, in surprise. “That’s miles away! He’s due at the castle for dinner, soon!”

Niven shared the laird’s incredulity. “The lodge?” he wondered to himself. “Isnae hardly his to invite us to!”

Now both of them stared at the slight, skinny knave in disbelief. He sweated beneath their gaze, looking flustered.

“Well, I dinnae ken, sir, I’m just giving the message that he sent,” said the poor lad.

Niven relaxed his face. “Och, alright,” he said, with a brief look at the laird. The pair of them shared a glance before his uncle gave a nod.

“Nae fash, lad,” said the laird, his blue eyes pondering. Then he flashed a quick smile at the lad before pulling away. Then, he said, brightly. “Well, if the laird wants to meet at the lodge, then we meet at the lodge…”

He made to turn his horse around, and Niven was just about to follow him when his uncle pulled his arm out. “Nae,” he said, stopping Niven in his tricks. “Nae, ye go on ahead, back to the castle,” said the laird, unexpectedly.

Niven looked confused.

“Ye go, an’ stay wi’ Deva. Get things ready for MacLean an’ the banquet. I’ll ride to the lodge an’ see what it is that’s so important that it can’t be discussed in the castle…”

His uncle sounded intrigued but also more than a bit annoyed at MacLean’s strange request.

“Ah, alright, uncle,” said Niven. His head spinning madly from before. The cannonball that his uncle had unleashed was still reverberating back and forth through him. He hadn’t had time to process it yet. Perhaps the time alone, before the big banquet, would be a good idea after all.

Then, he paused, confused. What if there was to be no banquet at all? Quickly, he flashed a look at his uncle, wondering whether he would even go to the lodge at all.

Then, Rory turned to go.

“Come on, lad, let’s ride to the lodge, an’ see what MacLean wants,” said his uncle, with a smile. Meanwhile, confusion burned in Niven. He wanted to simply yell and ask his uncle what was going on, but of course, with the servants there, he could not.

Bemused, he turned his tail and headed back to the Macaulay keep. With the wind in his face, he rode slowly through the winter’s storms.