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“Wait!” shouted someone from behind Alastair. The crowd parted. Fia rode down the drawbridge sitting atop Niven’s horse.
Alastair groaned. “Canna that lad do anythin’ right?” He never should have left Fia in Niven’s care. “Fia, turn around and go home,” Alastair said in a low voice.
“Home?” she asked. Her eyes held deep sadness within them. “I am a Gordon and an alliance of Clan Grant, Alastair. I am home.”
“Fia, nay. Dinna do it,” he begged her.
Fia dismounted and walked over to Hamil. “Laird Grant, do ye remember me? I am Reed’s daughter.”
“Fia?” asked Hamil. “What are ye doin’ here with the bluidy MacPhersons?”
“I was taken as Alastair’s prisoner, and he is usin’ me to trade for his faither.”
“Guid job, Son,” said Duncan. His eyes were half-closed, and he looked tired and broken.
“I admit I kidnapped Fia, but it was only to save my own life,” Alastair explained. “I am sorry, Faither, but I refuse to use her in this manner again. I am no’ tradin’ her for yer release.”
“Then who or what will ye trade?” asked Hamil. “After all, unless ye have somethin’ of value to offer, yer faither is no’ leavin’ here now or ever.”
“I offer myself.” Alastair put his sword back into his scabbard and dismounted. Holding his hands out so they could see he had no hidden weapons, he walked over to join them.
“Son, dinna be a fool!” snapped Duncan, using all his energy to say it. “Use the girl instead.”
“I willna.” He took Fia’s hand in his. “I would die to protect ye, Fia.”
“That can be arranged,” mumbled Hamil. With just a nod, Hamil’s guard drew his sword.
“Put away the sword,” someone shouted as an entourage of men on horseback barreled over the drawbridge and joined them in the courtyard.
“Da?” asked Fia, looking up in wonder. “What are ye doin’ here?”
“Fia.” Reed approached on horseback. “As soon as I got the message from yer cousins that a MacPherson abducted ye, I figured the cur would show up here sooner or later.”
“Nay, Da, Alastair is no’ a cur. He did kidnap me, but didna go through with tradin’ me for the release of his faither.”
Reed got off his horse. His men sat watching, still mounted, hands on the hilts of their swords.
“Really. Then why is he here?” asked Reed, glaring at Alastair. The man was tall and foreboding with a sturdy build and arms as thick as tree trunks. Alastair had never met any of the bastard triplets but could see now how intimidating just one of them was. Reed’s shoulder-length red hair was the same color as Fia’s. Dressed in the Douglas plaid, he stood proudly with his sword in hand. Here was a fierce warrior that would do anything to protect his daughter.
“I am here for the release of my faither,” Alastair explained. “I told Fia to stay back at the keep where she was safe.”
“It’s true,” admitted Fia. “I came here of my own accord. I offered myself as a trade so Alastair’s faither would be released. This feud has to end.”
“I would never harm her,” said Alastair, wanting Reed to know he was no threat to Fia. “I have come to care about yer daughter, and that is why I could not carry out the plan.”
“He offered himself up to replace his faither, and I think we’ll take it.” Hamil shoved Duncan forward. The man stumbled and fell at Alastair’s feet.
“Faither,” said Alastair, helping him to stand, untying his hands as well.
His father looked up with weary eyes. “Kill them, Alastair. Kill every bluidy last one of the Grants for what they’ve done.”
The Grants overheard and suddenly the scraping sound of metal echoed through the courtyard as they drew their swords, preparing for a battle. Alastair noticed Brohain and Rhodric and the rest of his men pulling their weapons as well.
“Nay, put away your weapons,” he called out. “We arena here to fight.”
“Men, collect my new prisoner and bring him to the dungeon, anon,” Hamil commanded.
“Nay!” shouted Fia, hurrying over to Alastair and throwing her arms around him.
