My Highlander Read online

  Swords began to clash and clang, each man holding his own. Padruig fought more like Quinn, their strikes not wild, but measured, each of them determining the other’s strengths. And weaknesses. She was certain Quinn’s ribs weren’t fully healed. His head wound was healing nicely, but he still had a cut across it, and his arm had to be on the mend. Even so, he fought well, thrusting, slashing, advancing. Now he was more like Odran, pounding on Padruig until he knocked his sword from his grasp. Both men heaving to catch their breaths, Quinn quickly had his sword at Padruig’s throat. Padruig’s hands were outstretched in defeat.

  “Do you yield?” Quinn asked Padruig, loudly for all to hear.

  “Aye,” the man said, sounding angry that he couldn’t have bested the stranger.

  “Good fight, mon.” Quinn lowered his sword.

  Padruig went to retrieve his sword, though Hamish picked it up for him and said something to him. Padruig nodded, glanced back at Quinn, then took his sword and sheathed it. Avelina wondered if Hamish had told him to go in peace, and not fight Quinn further or he’d fight him. She hoped so.

  No one advanced on Quinn, and she prayed that was the end of the fighting. Though she was eyeing Braddach because her da said he would fight Quinn next and being a battle-hardened warrior, she was certain her da knew best. Then she saw Braddach unsheathe his sword, proving her da was right. Braddach’s stance low, he advanced on Quinn. She wanted to kill the man herself for fighting Quinn next. Couldn’t they see that he’d already fought two men successfully, even though he was himself injured and had to be worn out? Not only wasn’t it fair, but wouldn’t it make Braddach appear callous? That he couldn’t fight a man who was as fresh as him?

  “The more men Quinn can fight, the better,” her da said.

  “Until the last one cuts him down!” She couldn’t believe how men could go to war and come home ready to fight all over again.

  “Quinn proves how hardy he is with each man he brings down. If he only bested one man, it wouldna be enough. He needs to take down—”

  “A whole army!”

  “Any who wish to challenge him,” her da said.

  “That could mean the whole lot of them.”

  “Aye.” Her da looked over at her. “Remember, if he wishes to fight his brother and take over the rule of his clan, he will have to be prepared to fight any number of men. No’ just his brother, but those who would want to succeed his brother, any one of them wanting to take Cormac’s place, or who are loyal to him and try to protect him.”

  She let out her breath in utter exasperation, but she knew, as much as she hated to admit it, her da was right.

  “The same thing if he takes over our clan, lass.”

  She glanced at her da, but he was watching the fight. Her da was serious!

  Quinn was glad he’d managed to defeat two of the men without causing serious injury to either of them. At least, in Odran’s case, he hoped he had not. But when fighting Odran, he’d had to take drastic measures. The next man wasn’t as wary as Padruig, and he must have thought Quinn wouldn’t have enough stamina to fight a third man who charged in, slashing away at him. The truth was, it was easier for him to fight such a man. With Padruig, Quinn felt he’d been playing a deadly game of chess, winner take all, including the loser’s life.

  The man was quick and determined, and like Padruig, he’d had time to study Quinn’s perceived weaknesses. What he didn’t know was Quinn had been feigning that his left arm had been injured and the man kept trying to strike it. Quinn’s ribs were killing him, and his injured arm was too. With every clash of swords against swords, he felt the pain shoot acutely up his right arm and through his ribs. His head was pounding too.

  But the swimming he’d been doing for all the time he’d been on the island had strengthened his arms and legs, and he felt nimble and quick. More so when he’d fought Odran, he had to admit. The blood coursing through his body was filled with purpose—fight to win, or lose and possibly die. Worse, he would lose Avelina, and that’s who he was truly fighting for. The right to have her. With every fiber of his being, he fought to win, and he would continue to fight if it meant dealing with every one of her clansmen.

  Quinn was careful to not overexert himself, as much as he wanted to end this quickly. Ending the fight too quickly would mean another man would entertain the notion of battling him next. If he drew it out a bit, he had more time to rest. Not much, but some. The other man seemed not to be injured, and he appeared tireless.

  He proved to be an able adversary. If Quinn had to deal with only him, he would have easily taken him down. But the man was cagey, and he kept drawing Quinn forward, striking, and retreating.

  Quinn waited this time, breathing heavily, trying to pace himself, attempting to draw on his inner strength like he always did during a long battle where he didn’t have time to rest before he was fighting another of the enemy. Though in those cases, the men had been fighting, just like him. They were on more equal terms. This man was well-rested, taking his time to try and wear Quinn down. Maybe he hoped to draw Quinn into a confrontation, to make an ill-thought-out move, but Quinn had fought in too many battles, even when his brother sent the enemy to take him down. He wouldn’t let this man best him.

  Quinn set the tip of his sword on the ground as if he needed to rest or he’d fall. Taking the bait, Braddach raced forth to strike him down. Quinn raised his sword so fast, he sliced Braddach’s cheek, the man crying out, and slinging an oath of curses at him before he charged forth, and they clashed. They struck swords and broke away. Before Quinn could prepare for Braddach’s next assault, he slammed his body into Quinn’s.

  Pain shrieked through Quinn’s whole body, and he groaned. Stars sprinkled in front of his eyes before he could clear his head and react. He quickly kicked out his leg and swept it behind Braddach’s legs. He shoved him back at the same time and the man’s legs were swept out from under him. He landed hard on the ground on his back with an oof and an oath.

  Before Braddach could get to his feet, Quinn slammed his boot down on the man’s chest and pointed his sword at his throat. He wasn’t asking this time. He demanded. “Yield!”

  Everyone waited for Braddach to say he would yield, his breathing labored, and he finally gave Quinn a smirk and raised his hand to him. Quinn had to acknowledge that the man was offering his hand in friendship, but he also knew he could be feigning friendship and continue the fight.

  When Quinn offered his hand to him, the man clasped it with a solid grip.

  As much as it hurt, and trying not to groan again, Quinn pulled him to his feet. He felt like he was dying, and it would take him time to heal again. He couldn’t fight his brother until he was in better shape.

  Instead of stepping off to the side, or fighting him further, Braddach stood next to him, his sword in hand, his arms outstretched, and said, “Anyone else?”

  Quinn couldn’t believe it. The man, who was vying to take over the leadership of the clan, was now offering to fight on his behalf?

  Padruig joined them and offered his support as well. Odran couldn’t if he’d wanted to. Not that Quinn thought he would want to after he’d injured him.

  His hand on his sword, Hamish came over to stand with them, observing the rest of the clan. “If no one else wishes to fight, I’d say it was time to celebrate further!”

  “Aye,” a chorus of men and women said, and then everyone hurried back to the keep.

  Padruig slapped Quinn on the shoulder. “Good fight. Honorable. At least when you fought me and Braddach.”

  A couple of men were carrying Odran into the keep. He was swearing at them to take care, that he wasn’t a sack of potatoes, and more.

  “No one could fight fair when it comes to Odran,” Braddach said, assuring Quinn that he had done right by them. “Good fight!” Then he grinned at Quinn. “Ribs a little sore?”

  “God’s wounds,” Quinn said. “How did you know?”

  “Your left hand covered your ribs a couple of times
when you were fighting Padruig and your face expressed your pain.” Then Braddach frowned. “I thought your left arm was injured, but every time anyone struck at it, you didna look as though you were feeling any pain. No’ from that. Your ribs, aye. Mayhap your head.”

  “That’s because I wasna injured there.” Quinn pulled up his right sleeve and showed the gash that was healing.

  Smiling, Padruig and Braddach both shook their heads at him. “You are a good fighter,” Padruig said. “I dinna think you could take Odran down and then best the two of us also. You earned a lot of men’s respect today. But I suspect your success has all to do with winning Avelina’s da over.”

  “Aye,” was all Quinn would say.

  Before they could walk to the keep, he was looking for Avelina and saw her come out of one of the towers leading to the wall walk. She ran straight for him and the other men waited with him.

  “You still canna have her,” Hamish said. “No’ unless you are a chief of a clan or have an army of men to lead.”

  “I would fight in support of Quinn,” Padruig said.

  “As would I,” Braddach said. “And I believe, once Odran has healed, he will feel the same way. He highly respects those who can best him. No’ too many can.”

  Quinn was glad to hear it, though all that he cared about for now was feeling Avelina in his arms, and hoping he didn’t wince or groan when she pressed against his ribs. He didn’t have to worry about it. Once she was in his arms and kissing him, he thought of nothing else.

  Her da was coming and Fenella was at his side. He was looking stern; Fenella was smiling.

  “You are truly undefeatable,” Avelina said against Quinn’s mouth.

  “Only when I think of naught but holding you tight. Will your da agree to our marriage?”

  “We have to see what the elders decide on. Who will lead whom.”

  “And if I can oust my brother and take over my clan from him.”

  “We will go with you and aid you,” Padruig said.

  “Aye,” Braddach said. “Odran also, once he’s able.”

  Her da reached them and he said, “Well done, Quinn. You will sit at the head table with me and my daughter and my niece from now on. You have earned some allies this day.”

  “I have agreed to marry your daughter.”

  “You will have to do more than that to marry her,” her da said.

  “I will do whatever it takes.” Quinn had never thought he’d feel that way about a woman, but he had never known a woman like Avelina before either. He knew he shouldn’t be kissing Avelina in front of her kin or her da before they knew they were married, but he wanted everyone to know she was his, and he would fight every last man for the right to have her for his wife. Thankfully, her da seemed to approve.

  But then her da must have assumed he should set some rules where his daughter was concerned. “You willna be seeing my daughter unless ‘tis in the company of others. Do you understand?”

  “Aye.” Quinn understood, and he would feel the same way if Avelina were his daughter. He would be just as protective of her when it came to a stranger who wished to take her to wife, but had no properties or an army to call his own. Especially when Baudwin had other plans for her, if Quinn couldn’t succeed at removing his brother from power. He was glad some of Baudwin’s men had pledged to aid him. He hadn’t thought that would come about. He thought some might admire him for his fighting ability, as many did. But the men he fought? He’d believed they might resent him for bettering them, especially when he had to fight three of them, when they each had only to fight him.

  He had his arm wrapped around Avelina as they headed into the keep, and she asked him, “How badly are you injured after fighting with the men?”

  Avelina had to know he wouldn’t admit to how much he hurt, not in front of her da or the men he’d fought.

  “I’m fine.”

  She looked up at him with such an incredulous expression, he assumed she knew he was hurting. She shook her head and tsked. “I told my da how honest you were.”

  “Give the mon a break,” her da said, as if Quinn was one of them now. “He canna admit to you or the others here that he is in pain. How would that appear to the rest of us?”

  “Aye, then he can finish rebuilding Judith’s byre and patching up her roof to her croft,” Avelina said, sounding disgruntled.

  The men all looked at Quinn.

  “You survived the shipwreck, knew our kin had killed the other men who had come with you, and that the same fate would await you if you were caught, were suffering from injuries, and yet you were repairing Judith’s byre?” Padruig asked, sounding astonished.

  “She needed the help,” Quinn said, not about to mention he would have done anything for her for offering to harbor him and look after his injuries. Just as he would do anything for Avelina and Fenella.

  “I will assist you,” Braddach said.

  “As will I,” Padruig said. “With three of us working on it, we’ll have it done in no time.”

  “I was going to recommend Quinn rest after all of you ganged up on him, but now I willna. No’ when he is perfectly fine. Dinna let him shirk his responsibility either,” Avelina said, sounding annoyed.

  The men all laughed. Quinn smiled down at his bonny wife. He loved her.

  13

  When they entered the great hall, whiskey was freely flowing. Music was playing, and several men and women were dancing.

  Since her da had declared Avelina would not see Quinn alone, she was making the most of being with him here and now.

  “When do we tell your da we are married?” Quinn asked.

  “After ‘tis decided who will be chief.” Yet she didn’t want to wait to see Quinn alone. She hugged him lightly. “How are your injuries?”

  “They are sore, lass.”

  She smiled up at him and kissed his mouth tenderly. “I knew so. I was so proud of you. Angry with my da for allowing the fight with so many men. Angry with the men for battling with you. Especially Braddach and Padruig for fighting you after you had to deal with Odran. And knowing you were still suffering from your own injuries. Though I understand why my da didna stop it, and why the men did what they did. They were making you one of them.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis a great thing to be welcomed, instead of hunted. I didna think the men who fought me would be willing to protect me. Odran may still be another story. We just need to tell your da about us.”

  “As soon as the council decides on who will lead.”

  “Aye, but it may kill me no’ to be able to be with you this eve.”

  She chuckled, and he kissed her again. “I love you,” she said. “They should decide the leadership soon.”

  Quinn danced with Avelina, intending to stay with her until her da forced them apart. He still limited himself on his drinking. He didn’t want Avelina to think poorly of him should he step on her feet, or say things he didn’t mean under the influence of the whiskey. But everyone kept offering him another tankard in friendship and respect. So he drank as little as possible, sharing in the celebration.

  In the middle of all the revelry when he and Avelina were seated at the high table taking a respite, he hadn’t expected Avelina to whisper to him, “Join me in my chamber, fourth chamber up the stairs on the south tower, my husband.”

  “What of your da, lass?” Quinn could see all the good cheer he had managed to create, turning to animosity in a heartbeat.

  “We are married. I leave it up to you whether you wish to join me or no’.” She kissed him in a way that said she wanted him, now, her tongue caressing his, her hand sweeping over his plaid, and she smiled when she felt him half aroused.

  “Dinna wait too long, or I’m bound to be asleep.” She kissed his mouth, then left the table and found Fenella dancing, took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs to their chambers. Fenella looked back at Quinn, smiled, and the two of the women slipped out of the noisy hall.

  Quinn watched the women go, and Hamish leaned
over to him and said, “You may never have another opportunity, and if she’s willing…” He shrugged. “If it were me, I wouldna be sitting here. You’ve declared you want her for your wife. She’s declared she wants you for her husband. Her da took her mother from a farm and married her. No one would fight you for the right to have her. Not after the way you fought today.”

  Still, Quinn wanted her da’s permission, even if it was after the fact. Baudwin glanced at Quinn, and he raised his tankard to him.

  Quinn raised his in a salute, drank deeply, wiped his mouth, and said to Hamish, “If this gets me killed…I will come back and haunt you. But know this, we are already married.” If Quinn drank anything more, he would forget he had a wife.

  Hamish threw his head back and laughed. Quinn didn’t wait another moment and left the table to find Avelina’s chamber. He thought someone might try to change his mind, but everyone was so busy celebrating, no one bothered. He also hoped that if anyone did try to follow, Hamish would stop him.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Quinn met Fenella, and he was glad he was going to make love to his lovely wife, despite that he still hadn’t gotten approval from Avelina’s da.

  “She is waiting for you in her chamber. Just in case anyone looks for her, and for you, I’ll stand guard and warn you. Be quick. I want to retire to bed after seeing you fight. It wore me out.”

  “Thank you, Fenella.”

  “Thank you for saving my cousin. And she told me you were already married, which is the only reason I agree to being a co-conspirator.”

  He smiled and headed up the stairs. Startling him, Avelina was just around the curve of the wall, looking anxious, but she quickly smiled. Then she led him into a chamber. “Is Fenella downstairs guarding?” she asked, her voice hushed as she closed the door. “Just in case anyone tries to check on me at my chamber?”