The man’s gall surpassed his transgression, for James would never agree to return to his father’s land. Even if his father hadn’t betrayed his clan, James still wouldn’t consider abiding by his request.

“I’ve been expecting this,” Grey said, “My father told me his brother vowed to come for you one day. We foresaw word from him. He awaits outside.”

James smirked, for he never expected it. Aye, he’d read the messages written hastily throughout the years, insisting upon his return to his father’s farmstead. But he never anticipated his father would display such rashness by coming to retrieve him. For many within the Gunn clan hated his father. Joseph risked life and limb in coming to the keep.

“He dares come here after what he did? Laird, I refuse to see him. Send him away.”

“I cannot. If ye do not see him, he shall never leave. Your father is an obstinate man. He’ll damn well camp on my doorstep until we face him. He’s here,” Grey said, and set his hand on his shoulder. “Best ye speak with him now and get the reunion over with. Do you want me to stay?”

He nodded, but wasn’t appeased with the news of his father’s presence. James waited at the end of the table and hastily glanced at his father when he entered the room.

His father walked with unreserved steps toward him as if his welcome would be joyous. It was far from that, and James kept his expression staid.

“Well look at ye, son. Aye, you’ve done a fine job at getting him ready, Laird Gunn. He looks to be strong enough to handle the tasks to farm my land.” His father’s words seemed prideful and yet James didn’t appreciate his boast.

He remained silent. Farming. Hell, not as he lived and breathed. James hadn’t trained for over twenty years at warfare and protection, to tend livestock and fields. He envisioned standing amid a hill full of fat sheep … What a boring, dreadful existence.

James took in the view of his father, a man he hadn’t seen since he was the age of seven. Not once had his father inquired of his health or welfare. His father had given him over to his uncle to train and raise, but alas he’d been given no choice. Their laird at the time, Mikal, Grey’s father, demanded his word that he’d never try to overtake the clan again. And along with his vow, he had to give his son in forfeit for his treachery.

As far as James was concerned, that was the end of his relations with his parents. His father stood tall, just as tall as Laird Mikal had. He bore the same traits, light hair, lanky body-build, and blue eyes—all from their Viking ancestors. He’d aged and it showed in his drawn face and the gray that streaked his hair. James looked nothing akin to his father, with his dark hair and eyes. He stood taller than his father as well, which gave James a wee bit of mettle.

“James is not pleased by your request, Joseph.” Grey motioned for him to be seated, but his father remained standing.

“Are ye not, James? You knew I would come for you, knew your destiny was to take over the farmstead and toil the land. My brother became laird and I became a farmer. So goes the fate of a second son. I bid your return as my first-born son so you may take over. It is our custom.”

The way his father spoke, commanded his acceptance, but James was not in a mood to placate him. First-born son, indeed, James thought. He was his only son, as far as he knew. Mayhap his parent had other children … but he wouldn’t know such as he hadn’t stepped foot on his father’s land in many a year.

“Customs be damned. You gave up your rights as my father the day you left me here. I am a Gunn guardsman and will remain so until the day I die. I took an oath to my laird and I will not break it. Not for you, not for anyone.” James kept his voice insistent so his father would know outright his regard.

“What speak ye? You were brought here to toughen ye up and to make you strong. Ye had no right to take such an oath. The time has long since passed and your return is needed.” His father ran his hands through his thick mane of graying hair. “You will disobey your father?”

“The only persons I need obey are my laird and my king. You speak falsely. Aye, you know why I was sent here, to what purpose you were bid to bring me. I was given as barter to save your arse from the noose.”

His father approached and stood within a foot of him, his face reddened. He wasn’t sure if it was because of embarrassment or ire. James readied for his strike, as angry as Joseph appeared. His father’s nose flared and his eyebrows furrowed. James kept his hands at his side, knowing he would never retaliate should his father attack him.

If there was one thing James held above all else, it was honor. To raise a hand against one’s parent was a grievous sin. Regardless of the man’s actions, he was still his father. No matter how much he wanted to take retribution against his misdeeds, he resisted.

“I am needed more by my laird. Our clan has been called to war by our king, and I will not let my clansmen face the fracas without me. You’ve survived what twenty-some years without me? I will not return to your farmstead.” James turned and was about to dismiss his father, but then Grey cleared his throat, halting him.

“Joseph, give James time to consider this. In time, he may be willing to give it a try. When we return from our mission, he can come for a stay and ye both can see how it goes.” Grey played devil’s advocate, and James raised a brow. For hell would meet heaven before he’d be willing to return to his father’s land and rule.

His father kicked the chair closest to him. “Your father, Grey, my own brother and laird, promised me my son would be returned when I was ready. I’ve long since sent missives directing his return. Now ye say nay?”

“My father never told me he gave permission for James to return home at any time. If you speak the truth—” Grey frowned fiercely when Joseph cut him off.

“I do. Why would I risk my own life if it ‘twas a falsehood? I know all the Gunns hate me. I probably had many an arrow pointed at my back on the way in here. Aye, I’ve accepted that my kin abandoned me. But I will have the return of my son.” Joseph’s voice rose as his fury intensified.

Grey was about to retort when James held up his hand.

“I can speak for myself, Grey,” James said, taking a step toward his father. He stood practically nose to nose with him. “You dare speak of abandonment? You come here after years of negating me, sending me off when I was a lad to people I didn’t know … I did not deem ye cared. And now you demand my return? I’ve made a life here, Joseph, and one that I am pleased with. I will not do as you bid. I’m certain you can find others who would come and work your land.”

“You are a stubborn man, James Gunn, aye and have the obstinate Gunn blood running through ye, as I have. I will give you six months to return. If you don’t by then, you will never step foot on my land. You will forfeit your inheritance, for my lands are vast and my income great. There are others that would happily reap the benefit.”

“That land is cursed with your foul deeds. They are welcome to it. Farewell, Joseph.” James trod out of the hall and went directly to the barracks. He grabbed his bow and decided a work-out would rid him of the hostility of his father’s visit. He’d take to the quintains and use his arrows to calm. Focusing on the target would allow him to put his father’s audacious request from his mind.

He was about to exit the barracks when Grey and Duff entered. His laird blocked the doorway, as well as Duff’s large body. Their scowls lent to their rigid stance. Duff was the most intimidating of Grey’s guardsmen, and one of James’ closest friends since they were lads. Though he respected them both, he wouldn’t have any qualms about taking his fist to them should they intervene in his quest to get to the fields. They gave no account for their demeanor, which bore as hostile as his own.