“There’s nothing to discuss,” he said, hoping they’d move aside. But neither did so.

“Aye, there is. I understand you don’t wish to be a farmer, James, but you should at least go and see your father, on his own land. Allow him to make reparations.”

“I disagree,” Duff said. “He left James to his own, and committed a heinous act against his clan. Why should James allow him to make amends and aid him now? After all these years.”

James nodded at Duff. “That is exactly my thought, Duff. And can you honestly see me as a farmer? I wouldn’t last a day.”

Grey and Duff chuckled at his jest.

“Don’t let your duty to me ruin this opportunity, James. I vow you are the most devoted of all my guardsmen, but I wouldn’t want that to stop you from going after your own pursuits.”

“My pursuits have nothing to do with this, Laird. I cannot forgive my father for what he did. There is no honor in him.” James leaned against the wall, hoping this conversation would end. His hand tightened on his sword, knowing hacking at a few opponents would relieve him of his aggression.

His laird grew solemn then. “James, what your father did … My father and I spoke at great length about it. They were both angry and encouraged by their own father to best each other. Neither were at fault for what happened. My grandfather was a harsh man and pitted them against each other. He did it on purpose. Those were troubling times. My father died before he could remedy the row with his brother.”

Duff folded his arms over his chest. “Every man has a say in his own actions, Laird. Your father was more than generous by gifting him those lands, lands the Gunns never reaped the benefit of. Joseph chose his path. Why should James be punished for it?”

James took a deep breath, for bringing up the past greatly affected him. “Your father, Grey, spoke of it with me before he passed, too. I know what happened. Laird Mikal saved me from the stigma of being born from a traitor, and I am grateful. It doesn’t matter now. My father did what he did, and my involvement ended with him the day he dropped me off on your father’s doorstep. Now let us forget this nonsense. It bothers me not.”

“Nay? Seems to me it does bother you. Och if you wish, I won’t bring it up again.”

“We’ve a war to ready for. How long before we leave?” James wasn’t thrilled by the news they’d received from their king, directing them to aid the Iorwerth clan. He didn’t trust the Welshmen, for they were just as passionate about battle as the Scots. They were just as battle weary as well.

Warring with the English was a beguiling task, for they were often wily in their war practices, and the Scots liked nothing better than going against their enemy. That was at least something they had in common with Wales.

“We’ll leave in a few days for Sean’s land. I’ll meet with the king and find out exactly what his message entails.” Grey moved aside, and Duff led the way out of the barracks.

James had recently returned from his comrade’s keep near the border of England and Scotland. He’d gone with Sean to the Hume clan, where they were both astounded by the inheritance of lairdship given to his friend by Lord Hume, Sean’s uncle. James stayed on after troubles arose and Sean needed his protection of his family.

Now that all had been settled, he returned to his normal life. Only that normalcy was intruded upon by his father’s visit. Family matters were inconsequential to what they were about to face. James wanted to put it as far out of his mind as he could.

If only that was possible.

Chapter Two

Garth Celyn, the royal House of Gwynedd

North Wales

With all the force she mustered, Emlyn hacked and advanced on her adversary. He was the best of all her father’s soldiers, and he’d boasted he wouldn’t hold back during their fray. Though they were only testing their skills, they both gave it their all effort, and appeared to want to kill each other. Emlyn would not be defeated.

Rhun advanced and caused her to take a step back. Cheers arose around her when she deflected his strikes and advanced upon him in return. Her breath rasped and her arm waned a bit from the force of his sword, but she wouldn’t concede to the tall, angry soldier. Her eyes took in the form of her father watching the fight nearby. Emlyn had something to prove and she wouldn’t give up until she accomplished her goal. This day was long in coming and she wouldn’t disappoint her father.

She tired and needed to put an end to this round. It had gone on long enough for they’d been at it for nearly a half an hour. He continued to strike her sword with his, lending to her exertion and exhaustion for he was much stronger than she. But Emlyn was quicker on her feet. She pulled a mace from her belt and threw it at Rhun’s feet, causing him to sidestep and become unbalanced. Then she ran at him, forcing him backward with the heels of her hands until he fell. The point of her sword pricked his neck.

“Do you give?”

“Aye,” he mumbled. “Aye.”

With his acceptance of defeat, she removed her sword and turned to face her father. The crowd cheered and then quieted when he stepped forward.

Her father, the mighty chieftain of their land, stood taller than any around them. He wore a simple bronzed crown on his head, which made him appear regal even though it wasn’t ornate. Emlyn was pleased with the look of pride in his eyes. She was wont to have his approval, and unfortunately for her, she’d been born female.

That was the only reason she’d taken to arms at such an early age. Her father’s prideful words were oft given to her brothers for their ability with the sword and bows, but he’d had no such words for her. Why would a great warrior chieftain such as he be proud of a lass’ ability to sew a tunic?

“Do not berate yourself, Rhun, for the lass has been under my guidance since she could walk. You’ve been beaten by my heart, and aye, should be as proud of her as I. All of you shall be proud of the lass’ accomplishment this day.” Her father set a hand down to help Rhun from the ground.

Rhun glared at her and then grinned. “How can I be angry by being beaten by such a lovely opponent? Next time, be sure to tie up that red fire, lass, for I could’ve easily gripped your hair and had you succumb.”

Emlyn chortled, for he was a bear of a man, and almost as hairy. She scrunched her blue eyes at him and twitched her nose as she was wont when she teased. “You would have paid dearly if ye tried to grip my hair. But well done, Rhun, for you’ve given me quite a challenge this day. Shall we meet again on the morrow? Say around noon?”

Those around them laughed and Rhun sheathed his sword. “If that is your wish, fair Emlyn, I shall concede to it.”

She was ready to call her training day an end and had worked up an appetite. Hopefully the kitchens still served supper for she’d missed the bell. As she began to walk away, her father called to her.

“Emlyn, come, for I must speak with ye, lass. Walk with me.”

She found it peculiar that her father wanted to talk to her. He was usually too busy to spend time with her these days. War with the English had him tending to maps and strategizing against his latest enemy, William Marshall.

She walked beside him until they reached the wall. He continued to lead her along, and she tucked her sword away while waiting for him to speak.

“I received word that Bevan has died. I’m sorry, lass, for your betrothed is dead.”

Emlyn’s heart tensed and she looked into her father’s eyes. “I am … sorry to hear that. I assume he died at the battle?”

“Aye, my soldiers were tricked and led into the fray unarmed. Only a few men returned with the news. The rest perished. I must go, lass, and prepare for we must be ready to face Marshall’s army if he comes. You understand?”