The leather of his saddle creaked and his chain mail swayed as he swung a leg over.
He dismounted and landed on the gravelly inner yard with a crunch, his feet once again upon his own treasured soil. Being home again soothed his very heart and soul, as it hadn’t been soothed in so incredibly long. Sixteen months long. Not that he’d been away from Carron for all that time, but for some reason his return this night seemed all the more peaceful. Strange. That emotion only ever assailed him when Fiona was near, that and dire need as well.
“’Tis about time you returned home.” Duncan marched down the barbican’s stone stairs, the hilt of his sword strapped to his back gleaming in the golden glow of the moon, his black hair shining a midnight blue on the ends and a recent gash slashing his muscled forearm where his shirtsleeves had been rolled to his elbow. This was his brother, his twin, the one man who’d always understood him as no one else ever could.
“Beyond time, and it appears you’ve been in the wars.” Still grinning, he tossed the reins of his horse to a stable lad who dashed forward to take them and clasped his brother’s forearms in a firm warrior’s hold. “I’ve missed you, brother.” Searching Duncan’s intense gaze, he sought the knowledge he needed, an unspoken sense of knowing which had always existed between them. The responding twinkle in his twin’s eyes exhilarated him. “You love her?”
“She’s a fae compeller from the Matheson village, a woman who’s not only my mate, but also holds the heart of a warrior. I honestly didnae expect to find her as I did, and Ella certainly led me on a merry chase across the Western Isles in pursuit of her, but now I’ve captured her and made her mine.”
“When shall I meet her?” He’d received his brother’s missive about the news that he’d wed while visiting one of their allied clans, that of the MacRaes.
“She’s at Ardan House and expecting me to return on the morrow. Come with me when I leave in the morn. We’ll ride together.”
“I wouldnae miss the chance of meeting Ella Matheson.”
“MacKenzie now. She’s taken my name.”
“Of course, my apologies. Have you had any further issues with the Chief of MacDonald since your marriage took place?”
“The MacDonald has no’ attacked again since I wrote to you.”
“Good, and Kyla?” He’d been struck almost senseless after reading of both Duncan’s marriage to Ella, then on the next page, Kyla’s marriage to Ronan Matheson as well. So much he’d missed, yet never again.
“Her mate has well and truly claimed her. Ronan is in fact our birthmother’s nephew, is now well aware of the secret of our fae blood. He holds the battle skill as you and I do, is a warrior of immense strength and has proven himself most worthy of her. Ronan also spoke to her parents in the village and all there are taking every precaution in case of a strike by our father. All has turned out rather well on that front. The fae shall live.” Words spoken quietly, their cause to ensure the fae lived one they kept a secret from all but their most trusted, and even though he trusted his men implicitly, as well as the chiefs of their allied clans, they still took all care.
“Then Ronan is worthy indeed. Have you received any word from Father?” He’d be furious upon hearing of Kyla’s marriage to a man who wasn’t one of his sons.
“Furious, as is to be expected, although I’ve also sent him word of my marriage to Ella and that seems to have appeased him a touch. She’s a fae compeller, her skill so very strong, no’ that I married her for any reason other than I love her. These are difficult days though, and I’m deathly sick of Father’s demands. ’Tis a shame we cannae break away from him completely.”
“Agreed, but one day he shall no longer walk upon this Earth, and we must bide our time until then.” Already they’d done a great deal to separate themselves, and when his father breathed his last, he needed to be able to take control of their entire clan, including his father’s holding should he wish to continue his mission of ensuring the fae lived. For now, he remained here at his own stronghold, while Duncan maintained his own keep a mere hour or two’s ride away.
“Coll MacKenzie!” Hands on her hips, Kyla glared from the top step, moonbeams streaming down from high above and bathing her in a stunning shimmer of gold, from her hair to her gown and slippered toes. She appeared the angel she’d always been, even with the furious frown on her face. “’Tis about time you returned home.”
“Come here and beat me up if you wish.”
“You can be certain I will.” Although she’d never been able to stay angry at him for long, and it appeared she couldn’t this night either. With a catch to her breath, she grinned and dashed toward him, her vibrant skirts swishing and golden-red locks streaming behind her as she ran.