Page 37 of A Fearless Rebel

A torch illuminated a banner that was lifted as men called out chants. It was, indeed, the MacDonnells who’d attacked.

The walls had not been breached and yet both sides had suffered causalities. Neither side had won and yet it had been enough of a warning to the Mackenzie from the opposing clan that they were not to be toyed with.

If Keithen were to guess, the lack of support from local clans also sent a hard message to the new laird. They were without allies. That was a direct result of their past misdeeds.

Riding back to the keep, Keithen cradled his arm against his body. The cut, which was on the forearm, throbbed. His left side ached from a strike and he was sure there was another injury on his right shoulder.

He studied Ewan’s bloody tunic. “The healer will be busy tonight. This is not yer fight. I should have asked ye to return to the keep and not Broden.”

Ewan shrugged good-naturedly. “I was becoming bored. Tonight got my blood flowing. Tis good to keep the sword arm in good use.”

“Ye’re a good swordsman. Ye must have spent a lot of time training.” Keithen left out the part acknowledging that where Ewan grew up, there was rarely any threat or need for fighting knowledge. The people of Uist were separated from Scotland by water and, therefore, it would be hard to overtake them unless the attackers had a large fleet of birlinns to traverse the uncertain waters.

The man was a contradiction. While he was easygoing, he was still a fierce warrior. He was large in size, but often played with children in the courtyard like an oversized lad.

“Do ye plan to return to Ross Keep in the spring?” Keithen asked, truly curious.

Once again, Ewan shrugged. “I may return to Uist. I have not decided as of yet. I came here to find my true calling. My father and brother have things well in hand back home, when it comes to caring for the people and lands. My sole responsibility was to be a guard.”

“Not much different than here,” Keithen said.

“Not true.” Ewan looked up to the sky. “There was rarely an opportunity to engage in battle in Uist.”

“Battling and threats can be exhausting. People get hurt or die.”

Ewan nodded understanding. “Aye, there is that. However, I cannot understand a life without true purpose.”

Keithen understood. His own path was set. One day, he’d be laird and be responsible for the people on the land surrounding his home. He would raise a family there at Fraser Keep and would spend days tending to the needs of the people, meeting with other lairds and maintaining control of the borders. He had a purpose, which he relished. It was hard to imagine Ewan’s status. Or lack thereof.

It was nearly dawn when Keithen and Ewan finally entered the courtyard where everything was just as when they’d left.

Once they dismounted and the horses given over to the stable lads, he and Ewan made their way into the main house.

His mother rushed to him. “What happened? Ye’re injured.”

“I will live,” Keithen assured her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “However, we both require the healer.”

Catriona came to him and looked first at his arm and then to Ewan. She quickly looked away when meeting gazes with Ewan.

“Come, I will wash out yer injuries while the healer is summoned.”

They followed the woman to the back of the great room and sat at a table. Bowls of water and cloths were brought. Both he and Ewan’s tunics were cut away and what looked to be an army of servants began to clean the cuts and press compresses into bruises. Keithen frowned, noting his mother hovering and ordering for this and that to be brought.

“Mother. All I require is for my cuts to be stitched and some rest. I assure ye other than being very sleepy, I am fine.”

Her gaze roved over him, and she pinpointed an angry gash on his shoulder. “Remain still. The healer comes soon.”

“What happened last night?” he finally asked Catriona. “Why is Mother acting so overprotective?”

“A messenger arrived to inform us that yer cousin, Blair, died in an ambush. She was most alarmed when yer messenger arrived just moments later.”

He’d find out later from his father who’d killed his cousin. The other Clan Fraser was larger than theirs and whoever did it would be made to pay.

Just then, Ava appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked in his direction and hurried down. As she approached, he noted, she looked tired. Had she been up worrying about him, as well?

There was a calmness in her gaze when it traveled from his face down to the two wounds. “I will see to his wounds,” Ava said, taking a cloth from a servant. “Please bring whisky, needle and thread.”

Moments later, he was laid onto the table. Ava placed a clean cloth over his chest and crossed his left arm atop it. “This will burn a bit.” She poured whisky into the wound.