Page 32 of The Lion

“Are ye competing?” Gideon asked when he entered the great hall.

“If I compete in the stone put, Ewan will beat me. If I compete in the caber toss, Duncan will win. In archery, Stuart will.” Darach looked to his younger brother smirking and continued, “Perhaps I will do the hammer throw, it could be Gavin Macgregor is not up to the task today.”

“I will win the hammer throw,” Gideon said.

“Then I will participate in that one. I can beat ye, I think.”

Gideon had filled in recently, becoming more muscular, and was as wily as he was strong. “Ye have not been practicing,” he quipped.

Darach blew out a breath and headed to his study. “I have much to do. Sign me up for whatever ye wish. I will win.”

“Dance it is,” Gideon said with a mischievous chuckle.

Stuart, Gideon, Ewan, and Cairn, along with another member of the council joined Darach in his study. The discussion became somewhat animated after Stuart brought up talks with the Uisdein.

“I believe we should wait,” Ewan advised. “The Uisdein is mistrustful of us. Despite sending messengers, he has refused to meet.”

Darach looked to the council members. “Surely one of ye knows what happened between him and my father. There must have been an agreement that the Uisdein believes we have broken.”

“The Uisdein and yer father were never on very good terms, as ye are aware,” Cairn replied. “The only thing they ever discussed was an alliance based on Stuart marrying his eldest daughter.”

Stuart’s face turned hard. “And that was broken without any reason given.”

“I will try again,” Darach said. “Once these festivities and my marriage ceremony are over, I plan to go visit the Uisdein myself.”

The men in the room were silent. By his brothers’ expressions, they did not agree. The councilmen exchanged looks, but no one contradicted him.

He studied Cairn for a long moment. “Cairn, ye went with my father the last time. If there was something discussed, surely ye were included.”

“Yer brother went as well,” Cairn quickly said looking to Stuart. “There were no meetings between the lairds that both of us were not present at. I can attest to there being animosity and reluctance on the Uisdein’s part. He did not seem to care for the alliance.”

“Then why did he agree?” Ewan asked.

Stuart shrugged. “Because the lass and I were intimate.”

“Ah.” Darach let out a breath. “That makes sense then.”

Deciding he would speak to Stuart alone later and find out exactly what transpired, Darach stood. “I must go dress for this festival. Gideon, what am I competing in?”

His brother lifted an eyebrow. “Since ye didna want to lose, I signed ye up for the sword dance.”

From the grins and exchange of looks, it was obvious his brothers had planned it together.

“Ye have a challenger. Miles MacTavish is claiming to be a better dancer and will win against ye.”

Darach stared at his brothers. “I will not be dancing.”

“It has been announced,” Gideon replied. “Ye cannot back out now. Ye will not win the hammer throw, but ye may give Miles MacTavish a good run.”

Not sure what else to say, he shook his head and stalked from the room.

Despite him sending the valet off, he was grateful that Ramey was there to help him don his chieftain clothing. Kilt, dark tunic, and a sash pinned with the Ross crest across his chest.

“Sporran?”

“No,” Darach replied, annoyed at the thought of the damn thing slapping against him when he walked, or if his brothers had their way, danced.

Outside the sounds of bagpipes and drums sounded and he went to the large windows to look down. Many people had gathered and milled about. A group of young lasses danced, holding hands and prancing in circles.