Chapter 3
The MacBains were an unusuallystoic lot the morning they set off from Oliphant Castle, and it had everything to do with the amount of ale they’d consumed the night before. Pudge was the only one of the lot who looked in his usual spirits—where usual spirits, in his case, meant scowling—and that was only because Kester had never seen anyone who could drink as much as the grizzled veteran could and still remain upright.
Aye, his men had over-indulged the night before and were paying the price this morning. But who could blame them? The Oliphants knew how to throw a party when one of their own married…and his men had come to enjoy the hospitality of the clan.
There’d been grumbles when Kester announced they were leaving, especially when the men learned where they were headed and why. They’d miss the Oliphants.
Almost as much as Kester would.
This morning, the sun seemed too bright and their horse’s steps too jarring. The land was beautiful, aye, but he doubted any of them were actually appreciating it.
For his part, Kester’s sour stomach had naught to do with the ale he’d consumed at the wedding celebration they’d attended last night, and everything to do with the woman he hadn’t seen.
He hadn’t participated in the dancing or carousing, but spent the evening with his back to the wall, sipping at his ale, and watching for Robena. Oh, she’d attended the celebration, but hadn’t danced, and had left before ‘twas over.
She’d looked…disconcertedly happy.
Och, he wanted her to be happy! He wasn’t disappointed by her easy smile, or the way she danced with her new brother-in-law, and held her new niece aloft. Nay, he was glad to see she’d moved on from the disaster in the secret passage, where he’d kissed her and then told her he couldn’t marry her.
But did she have to do it so quickly?
Kester’s chest felt hollow, as if he was missing something important. As if he’d left it back at Oliphant Castle….
And ‘twas a little galling to realize she’d gotten over him so quickly.
So, aye, this was guilt and sorrow and pain all mixed together in his stomach to make him feel miserable this morning.
Mayhap he needed to eat.
“Laird, ye’re certain we shouldnae have waited?” Giric was frowning as he twisted in his saddle to look over his shoulder, as if he could see the now-distant Castle. “The Oliphant said he wanted to send some warriors with us to the Games.”
Before Kester could reply, Auld Gommy snorted.
“Ye’re just disappointed ye couldnae stay longer,” he teased the younger man. “How many lasses did ye bed last night, eh?”
Since ‘twas well-known Giric was considered the handsomest man this side of Inverness, Kester wasn’t surprised to see his warrior smile smugly and toss back his blond curls.
“A gentleman never reveals his conquests, Gommy. Ye’d ken that, were ye a gentleman.”
“Pay nae attention to him, lad,” growled Pudge. “He’s just jealous he couldnae even get a lass to smile at him.”
Giric shook his head. “Gommy’s too auld to ken what to do with a lass if she smiled at him.”
As Auld Gommy sputtered in anger, Weesil sidled up to Kester. “The pretty lad’s right, Laird. Were we supposed to wait for Oliphant warriors?”
Kester stifled his sigh, unwilling to admit he’d been as anxious to depart the place of hard memories as his men had been to stay.
“We didnae leave until after dawn, Weesil. If he’d intended to send men along, they would’ve been waiting.”
“After a night of carousing?” The skinny man always spoke quietly, almost too low to hear. The others claimed his voice was as devious as the rest of him, but he was a good man in a fight, and his clansmen trusted him. Mostly.
Just dinnae bet against him.
Kester shook his head. “We’re still on Oliphant land. If they want to join us, they’ll catch up.”
From up ahead, there came a familiar rumbling. All the MacBains looked expectantly at the large figure on the larger horse who led them.
“Or they’ll wait for us,” Mook shouted.