The Highlander's Time

nor did he have hours to waste cajoling an old man from the only home he'd known. He also knew Graham wasnae long for this world. His advanced age and poor health said as much. “I think he will curse me to the ends of the earth.” Which wasnae aught out of the normal. The man hadnae ever had a kind word to say unless he was hunting for a favor from his laird. Propping his fists on his hips, Iaen steered his gaze to the Great Doors. “If this is how he wants to meet his end, I'll not interfere.”
    “Milord, you speak suicide.”
    “Nay, Kevin, I speak of a man's right to face death on his own terms.” To Iaen's thinking, if he had his choice, he'd prefer to die at the end of a sword than to the fate of a helpless old man lingering in bed. He was a warrior, and by God, he'd die with honor, hopefully in the heat of battle.
    “As you wish, milord.”
    A rumble of thunder rolled through the Great Hall. The unusual acoustics of the vaulted, open beamed ceiling turned the sound into a riotous roar. “Keep me apprised of the situation at the river.” Why he felt the need to reiterate his order to a man he knew would follow him straight to the gates of Hell, Iaen didnae know. He turned toward the wooden stairs leading to his chamber. His sword hand itched to grip his blade, to battle back the weather, and claim victory. What good was a sword versus a storm let alone one of this strength? His weapon against a raging river? Naught.
    Uselessness sat like hot lead in his belly. Flexing his hand open and closed, he climbed the stairs. The thud of his footfalls against the treads echoed in the cavernous room. Halfway to the landing, he stopped. “Send a messenger to the families living on the border; the Great Doors are open should they come under attack or if their stores grow low.” A small, sardonic smile flitted across his lips. “We may suffer tight quarters for a while, my friend.”
    “Aye, milord. Now, if the twins come to the Keep, 'twill be worth the close confines.”
    Iaen laughed at Kevin. For as long as he'd known the man, he'd lusted after Megan or Mary. The problem with desiring identical twins was Kevin couldnae tell the two apart. Iaen could, but he didnae want either of the twins in his bed. “Try staring at their faces rather than watching their arses go by.”
    “The view from the backend is much more pleasant, though.”
    “Aye, but to have a woman meet you eye to eye and toe to toe—that's a woman you can find happiness with.”
    “When might you find that joy, milord? You know what the women say?”
    “I have heard the gossip, Kevin. Afore long, I will take myself a bride.” Just who the unfortunate lass would be was beyond him.
    “Thank God. My mama was beginning to worry Castle Kincaid would never ring with the sound of children's laughter again nor glow with the warmth of a lady fair.”
    “Kevin, you sound like an old washer woman.”
    “Aye, milord, but 'tis time you took a bride. The clan will find hope in it.”
    “I am well aware.” Now the task was to find a woman who could survive the harsh Highland weather and create a peaceful home for a man who had never known solace. You arenae an easy man to live with . The reminder of his unbending attitude made Iaen wonder if there was such a prize anywhere in the known world. “Be about your duties.”
    He watched Kevin bow and then head for the Great Doors. A drip from the ceiling splashed lightly on Iaen’s tunic-clad shoulder. A curse upon me He tilted his eyes to the ceiling. A rivulet of water flowed from the center beam to the mortise and tenon joint. From there it traveled to where it dripped on him.
    Rather than call for a servant to bring him a bucket, he retraced his steps. He was walking toward the kitchen when a much louder rumble of thunder reverberated through Castle Kincaid.
    Iaen frowned at the sound, or more's the point, the lack of echo. His gaze inspected the empty room. Finishing his journey to the table, he dumped the bowl of apples and carried the wooden vessel back to where he'd first felt the drip. An uncomfortable stillness settled inside the castle.
    A shout from his chamber had him taking the stairs two at a time. Nay, 'twasn't a scream for help, but a woman's cry of terror . The sound of feet following him spun him around. “Kevin, with me. Malcolm,” he continued to the young MacAllister warrior trailing his second-in-command, “stay on the balcony.”
    Iaen nodded for Kevin to open the door.