Page 51 of Fearless Heart

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Heath was about to search the woods for Lillia when she bounded from the trees. She’d been gone too long, and he began to worry something happened to her. Relieved, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard.

“Really, I know not why you greeted me so, but I’m gladdened to see you too.” She laughed and sat upon the bedding he’d placed.

“What took you so long?”

She snatched a piece of bread from Brodin. “I got turned around and … a wee bit lost. But I saw the fire …”

“Let us rest. We’ll start out early and should reach the keep by mid morn.” Heath pulled a tartan over them, but would get no rest. Likewise, neither would Brodin. They were too close to MacKintosh land and until they reached the keep, they’d be vigilant.

In the morning, they set out and rode hard for a few hours. Once again sentries lined the lane leading to the gatehouse. The gate was closed and as soon as the guard spotted him it was raised. Heath didn’t like that his home was on alert. There was a time when they needn’t be as cautious.

At the keep, they entered and Heath approached his da who sat at the long table by himself. His father gave no greeting.

“Da …”

His father startled. “Ah, Heath, is that you? ‘Tis glad I am you arrived.”

“Aye da, I’ve come as you asked. Did you not see me enter?” Heath tilted his head, perplexed by his da’s inattentiveness.

“My old eyes aren’t working well these days, which is why I sent for you. Before I depart, I want to settle the matter with the MacKintoshs. I’ve a writ that I want you to take to their laird. You must be the one to attend to the truce.”

“Da, you could’ve sent any number of Fraser men, even Uncle Andrew. Why send me?” Heath kept his conversation low so Brodin and Lillia couldn’t hear. They stood by the hearth warming themselves and were content to await him.

“When ye take over as laird, I don’t want you to have to fight my battles. I caused this riff and shouldn’t have …” His da’s gaze seemed to go off as if he envisioned the event.

“It matters not, Da. Whatever you did, I’m sure it was necessary.” Heath tensed at his father’s words, but he wouldn’t speak his rebuke to becoming laird or settling the truce with the MacKintosh clan. “I will go and ensure the MacKintoshs receive your writ. Lillia will stay here, but I’ll take Brodin with me, no others. I don’t want to be deemed a threat and if I take more men with me, it might give the wrong impression.”

His da nodded. “Ye see that is why I want you to become laird. You’re sensible, Heath, and will do what’s best for the clan.”

He took the parchment from the table and set a consoling hand on his father’s shoulder. Heath took a moment to tell Lillia that he’d be gone for a few hours and bid Brodin to attend him.

“Be careful,” Lillia said.

He kissed her cheek and nodded, but said nothing more on his way out of the keep.

On the ride to the MacKintosh’s keep, Heath read the writ. He was astounded by what his father offered for the truce—his hand in marriage. His father hadn’t known he’d wedded Lillia, and he should’ve told him as soon as he arrived. They’d jested about him marrying Lillia when they were last at home, but perhaps his father didn’t deem he’d go through with it. Heath would need to substitute his name with another. Only no name came to mind. He chuckled to himself thinking of his Uncle Andrew. His uncle was a widower, but he was a contentious old bugger. No woman in her right mind would want to be wed to him.

When he arrived at his clan’s enemy’s keep, he expected hostility and that’s exactly what he received. He hadn’t envisioned standing upon the gate’s threshold with numerous swords pointed at him. Even so, he maintained a composed mien.

“Fraser to see Laird MacKintosh.” He’d say no more to the laird’s underlings. While he waited for MacKintosh to be fetched, he gave a silent command to Brodin to keep from pulling his sword. His comrade wasn’t one to stand by idly whilst be threatened. He relaxed when Brodin seemed to accept his signal. The plan was simple; he intended to have a peaceful meeting even if it killed him, which was improbable given his reception and the legendary temperament of the MacKintosh laird.

A large robust man with the reddest hair he’d ever seen tromped toward the gate. “Ye be a Fraser?”

“Laird Simon Fraser’s son, Heath. I have come at his behest.” Heath stepped back when the gate opened.

“We will speak on the keep steps for I won’t allow my own enemy within my home.”

Heath followed the man. As they reached the main steps, the man turned. “Laird Osgar MacKintosh. Tell me, young Fraser, why you have come.”

He maintained a relaxed stance and as amiable an expression as he could. “My da is dying. He wishes to put an end to the feud. He wants peace before he departs.”

Osgar firmed his lips, his eyes scrunching. “I am sorry to hear that. Your da has been a great adversary. Och I don’t understand why he sent you.”

“I’m to be laird and his hope was to wed me to one of your lassies. But I’ve already wed unbeknownst to him.”

The MacKintosh laird laughed hard, his shoulders moving with his mirth.