Page 11 of Highland Heroine (Brides of the Highlands #3)

T he Highland air bristled with restless energy as Moira McAfee watched from the parapet of McAfee Keep, eyes on the horizon.

“MacGregor… Mackenzie… Campbell…” Moira murmured, counting the emblems waving in the wind, symbols of alliances formed out of necessity. Emissaries had returned from each clan, their arrival marking a reprieve from bloodshed and bolstering their confederation.

Moira was thrilled so many clans had decided to join them in their fight.

At first, she’d been surprised that more hadn’t shown up, but now that the emissaries had explained to each laird what was happening, and how their lives would change if they didn’t stand up for their Highland ways of life, they were coming around.

A cheer erupted as Moira joined her clansfolk in the courtyard where preparations for the evening’s ceilidh were underway.

Torches flared to life, filling the air with warmth and aromas of roasting venison and barley bread.

Musicians tuned fiddles and pipes; melodies rose above conversations within ancient stone walls.

Duncan’s voice boomed. “Tonight, we dance not as separate clans but as one.” Moira found herself swept into the whirl of kilted men whose faces bore marks of harsh winters and fierce battles.

Feasting followed dancing with platters piled high. Laughter mixed with clinking tankards, and tales of valor and mischief ignited camaraderie amid shared purpose.

Brodie sidled up beside Moira, remarking on the joyous atmosphere despite looming threats. To this, Moira replied, “It is this very joy that reminds us what we’re fighting for.”

As the ceilidh carried on, a Highland alliance formed not only through oaths but shared laughter and dance—a fleeting peace nestled between inevitable battles on the horizon.

Duncan had often told his daughters that alliances were made faster through shared meals than shared battles.

The feasts were to help solidify the alliance.

The ceilidh’s fervor softened to hushed stories and laughter when Moira noticed Lucas Gordon weaving through the McAfees. His freshly woven plaid attire, clasped by a brooch, mirrored their own.

“Doesn’t seem right,” grumbled a nearby clansman.

Moira watched as Lucas greeted an elder, receiving only a tentative smile before being left alone. Despite her people’s reservations, she couldn’t deny his role in their survival thus far.

“Ye ken they’re none too pleased with him,” Brodie said quietly, joining Moira.

“Have they spoken openly against him?” Moira asked, her gaze still on Lucas.

“Aye. They say a snake cannae change its scales.”

“Yet his counsel has steered us clear of Gordon traps and Stewart’s ploys,” she reasoned. “I would be the first to mistrust the man, but he’s proving worthy of our confidence in him.”

“But trust is hard-won here,” Brodie replied. “Perhaps time will prove his worth.”

Moira watched as Lucas tried once more to engage with younger warriors but withdrew under the weight of suspicion.

“Or perhaps time will unveil a truth we dare not face,” Brodie added softly, his words slicing the festive air.

Moira felt unease for the man who fought alongside them, yet stood apart. His future and loyalty remained enigmatic. “I dinnae think we can mistrust him at this point. We cannae fully trust him either, though. I suppose we’ll all have to learn to trust him and pray that he is worthy.”

*

Moira studied the parchment, her fingers tracing the lines of ink that marked clan allegiances. She noticed the Lindsays were unclaimed by either side and felt a sense of urgency.

She approached her father who was conferring with his advisors in the dimly lit hall.

“Father,” she said, presenting the parchment, “the Lindsays do not appear. I remember Elsa Lindsay; we shared words and laughter. I believe I could sway her to our cause. We were fast friends when we were younger.”

Duncan’s hand stroked his silvery beard as he considered her proposal. “It’s a perilous time, Moira. The roads are filled with danger.”

“I understand the risk, but consider the reward,” she pressed. “With Lindsay support, our position strengthens.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “Brodie will accompany ye along with a couple of guards. Ye will heed his counsel.”

“Thank ye, Father,” Moira inclined her head slightly.

“Keep yer wits about ye and return swiftly,” Duncan instructed.

“Swiftly,” she echoed before leaving to find Brodie under a star-speckled sky. The Highland wind whispered through the pines, carrying the scent of impending change. Embracing its chill and challenge, Moira set out to gather her companions for the journey.

*

Dawn broke as Moira secured her mare, the Highland chill biting at her cheeks. She observed Brodie checking the guards’ horses before they mounted and began their journey.

“Keep a keen eye on the terrain,” Brodie instructed the guards. “We must not alert the Stewarts, and their allies, as we go through Sinclair land.”

The grizzled guard nodded, while the younger one adjusted his sword belt, understanding the gravity of their mission. Moira glanced at the McAfee Keep, feeling pride in her clan’s strength. With a nod to Brodie, she led them along the narrow forest track.

Riding in silence, only the rhythmic thud of hooves and raven calls punctuated their travels. The dappled sunlight cast shadows on their path as stray curls escaped Moira’s hood, vibrant like embers.

As they traversed from woodland to open moorland, the temperature dropped with the setting sun, and Moira tightened her cloak. Brodie indicated a clearing shielded by rocks for their campsite.

They dismounted and efficiently set up camp without discussion. Huddled around a modest fire later that evening, they ate sparingly and conserved provisions.

“Ye should try to rest,” Brodie told Moira, concern evident in his eyes. “We’ll need your strength come morning.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Moira said through chattering teeth. “I’m not one to cower from the cold.”

“Stubbornness won’t keep ye warm,” Brodie replied, amused. “But I admire your spirit.”

They settled into their watches, the Highland sky stretching above them, stars mocking human frailty.

Moira’s thoughts turned to the task ahead and the uncertain welcome awaiting them.

As she drifted to sleep, with Brodie’s arms cradling her against him, dreams of swirling kilts and clashing swords filled her mind.

*

The horses’ hooves clattered on cobblestones as they entered Lindsay Keep, a stronghold weathered yet unyielding amidst rolling hills and towering pines.

Moira assessed the courtyard before dismounting gracefully. Her red hair contrasted the muted colors of the keep as Laird Lindsay greeted them with authority and hospitality.

“Thank ye, Laird Lindsay,” Moira said, Brodie at her side. “We seek yer support in an urgent matter.”

“What stirs conflict between the Stewarts and the McAfees?” Laird Lindsay inquired, ushering them inside. “I have heard many stories of the conflict, yet no one seems to be able to tell me what is at the heart of it.”

As Moira recounted their struggle against the Stewarts, Laird Lindsay’s resolve deepened. “Ye have me word,” he pledged. “The Lindsays will nae let anyone change our ways.”

Grateful for his quick commitment, Moira asked after Elsa. A smile graced Laird Lindsay’s face as he called to her.

Elsa’s arrival brought laughter and hushed secrets between old friends.

Elsa embraced Moira warmly, the years apart melting away in an instant. “It’s been far too long, me dear friend,” Elsa said, her eyes sparkling with joy. “What brings ye to our keep?”

Moira’s expression grew serious. “I’m afraid it’s not a social call, Elsa. We need your help.”

As Moira explained the Stewarts’ plot and the growing alliance against them, Elsa listened intently, her brow furrowed with concern.

“The Stewarts have always been ambitious, but this is beyond anything I could have imagined,” she said.

“Of course, we will stand with ye and the other clans. The Highlands must remain free.”

Moira couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s words.

With the Lindsays’ support, their cause gained even more strength.

“Thank you, Elsa. Your friendship and the support of Clan Lindsay mean more than ye know,” Moira said sincerely.

“Together, we will show the Stewarts that the Highlands cannot be tamed or conquered.”

The two women clasped hands, their bond of sisterhood reforged in the face of shared adversity. Brodie watched the exchange with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. The Lindsays’ allegiance brought them one step closer to thwarting the Stewarts’ schemes.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the keep, Laird Lindsay insisted that Moira and her companions stay the night. “You must rest and recover your strength before the journey back,” he urged. “And we have much to discuss and plan.”

Over a hearty meal of venison stew and fresh bread, the conversation turned to strategy.

Laird Lindsay listened intently as Moira and Brodie laid out the growing network of alliances and the Stewarts’ latest maneuvers.

“We must strike swiftly and decisively,” Laird Lindsay declared, his fist thumping the table.

“The Stewarts will not expect a coordinated assault from multiple clans. It may be our best chance to catch them off guard.”

Moira nodded in agreement. “Aye, and we must ensure that our forces are well-positioned to cut off their supply lines and isolate their strongholds. The Stewarts are cunning, but they are not invincible.” And as the allied army grew bigger and stronger, there was no doubt they would have the manpower to do whatever needed to be done.

Each clan that joined them brought more strength, and her confidence grew that they would be the victors.

As the evening wore on, talk turned to lighter matters, and laughter echoed through the halls of Lindsay Keep. Elsa regaled them with tales of her own adventures, and Moira found herself grateful for the respite from the constant strain of war.

Elsa told them of her betrothal to one of her father’s men, blushing as she mentioned that he was strong and would be a good husband to her.

Moira smiled at her friend’s happiness, but a twinge of envy touched her heart.

Her own marriage hadn’t been celebrated as she would have liked.

Her path was one of duty and sacrifice, and she had accepted that long ago.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t wish for her wedding to be more celebrated than it had been.

Perhaps when it was all over, and the Highlands had returned to their normal way of life, she and Ailis could throw a huge ceilidh to make up for the wedding celebrations that hadn’t occurred. She would talk to Ailis about it…after they’d beaten the Stewarts.

As the night grew late, Laird Lindsay showed Moira and Brodie to their quarters. The room was simple but comfortable, with a crackling fire in the hearth and soft furs on the bed. Moira sank onto the mattress, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle upon her.

Brodie hesitated by the door, his expression unreadable in the flickering firelight. “I’ll take the first watch,” he said quietly. “Ye need yer rest, Moira.”

She nodded, too tired to argue. As Brodie slipped out of the room.

As she lay in the darkness, staring up at the rough-hewn beams of the ceiling, a soft knock sounded at the door. She was unsure if Brodie had finally decided to join her, or if someone else was knocking.

“Come in,” Moira called, sitting up in bed.

Elsa slipped into the room, a single candle casting a warm glow across her face. “I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed, perching on the edge of the bed. “I keep thinking about what lies ahead, and I fear for what the future may hold.”

Moira reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I know, Elsa. The road before us is uncertain and fraught with danger. But we have each other, and we have the strength of our clans behind us. We will face whatever comes, together.”

“I cannae wait until ye are at McAfee Keep, and ye can meet me sisters. It’s odd that we’ve been friends for years, and ye’ve never met the two of them.”

Elsa smiled. “Meeting them will be a true pleasure. I dinnae know if Father wants me to join him at yer keep, but I think there’s strength in numbers, and I will push him to do so.”

“We cannae let years go by when we don’t see one another again,” Moira said. “Ye will be very welcome in me home.”