Page 15 of Wolf Heir (Highland Wolves of Old #3)

Just as Coinneach feared, he was pitted against Aodhan first. He couldn’t use the same technique on Aodhan to take him down, not when the champion could be expecting it. Ready for the fight with Coinneach, Aodhan was grinning like a fool.

Coinneach’s stomach twisted in knots; he sighed and drew his sword. Other men were gathered around, but they weren’t fighting. They were watching to see what happened next between him and the champion. He had hoped no one would observe what was to come.

Aodhan had removed his shirt. Coinneach did not.

The two men took their stances. This time, Coinneach didn’t hesitate to take the offensive and struck Aodhan’s sword with such force that Aodhan faltered and nearly lost it.

Several of the men gasped in surprise. And then cheered.

Aodhan smiled, appearing pleased. His heart beating hard, Coinneach would not want to fight him in real combat. Aodhan swung at Coinneach, but he blocked his sword and leaped away to avoid the full brunt of the attack.

Coinneach jumped back into the fray and quickly thrust his sword at Aodhan. The champion swung his sword to stop the thrust, but he didn’t have the might that he would have had if he’d been more prepared.

Coinneach slashed at his sword again to keep him off guard, but striking the steel was like hitting a stone wall this time. Aodhan’s muscular arms were massive. Again, Coinneach jumped out of the way to avoid another clash with Aodhan’s sword.

And dove right in after Aodhan’s swing missed him. Coinneach poked his sword at Aodhan’s belly.

“I’ll keep you on my side.” Aodhan offered his hand.

Winded and sweating like crazy, Coinneach was glad the fight had ended. He shook Aodhan’s hand in camaraderie. “I feel the same way about you.”

“With you, I never know what to expect.” Aodhan motioned to the other men. “Looks like some others want to try their chances with you.”

Coinneach wondered if Aodhan had been holding back on him when fighting. He hated that he was second-guessing his ability to fight.

Then another man engaged Coinneach, and he gave it his all. Now that Coinneach wasn't fighting the champion, the others started to fight each other in practice. Aodhan was talking to a couple of maids who brought him ale, both smiling and fluttering their eyelashes at him.

The man Coinneach was fighting nearly knocked his sword from his hand, and he realized he had to concentrate!

Coinneach finally knocked his opponent’s sword from his hand and was instantly besieged by a new sparring partner. He wasn’t used to fighting this hard or long, and when he finally managed to knock the man off balance, he fell, and Coinneach was the victor.

Another man came to fight him, and Coinneach did his best to beat him. Farming worked different muscles, though swinging the ax to chop up so much firewood before he broke his fast this morning might have been one of the problems. He was ready to take a break.

This time, Coinneach was caught off guard. The man fighting him cut through his shirt and into his skin. Coinneach fell back. Blood stained the cloth.

Coinneach held up his hand to say he was done.

The other man shook his hand. “Are you all right?”

“Just a scratch.”

Aisling rushed forth. “’Tis more than a scratch as much as you are bleeding. Come, we will see my mother and she’ll take care of it.”

Drustan came over to see how he fared. “Were you thinking of the lass when Tristan cut you?” Drustan smirked. “Remove your shirt so I can see how bad it is.”

Her eyes wide, Aisling shook her head at Coinneach almost imperceptibly.

“’Tis naught,” Coinneach said.

But Drustan insisted. “That’s for me to decide since you work for me.”

Coinneach didn’t have a choice. He pulled off his shirt.

Aisling frowned. “I told you it was bad.”

“So sorry, Coinneach,” the man who had cut him said. Tristan was the same size as Coinneach, in terms of muscle and build.

“No problem.” Coinneach would rather have lost his sword than been injured.

“Take him to see Blair.” Drustan motioned to Aisling to take Coinneach with her.

“Aye.” Aisling waited for Coinneach to put his shirt back on, took his hand, and pulled him toward the keep.

“’Tis no’ that bad.”

“If it gets infected, it will be bad.” Aisling glanced at him. “I canna believe they pitted you against Aodhan again.”

“Probably to see if I could best him in a swordfight this time. I dinna believe he used his full strength against me.”

She scoffed. “He is the champion. He wouldna hold back.”

Still, Coinneach had his doubts.

Aisling had been horrified to see Coinneach pitted against Aodhan again. She was surprised when one of the men was ultimately able to cut Coinneach. She was glad Drustan had agreed with her that her mother needed to take care of Coinneach, but she wished he hadn’t had him remove his shirt.

When they reached the castle doors, one of the men opened them, and they went inside. “I’ll find my mother. You wait in the great hall.”

He sighed. “Aye.”

Aisling suspected he wished she hadn’t made a fuss about his wound, but this could be serious.

She ran up the stairs to the fourth floor and found her mother checking on Morag.

Aisling didn’t want to have to face her.

Not that the woman paid her any attention, a lowly kitchen servant.

But after learning what Morag had made her mother do, Aisling hated her.

“One of the men was wounded during the practice sword fight. He needs you to sew him up,” Aisling said.

Her mother said, “Morag, you dinna have any issues with your health.”

Morag waved her hand dismissively. “Go see to the man. Wait, who is it?”

Both women waited expectantly to hear who he was. Aisling didn’t want to say in front of Morag, but she feared her silence would make her suspicious.

“Coinneach.”

Morag gave a wicked smile. “Aodhan beat him this time.”

“Nay, Tristan did.”

“Tristan?” Morag's face turned into a scowl. “Coinneach was supposed to fight Aodhan.”

“He did. And he beat him and three others. Then Tristan fought him and cut Coinneach.” But Aisling couldn’t believe that Morag knew that Coinneach was supposed to battle the champion. Had she set him up to take the fall?

“I must see to him,” Aisling’s mother said, and she and Aisling hurried off to the great hall.

They didn’t speak for a while, but then her mother finally whispered, “Did he take off his shirt?”

“Nay, no’ until Drustan wanted to see his wound. And then he put his shirt right back on.”

“Och. And close up. Where is the wound?”

“Near his shoulder.”

Her mother shook her head. “I tell you, this willna go well.”

But Aisling was still thinking about Morag and how she had hoped Aodhan had hurt Coinneach. She was evil. She just hoped she didn’t suspect who he was.

As soon as Aisling and her mother arrived at the great hall, they saw Gormelia giving Coinneach ale.

“You have no worries about him with her,” Aisling’s mother said.

Aisling knew she didn’t have to worry that Coinneach would take an interest in Gormelia, but she still hated to see her try to stir up trouble between her and Coinneach.

“You can leave now, Gormelia,” Aisling’s mother said sternly.

“I was just keeping him company until you arrived.” Gormelia smiled, but a glint of the devil marred her eyes. Then she sashayed off.

Aisling helped Coinneach remove his shirt. Her mother gasped.

“I told you he needed you.”

“Aye. Tristan should be taken to task for injuring you so.” Her mother cleaned the wound and then began to stitch it up.

“It was my folly.” Coinneach winced when she poked the needle through his skin again.

“You can cry out if it makes you feel better.” Aisling couldn’t imagine suffering through the pain without making a sound, but all he did was grit his teeth, and her comment earned her a smile.

However, her mother was all business and continued to sew up the laceration. “You canna fight until this heals. You must change the dressing daily to avoid infection.”

Once she had made twenty-one stitches, she applied an herbal poultice.

Then she wrapped a bandage around his chest. When they heard someone else enter the great hall and saw it was Morag and a couple of her lady companions, Aisling’s mother quickly wrapped the dressing around his shoulder to cover up his wolf birthmark and then tied it off.

Frowning, Morag drew close. “How bad is it?”

“He needed over twenty stitches,” Aisling’s mother said.

“Thank you, Blair. I must see where I’m needed now.” Coinneach pulled on his shirt.

Before Aisling expected it, he kissed her on the mouth. Then he strode out of the great hall, maybe to avoid a confrontation with her mother for kissing her or Morag’s continued interest in his wound. Then again, he probably just wanted to prove he could work on his first day on the job.

“Do you approve of their union?” Morag asked Aisling’s mother.

Aisling held her breath to hear if her mother would say yes.

“You ken how it is with wolves when they meet the one who is the right one for them.” Aisling’s mother did not address the question.

“I suppose.” Then Morag turned on her heel and left, her maids dutifully following her out of the great hall.

Once they were gone, Aisling’s mother said, “You see how we can all be in danger?”

“What did Blair say about your working?” Drustan asked Coinneach when he sought him out.

“No fighting for a few days. You know, as wolves, we heal fast.”

“All right. I’m putting you on wall duty. Aodhan, who no longer has to serve in that capacity, said he would show you how it’s done. If you canna manage because of your wound, retire to the barracks.”

“Aye.” Coinneach had no intention of sleeping for now.

Aodhan joined them, and Drustan inclined his head to him and left.

“How bad is it?” Aodhan asked as he and Coinneach climbed the tower stairs to the wall walk.

“Nothing to worry about.”

“If we are to work together and have each other’s backs, we must be honest with each other. I need only to ask Blair, and she will tell me the truth.”