Warlord’s Prize: Highlander’s Honor ~ Book 3 by Maitland Avery

Author:Maitland, Avery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FireHive Media
Published: 2020-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Lachlann had been awake before dawn, pacing the courtyard of his mother’s keep. Donnal appeared, limping slightly, but with a determined set to his jaw. Brother Aldus, despite his hard looks, stood aside while Donnal mounted the horse that was brought for him.

The monk handed Lachlann a folded piece of parchment sealed with a fresh blob of red wax. “I have done what I can, but the stubborn man would not lie still unless I drugged him. And even then it did not last long.” Donnal chuckled and Brother Aldus frowned at him. “If he survives the journey, see that this is given to the apothecary at Inveraray. He will tend to Donnal’s wounds. As much as he can.”

Lachlann patted the man’s cheek. “Be of good cheer, Monk. I’ll see that the man doesnae come apart at the seams while we ride.”

Brother Aldus snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “See that you do.”

“He is in a sour mood this mornin’,” Donnal observed as Lachlann mounted his own horse and pulled up beside him.

“Aye. Dinnae worry over it. He’ll remember his humor by the time we return with the laird’s blessing and men behind us.”

Graham Eliott mounted his horse and spurred it forward. “The messengers yer mother sent out have brought men in from the surrounds. We ride with a company. Nathan McArthur will have no choice but to listen tae reason.”

Lachlann nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Angus Mackenzie should have returned with his wayward wife by now.

Eliott clapped Lachlann on the back. “Mackenzie will meet us at Inveraray. I cannot see yer wife goin’ quietly.”

Lachlann chuckled. “She’ll give him trouble, of that I havenae any doubt.”

His commander grinned. “I hope for his sake that he’s man enough tae handle it.”

Lachlann tightened his grip on the reins and pressed his heels into his horse’s flanks. As they rode through the gates he looked back to see his mother standing in the courtyard with her hand raised in farewell. They would return soon enough, and with any luck, they would return with the laird’s men behind them.

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