The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7) by Keira Montclair
Authors: Keira Montclair
Ads: Link
every bounce jarring his wound and shooting pain through his system. Choosing to ignore it, he continued onward.
“About fifty men. Cameron, you should not be here. You do not look well enough to fight. One swing of your sword will undo all and send you back to the healer.”
“I recognize how precarious this will be for me, but I will do what I can. I will not lead the charge, but I shall be there as chieftain. I am obligated.” Somehow, he felt this was wrong. Jennie’s advice would not leave him. He knew fighting would jeopardize all he had gained in the two sennights since his injury, but as chieftain, it was his job to lead. He prayed his sire understood the precarious position he was in, and would not think poorly of him for staying to the rear.
“And as chieftain, you have an obligation to protect yourself. Your clan cannot afford to lose another in such a short time. Ruari is not yet of age.”
Neil, the head of his guard, rode up on his other side. Neil had been a most trusted warrior of the Camerons for as long as he could remember. He had been most devoted to his sire, and Aedan would never forget that loyalty.
Neil said, “I will lead the charge, Aedan. Dermid is right. We cannot lose a second chief within such a short time. You are here, which is most honorable, but I see how pained your movements are. Leading the charge would be the same as sending you to slaughter. If your sire was alive, he’d have my arse for even allowing you here.”
Aedan quirked his brow at Neil.
“No offense intended, my laird. I know how hard you try, and your efforts will be rewarded, but only if you are still alive. I respectfully request to lead the charge, as I have before for your sire. Our lads have trained hard since the skirmishes first started.”
He pondered his guard’s advice, then came to his conclusion. “Aye, I’ll stay at the rear, but only because it will give me a better opportunity to watch the attackers and their movements. With any luck, it will help me identify them.” He glanced ahead and saw the group of marauders headed straight for them, swords in the air, intent on killing them all.
Aedan raised his sword to the best of his best ability and bellowed the Cameron war whoop while his men followed, but he slowed his horse and allowed the others to overtake him. Just one lift of his sword sent warm fluid running down his belly, just as Jennie had advised. He would have to be careful, but he would not go back. He had promised his sire, and as much as he detested battle, he would continue onward. His honor would allow nothing else.
The clashing of swords echoed in the warm midday sun of early autumn, and Aedan was proud of how hard his men fought. As usual, the marauders were not wearing plaids, and there were no crests or anything else to identify them. However, he detected one important clue.
Some of the attackers shouted orders without a brogue. They were English. This explained why no one recognized them. They were not from this area.
Who was driving this group? What was their mission? He drove into the group with his sword drawn, hoping the strength of his sword arm would be enough to compensate for the fact that he could not put the force of his full body behind each swing.
But the lass had been correct in her assessment. Not long into the fight, he grew light headed. He could ignore pain, but he couldn’t clear his head. A fog settled in his brain to the point of slowing his movements. A quick assessment of the field told him his warriors were stronger than their opponents, and would prevail. There were few injuries on their side and all remained seated on their horses. The other side did not fare well.
In fact, if he had held back a few moments more, everything would have turned out fine. But he was stubborn. He continued to fight through the haze in his brain, clutching his sword with a weakening grip. He swung at the next attacker and speared him on the end of his sword, a death
“About fifty men. Cameron, you should not be here. You do not look well enough to fight. One swing of your sword will undo all and send you back to the healer.”
“I recognize how precarious this will be for me, but I will do what I can. I will not lead the charge, but I shall be there as chieftain. I am obligated.” Somehow, he felt this was wrong. Jennie’s advice would not leave him. He knew fighting would jeopardize all he had gained in the two sennights since his injury, but as chieftain, it was his job to lead. He prayed his sire understood the precarious position he was in, and would not think poorly of him for staying to the rear.
“And as chieftain, you have an obligation to protect yourself. Your clan cannot afford to lose another in such a short time. Ruari is not yet of age.”
Neil, the head of his guard, rode up on his other side. Neil had been a most trusted warrior of the Camerons for as long as he could remember. He had been most devoted to his sire, and Aedan would never forget that loyalty.
Neil said, “I will lead the charge, Aedan. Dermid is right. We cannot lose a second chief within such a short time. You are here, which is most honorable, but I see how pained your movements are. Leading the charge would be the same as sending you to slaughter. If your sire was alive, he’d have my arse for even allowing you here.”
Aedan quirked his brow at Neil.
“No offense intended, my laird. I know how hard you try, and your efforts will be rewarded, but only if you are still alive. I respectfully request to lead the charge, as I have before for your sire. Our lads have trained hard since the skirmishes first started.”
He pondered his guard’s advice, then came to his conclusion. “Aye, I’ll stay at the rear, but only because it will give me a better opportunity to watch the attackers and their movements. With any luck, it will help me identify them.” He glanced ahead and saw the group of marauders headed straight for them, swords in the air, intent on killing them all.
Aedan raised his sword to the best of his best ability and bellowed the Cameron war whoop while his men followed, but he slowed his horse and allowed the others to overtake him. Just one lift of his sword sent warm fluid running down his belly, just as Jennie had advised. He would have to be careful, but he would not go back. He had promised his sire, and as much as he detested battle, he would continue onward. His honor would allow nothing else.
The clashing of swords echoed in the warm midday sun of early autumn, and Aedan was proud of how hard his men fought. As usual, the marauders were not wearing plaids, and there were no crests or anything else to identify them. However, he detected one important clue.
Some of the attackers shouted orders without a brogue. They were English. This explained why no one recognized them. They were not from this area.
Who was driving this group? What was their mission? He drove into the group with his sword drawn, hoping the strength of his sword arm would be enough to compensate for the fact that he could not put the force of his full body behind each swing.
But the lass had been correct in her assessment. Not long into the fight, he grew light headed. He could ignore pain, but he couldn’t clear his head. A fog settled in his brain to the point of slowing his movements. A quick assessment of the field told him his warriors were stronger than their opponents, and would prevail. There were few injuries on their side and all remained seated on their horses. The other side did not fare well.
In fact, if he had held back a few moments more, everything would have turned out fine. But he was stubborn. He continued to fight through the haze in his brain, clutching his sword with a weakening grip. He swung at the next attacker and speared him on the end of his sword, a death
Similar Books
