Chapter One
 

​

April 1297

     ‘Anyone feeling we should let the fire die?’

     Seoc of the Clan Graham threw on another log, squatted next to his bench and poked the fire with a thick branch. The fire sparked to life, unlike the dead empty space inside his chest where his heart used to be.

     ‘Feels good.’ Hamilton sat on the dense log while his twin brother, Camron, shifted on the other makeshift bench.

     Since their return to Graham land a little over a fortnight ago, the three of them often sat here in the empty fields at night. They were near their childhood homes, but far enough away not to be disturbed. Their inability to fall asleep with the rest of their clan went far beyond their years of scouting and keeping night watches together.

     For Camron, now he’d returned to Graham land, he was again tortured by Anna, the woman he’d loved for most of his life. Always methodical and stalwart in everything he did, Camron’s one weakness was their childhood friend. Everyone knew of his longing, but Anna seemed incapable of returning that love. In recent weeks, they’d spent some time together, even journeyed to another clan, but given Camron’s grim expression,            Seoc didn’t believe his friend fared well with her.

     As for what kept Hamilton, Camron’s twin brother, awake, that was a bit of mystery and a welcomed distraction. But Seoc surmised Hamilton’s restlessness must have something to do with Camron and the unerring sense something was wrong and must be righted.

     Hamilton was constantly meddling. If he wasn’t pulling pranks, he was trying to repair the consequences. If he was up to another scheme, one that especially dealt with his brother, Hamilton was likely to make matters worse before it could be righted.

     But then there was also the fact that for the last few weeks, Hamilton had been spending time with their friend Beileag. Seoc wondered, not for the first time, what was happening between them.

     As for himself, well, he’d rather not reflect on what kept him awake at night. He’d rather seek distractions, not obsess over  those times he, too, wanted a wife and children. This past year, he hadn’t been without comfort, a few women, a few hours here and there, but he could never be as fortunate as his friends to find someone to spend the rest of his life with. What woman would stay at his side long enough to ease the terrors plaguing his dreams?

     Seoc swung his gaze to his friends. They’d been talking while his thoughts wandered. ‘What was that again?’

He caught Hamilton’s eyes sliding to his brother’s before his friend answered, ‘Last I said was that the fire felt good.’

     Did it? Seoc stared at the fire and grunted. He didn’t think anything would warm him again. At least the night was crisp, clear, and the sky was lit by uncountable stars. It wasn’t raining and he had some distraction because his friends were near.

     ‘What feels good is not drinking your mead.’ Camron stretched his feet.

     ‘Nothing’s wrong with my mead,’ Seoc argued out of habit. He’d been working with different herbs and spices for his metheglins, or spiced meads, most of his life. In his opinion, he’d perfected metheglins in all their many forms. As long as no one interrupted his methods or stole any of the herbs he needed. Or worse, pulled a bung and ruined the months-long process of a good fermentation, then all was good.

     What his friends forgot, though, or maybe flirted with, was the indisputable fact he brewed his mead strong. Though it irked him he couldn’t get it stronger. If he had time, or the strength of interest like he used to, he knew he could make it better. There was something he was missing.           But then, for over a year, he’d been missing much.

     ‘Nothing wrong with Seoc’s mead, as long as you don’t drink that much,’ Hamilton said. ‘And let’s not forget drinking such quantities was your choice, dear Brother.’

     Camron groaned, Hamilton snorted and Seoc forced a chuckle.

     Which pulled at his ragged scar on his chest. Would the ache, the reminder, never end? It was bad enough he’d been carved clear across his body at the Battle of Dunbar a year ago. He’d fallen before he could save Sir Patrick of Clan Graham. Their Laird was the only Scotsman to die that bitter day and it had been Seoc’s duty to watch his back.

     And he’d failed. He deserved to be carved in two. He deserved to have died at his Laird’s feet. What he hadn’t deserved was for these two brothers to have rolled him on to some sort of stretcher and drag him the miles to Ettrick Forest.

     Each bump and rock across those cursed fields had felt like knives drawing him closer to death and he’d welcomed every one of them. He had wanted to die, but Hamilton and Camron had brought him to safety and denied him an honourable death, or at least one he deserved. For the rest, his brutish body, built like a mountain and just as strong, pulled through the rest. His scar, though visible from any distance, was healed.

     What he was left with, however, was an empty husk inside. It seemed as though his friends knew it, for they constantly watched him. As if they feared he’d be split open again.

     Couldn’t they tell there was nothing left inside him to worry on? He eyed the twins. Both of them had gone quietly sober. Were they lost in their darker thoughts like him? Maybe it was his turn to be a distraction.

     ‘So, Camron, when will you tell us what happened on your travels to the Clan Colquhoun with Anna?’ Seoc sat back on his own makeshift bench.

     ‘Not much to tell.’

     Hamilton stretched his hands to the fire and clapped them. ‘I’ve been trying for days to get him to confess.’

     ‘And he’s stayed silent?’ Seoc said.

     Hamilton nodded. ‘A certainty something happened between them.’

     ‘Ah, maybe he had to fight for her hand while she was with those Colquhouns,’ Seoc tried to tease. ‘You know how they are.’

     ‘Persuasive red-haired devils.’ Hamilton turned. ‘So was that it? Did a Colquhoun notice Anna’s beauty, Brother?’

Camron scowled and Seoc felt immediate remorse. Anna was a lass worth fighting for, but Camron was younger than her and a few years ago she’d gone and fallen for a scoundrel. Now, she didn’t seem to have any trust for another man.

     That was his fault. Alan of Clan Maclean was a man he had vouched for. Until Dunbar, him introducing Alan to their clan had been his biggest regret. Not that anyone blamed him, but he’d blamed himself well enough.

     Laughing, Hamilton pointed his thumb. ‘See, this is how my brother’s been. Especially as Anna’s been avoiding him since they returned.’

     ‘You going to ask me whether she’s worth it?’ Camron retorted. ‘Aren’t you going to say I told you so? It’s not as though I wasted years thinking of only her. There were other matters keeping us occupied.’

     ‘Dunbar, Seoc,’ Hamilton said, then rattled off more words that Seoc couldn’t hear from the sudden roaring through his ears. But he did see the look Hamilton shared with his brother again.

     Seoc knew what this was about, but there was nothing to be done for it. Hamilton had blurted the truth out, that’s all. He might have returned to Graham land after April a year ago, but for months he was plagued with fever and constantly on the cusp of death. It’d taken a year for him to be as well as he was. Through it all, the twins had stayed at his side and, when he could scout again, they’d watched him all the more closely.               Probably because of his nightmares. Fortunately, they didn’t talk of it; he didn’t think he could even if they asked.

     As Hamilton kept conversing with his brother, Seoc tried to keep his expression neutral, knew he failed, so he turned his gaze to the open fields. It was the darkest part of night and their fire ruined any chance for him to see the more subtle shadows in the fields.

     He liked staring off into the various shades of grey and black. It helped him not to think of the disfigurement across his chest or the deadness inside him.

     He knew he wasn’t the only one plagued with dark thoughts. All Scotsmen had had to flee the English that day at Castle Dunbar. The battle was hard enough when they had to flee and losing their Laird, Sir Patrick, was a harsh reminder that, though their hearts were strong, they were still only men. He knew Hamilton and Camron were also plagued with last April[jm4]  and with the decree they were to ride to Stirling in September to face another battle.

     Between then and now was Beltane: a night of celebrating spring and abundance.

     He’d missed it last year because of fevers, maybe he’d skip it again this year. How could he celebrate when all he thought about was battle, death, pain, loss? Yanking himself from those thoughts, he turned again to his friends. Camron’s expression was full of loathing and Hamilton’s with worry.

     ‘I stopped questioning your feelings for her years ago,’ Hamilton said. ‘Certainly I teased you about it when you were so obsessed with Anna before our balls had even dropped.’

     ‘Careful,’ Camron growled.

     Hamilton rolled his shoulders. ‘How could I doubt how you felt about her when you saw her happy with Maclean and you stepped back?’

     ‘When we thought she was happy,’ Camron growled.

     ‘Face the truth, Brother, that man did make her happy,’ Hamilton said.

     Ah. They talked of Anna still. Anna, a few years older than them all, had fallen in love and had seemed happy with Alan Maclean. Though he’d felt terrible for Camron, Seoc thought them a good match. Then it was discovered that Alan played with other women’s hearts and bodies. They’d run Alan away, but Camron still struggled to gain her attention. He deserved happiness and so did she.

     ‘I have been occupied teaching her brother to swim.’ Camron pulled his feet in.

     ‘Thinking to gain her heart by befriending her brother?’ Hamilton said. ‘That’s clever.’

Clever, but no doubt the truth. ‘We know you love the boy as much as you love his sister,’ Seoc said. ‘If you could see your expression, as we do, my friend, you would know we don’t need the details to wish you congratulations.’

Camron’s expression eased and Seoc felt something like warmth. Something that made him want to pay attention to his friends. They were there for him—maybe he could try to be there for them and not lose his thoughts to grey shadows and darkness.

     ‘I wager he hasn’t kissed her yet,’ Hamilton remarked. ‘There’s too much tension in him.’

     He could do with more laughter. ‘Agreed.’

     Camron rubbed his face. ‘Don’t you have any of that mead?’

     Seoc raised a brow. ‘Haven’t learnt your lesson? Maybe you should try my new spiced ale. I’ve done—’

     ‘You poisoned us with the last ale you spiced,’ Hamilton interrupted.

     ‘I’ve perfected my recipe,’ Seoc insisted.

     ‘The way you perfected that grass water concoction?’ Hamilton quipped.

     He’d been a child then and his mother had been alive. His mother, knowing her son had already outgrown their little home, had often taken him to the alehouse where she and the other women brewed. He’d learnt much with her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t also experiment.

     ‘You didn’t have to drink that, just as you didn’t have to drink my mead,’ Seoc said.

     Hamilton groaned. ‘It’s been less than a fortnight since we returned here and celebrated and my head still hurts. Why didn’t anyone stop us?’

     ‘I couldn’t get you to stop drinking the grass water either,’ Seoc pointed out.

     ‘That’s because there was a wager made,’ Camron said.

     Hamilton rubbed his stomach in memory. ‘Only made us stronger.’

    ‘You two should stop making wagers.’ Seoc stood, stomped out his large feet and sat again. It helped with the tingles in his legs, but didn’t help with the deadness weighing down his limbs. Would any part of him feel alive again?

     ‘Then where would you get your amusement at our expense?’ Hamilton said.

     ‘True!’ Seoc laughed, felt the pinch in his chest and clenched his teeth against the pain.

     Camron slid his eyes away from him to his brother. ‘How’s Murdag, Hamilton?’

     Hamilton looked away. ‘Better than ever.’

     Since they were little, there was always the six of them. He, Camron and Hamilton, Murdag, Anna’s sister, and Beileag, their friend. When Anna wasn’t doing more adult matters, she joined them.

     It wasn’t unusual for Camron to ask about Murdag, but it was unusual for him to ask Hamilton about her. Maybe here was a distraction worthy of attention. ‘Murdag? Don’t you mean Beileag?’

     ‘Last I knew my brother liked a certain woman with a thin chemise who stood on a boulder the night we first returned,’ Camron said.

     ‘How did I miss Murdag wearing a thin chemise?’ Seoc said, but realised that was missing the point because all he’d seen was Beileag and Hamilton sneaking off to the forest…alone. ‘You have a strange way of wooing Murdag, Hamilton, by hanging around her friend Beileag,’

     Camron’s expression grew perplexed. ‘I agree with Seoc. If you like Murdag, I’d stop hanging around her friend.’

     Hamilton looked flummoxed, as though he hadn’t realised what he had done. Nudging Camron with his shoulder, he answered, ‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll win.’

     ‘Win what?’ Schemes and meddling? Hamilton was up to something, which couldn’t be good, especially with Camron’s darkening expression.

     ‘Brother,’ Camron warned.

     Hamilton tilted his head to Seoc. ‘Ach, come on, he’s got to know some time. He’ll find out when it comes to the happy moment anyway.’

     ‘What did you do now, Hamilton?’ Seoc yawned. Now things were interesting, he was tired? Curse his body.

     ‘It wasn’t me,’ Hamilton said. ‘Odd, I know, but this was, and has always been, Camron’s idea.’

     ‘Now you have to tell me,’ Seoc insisted. ‘Is this another challenge or a jest on someone, and why would your twin, Lord of the Calm and                  Reasonable Manor, suggest something that has you filling with mirth?’

     The twins shared another glance. Did they know they did that often? Side by side on the opposite log, they looked alike until their personalities gave them away. But the one thing they shared was Hamilton getting them into trouble and Camron getting them out. However, there was something else besides a typical joke playing on here. Camron was looking stony and Hamilton somehow pleased, but also wary.

     ‘Not a chance we’re telling you,’ Camron said.

     ‘Not a chance for what?’ Seoc said. ‘Equal frowns on your faces and it’s as though I’ve been hit on the head. I’m seeing double and seeing double of you doesn’t do it for me.’

     ‘Seeing double of Una’s treasures likely would,’ Hamilton said, referring to a particularly voluptuous widow in the clan.

     ‘Another truth from you, my friend.’ Seoc forced another laugh, but this one hurt more than most. Una was a fine woman and, though she had no expectations of him, of any of the men she invited to her bed, he knew he wasn’t being as honest with her as he should. Though they’d had relations for years, he feared now he only lay with her for distraction. She didn’t deserve that.

     A year since the battle and this was the kind of man he’d become. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. Stretching his arms over his head, Seoc asked, ‘I’m getting weary. Will you two tell me what’s going on?’

     ‘We made a wager to marry before we leave again in September for Stirling,’ Hamilton said.

     Seoc was glad he was sitting down. The twins made wager all the time and the six of them often participated in them. But marriage was not a game.

     ‘The less bright one with sentences is attempting to marry Murdag and I’m to try to marry Anna.’

     Camron was always trying to wed Anna. Why would he need a wager? And if Hamilton was serious regarding Murdag, why would he spend hours with Beileag? And why, why, why would they make wager when it came to women’s hearts and souls? When had they turned cruel?

     Something of his expression must have registered for Hamilton raised his hands apologetically. ‘It was Camron’s wager. Thus I’ll win this one.’

     ‘When have you ever won a wager from me?’ Camron said.

     Hamilton scoffed. ‘We’d be here all day if I regaled all my winnings, Brother.’

     ‘Are you sure this is not a jest?’ Seoc said, pointing at each of them. ‘Because I’ve had to bear enough of both your jests and your wager all my life.’

     Camron raised a brow. ‘Bear the brunt of our jests?’

     ‘I must have been hit on my head.’ In what world would reasonable Camron escort Anna to Colquhoun land because of a wager? Could it be true they did something so dishonourable and laughed about it? That they both wagered with Murdag and Anna, whom they’d known all their lives, as if they were playthings?

     He’d take any risk for love, to scale any peril to have lasting happiness with someone. If such a woman for him existed, he’d follow her to the ends of the earth. Hell, he’d follow her around if she’d just make him feel anything at all. And these men thought souls and hearts so worthless they could make a game about them.

     ‘Your head’s fine, our friend.’ Hamilton chuckled. ‘This may be the most awe-inspiring wager yet.’

     Seoc felt something then. Rage. Standing to his full height, he glared at Camron. ‘This is true? You offered to travel with Anna, to be alone with her, so you could try to win a wager?’

     Camron nodded.

    Seoc looked at both of them. They’d planned games when his Laird Patrick fell, when the blade that should have felled him failed. When he’d returned all but dead to the world, and wished, begged, prayed he’d feel anything except for nothing during the lonely days and terrors at night. These two played games as if a life filled with love wasn’t precious and easily lost.

     ‘You fools!’ Seoc stormed off.