“You can count on it, wife,” Arran said and went to the door. “Come, we need to see what message has been sent from your clan.” He left the room, not waiting for her, not trusting himself to wait for fear he’d surrender to his own aching need.
He forced other thoughts on himself as he hurried down the stairs, his wife keeping step behind him. By the time he reached the Great Hall, he had his arousal almost under control and when his brother introduced the man at the table, he let his annoyance take rein.
“Arran, this is Freen from the Clan Macara,” Royden said.
Arran recalled the name his brother had once mentioned to him. Freen was one of Wolf’s warriors he had been left behind as he had done with Penn here at the Clan MacKinnon. Freen appeared a man of good height and sturdy build. His full beard, trimmed neatly, was slightly lighter in color than his long, light brown hair that was braided on either side of his head. The few small scars on his face didn’t mar his good features, though spoke of a man well versed with battle.
“Sir,” Freen said with a respectful nod.
Before he could say more, frantic barking was heard just before Princess bounded into the Great Hall with King leading the way while Quiver trailed behind them. They both hurried to Purity.
Quiver stopped out of breath a few feet from her. “For some reason they got upset and rushed to the keep.”
Arran almost shook his head. He’d been so obsessed with his wife this morning that he had failed to notice the animals’ absence.
“They’re agitated. Something is wrong,” Purity said, watching them pace around her.
Arran might not know the two animals as well as Purity did, but he’d come to pay attention to their alerts. He turned an angry glare on Freen. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Freen didn’t hesitate to explain. “Wolf will not wait to see what Brynjar will do. He’s sent warriors to guard the clans. They arrive in the area soon.”
“And we are to trust his word that this is to defend against Brynjar and not an attempt to take over our clans once again?” Royden demanded.
“Arran and Purity’s marriage settled the last of the clan issues,” Freen said. “Wolf has no wont for any more battles.”
“As long as we are loyal to him,” Arran clarified.
“In numbers there is strength and in loyalty those numbers increase until they become a force too great to conquer,” Freen said.
Anger stirred in the pit of Arran’s stomach. “You are warning us that we are better off being a part of that force than against it?”
“Wise men not only make wise choices, they make necessary ones,” Freen said.
Princess let loose with a howl just before the bell tolled alerting the clan to unexpected arrivals.
Arran turned to his brother. “I need to get to the Clan Macara.”
Royden nodded. “Agreed. Keep me abreast of what goes on and I will do the same.”
Royden hurried out of the keep and Arran went to his wife. “Eat something while I see to readying everything for departure.”
“I don’t think my stomach could tolerate anything right now,” she admitted, the thoughts of Wolf’s warriors being in the area leaving her worried of what might come.
Arran understood, his own appetite having disappeared. “Then gather what you think you may need and be ready to leave within the hour.” He looked to Quiver. “You will stay with Purity at all times.”
Quiver gave a sharp nod. “Aye, sir.”
Arran looked from King to Princess, both sitting to either side of Purity. “Guard her well, my friends.” He leaned down and kissed his wife’s cheek. “Do as I say. Don’t make me worry.”
She rested her hand on his chest, needing to touch him, and smiled softly. “You have my word.”
He turned and walked off and he felt the slight lift of his lips when she called out for all to hear.
“I love you, husband.”
It was like the words caught at his heart and wrapped around it in a loving hug and at that moment he felt grateful that Purity was his wife.
Purity was still teary-eyed as the MacKinnon keep faded behind them. She was glad Arran claimed Hope fit enough for them both to ride her. It made their departure, snug in his arms, a bit easier.
“You’ll be able to visit with Oria and Wren as soon as this matter with Brynjar is settled,” Arran said, intending to keep his wife close and protected.
“I know, but our departure was a bit more difficult than I had thought it would be. It was nice to have Oria and Wren to talk with again, but sad that it was for such a short time.”
Arran agreed, though he kept the thought to himself. He had not expected sadness to overcome him when he bid his da and brother good-bye. It wasn’t like he was going far, the Clan Macara only a short ride away. Or maybe it was that he had actually felt something, a familiar tug that had caught him unaware.