Highlander's Trials of Fire

“What for?” asked the other in a very suspicious tone. “We havenae seen ye before.”

Matthew slid his eyes to him. “It isnae a matter I’m goin’ to speak with ye two about. Allow me to see the Laird.”

The two men stiffened at that. They exchanged glances and Matthew stood in silence. He knew they were debating whether it was a good idea to do what he asked of them or not and he hoped he seemed trustworthy enough not to be turned away.

For a moment, he considered telling them the true reason why he wished to see the Laird, knowing they could not possibly turn him away after that but then they lifted their chins, almost in unison and stepped aside, revealing the path through the large doors to him. Matthew nodded a polite thanks and pushed his way through.

The air inside the castle felt different. Or maybe it was he who felt different, knowing how close he was to the b

eginning of his new—and hopefully—final plan. He could not keep his eyes off the impeccable stone walls, the oversized windows, the hanging evidence of the Laird’s fondness of hunting. It was an opulence he had never been able to touch.

One of the guards came with him, slipping in front to lead the way. With the sheer size of the castle, Matthew did not see many others as he was led through the winding hallways. A few servants passed by and only glanced curiously at him before continuing on their way.

The guard trailed to a stop. Matthew, for the first time ever, felt nervous. This is it.

“Laird MacLagain,” the guard called as he knocked. “Ye have a man who wishes to see ye.”

There was silence on the other end of the door before a gruff voice called out, “Send him in.”

The guard looked at Matthew and jerked his head toward the door. Matthew took that as his cue, and he entered the room as the guard stood to the side.

Laird MacLagain was… very large. He seemed almost like a bear, draped in a large pelt that complemented his kilt and the bushy red beard covered half his face. He was stoking a crackling fire upon Matthew’s entrance but turned to look at him, running his gaze from Matthew’s head to his toes. For some reason, Matthew merely stood there and allowed him to do it.

“Who are ye?” the Laird asked after a moment. His voice seemed even deeper than it was from the other side of the door. “What do ye want?”

Though he was a part of the MacLagain clan, he was not surprised the Laird did not know him. “Me name is Matthew McDulaigh. I am but a merchant who wishes to speak to ye about a very pressin’ matter regardin’ yer daughter.”

“Me daughter?” Now, he had the Laird’s full attention. Somehow, he seemed even larger, as if he had risen to full height in his protectiveness. Beneath his bushy eyebrows, his eyes narrowed to slits. “What business do ye have with me daughter?”

Matthew steeled himself. He had gone over how to say this many times on his way to the castle, but now that he was standing before the Laird himself, he faltered.

“It is very simple, me Laird,” he began. “I wish to marry her.”

“Marry?” Surprise filled Laird MacLagain’s face.

Matthew forged on, “I ken I’m nae the most proper match for yer daughter, but I have enough wealth to take care of her, so you daenae need to worry. I have heard tales of her beauty across this land, Laird MacLagain. I couldnae do anything else but rush here hopin’ to witness it for meself.”

Matthew considered it a job well done when the Laird’s face filled with pride. That was the way to his approval, it seemed. Showering his daughter with praise.

“Aye, she is quite the beauty that lass is. She gets it from her mother. I never ken her popularity was so big.”

Aye, it is. Though it is not for the reason ye think.

“But of course, Me Laird. I wish to settle down and begin a new family and I hope ye will give me yer blessin’ to be wed to yer daughter.”

Laird MacLagain lifted his head, clearly in thought. He began walking back and forth and Matthew patiently waited for him to reach a conclusion. He knew that had it not been for the rumors surrounding his daughter, he would not have come this far. A merchant was no match for her, despite his proposed wealth, but Matthew was hoping for their desperation to be in his favour.

For a woman who could not be married due to a curse resulting in dead partners, the Laird would surely accept anyone who asked for her hand. Yet as the Laird continued to pace, glancing at Matthew from time to time, he wondered if he might have been mistaken.

Finally, Laird MacLagain paused and said, “Ye seem like a decent man. Strong, too. Can ye hunt?”

Matthew told the truth for once. “I can.”

He received another pleased look from the Laird. “Ye know I love me daughter very much. Ye must make sure to take care of her and make her happy, ye hear?”

“Aye, of course, Laird. I wouldnae dare to hurt her.” Matthew smiled happily, not missing the fact that the Laird failed to mention what had happened to his daughter’s last two betrothed, and he had a feeling he would not be hearing anything about that for now.

“Well, then,” Laird MacLagain said with a loud clap. “Would ye like to meet her?”