Highland Chieftain (Book 5)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kendrick yawned widely as he heaved himself from the pallet by the fire of the room his father had commandeered in the MacKay Keep. His father, by right, taking the bed. Some of the higher ranking retainers on other pallets around the room. Stumbling a little as he stood, his head still a little woolly from the celebrating last night. That betrothal talks had finally come to an end and Toren had called for his best stock to be brought from the cellars. No one else had known the reason why, but no highlander would say nay to such. And so they had drunk their fill of the fiery liquid until giddy and light, Kendrick had decided that he had better call it a night. They had planned it so that the announcement of the betrothal would wait until Kendrick had returned from his trade mission. Then at least he could bring a suitable gift for his betrothed in front of the clan, to show his suitability as husband for her.

But at this moment, he did not even feel suitable to be a human let alone anyone's husband. Staggering a little over to the small wash bowl, he managed to splash his face without spilling too much of the chilling water, or making too much of a commotion with the chilling drops dripping down from his chin to his bare chest. Shaking his head a little to clear it of the fogginess that still clung to his brain. He was leaving in two days' time and in that time he had little to actually get to know the real Larena. Over the last few days, with negotiations still in play, they had only managed to speak a few times together. But each time he glimpsed something new within her. Something he doubted anyone else had seen in a long time. As if she had been in hiding and she was finally coming out to play. With him. He could not stop the ridiculous grin which spread across his face as he tried to quietly make his way back to his pallet and prepare his kilt.

He needed to be out and clear headed before Larena. She had managed to catch him off guard in the mornings every day. Though each day she looked a little more tired as if she was not used to getting up quite so early. It made his grin smugly to think that she was possibly doing so to try and impress him. As did the knowledge that each night as they sat at the high table she talked quietly with him, mostly about nothing, but it was nice to know that she was comfortable enough to do so with him. He had even started to tease her a little and to his ultimate joy she had reciprocated to his teasing with that of her own. Whilst he would never be completely rude with her, his teasing had turned a little salacious, to which she had eagerly stepped up and parried him perfectly. Even if she did so innocently, not really knowing what it was that she was leading too. Though he knew he would never take advantage of her, it was just nice to know that she had the same sense of humour that he did, not taking offence at his word but finding the hilarity there that he intended.

Threading his fingers roughly through his hair to try and put into some semblance of control into the shoulder length locks. It was a good thing he could get away with his unruly hair with the leather que he found hidden in his pallets blankets. Pulling his hair back after tucking his shirt into his kilt, he walked out the door as quietly as possible, though he still heard a few grunted complaints at him being up so early after such a drink filled night. Having to take a moment after he had closed the door behind himself to lean upon its cool surface, in order to gather himself with his body still not really ready for him to have left the safe warmth of his pallet.

He needed to clear his head before he could do anything else. So with the dawn only just creeping over the horizon, he headed for the battlements. Walking the parapet, with the cold wind whipping around him, it was not long before the chill seeped into his bones this early in the day, having left his cloak behind, but it was probably for the best. At least the cobwebs were being blown away, for who could stay half-awake in such brisk conditions. Yet as he turned the corner he realised he was not alone, save for the sentries out on duty. Instead he spotted a figure who was entirely too familiar to him, but looked infinitely too alone and sedentary for his liking, looking out over the approaching dawn and the land that it painted with fiery colours of red and orange. Setting the country afire with its glow.