A Sneak Peek into a Brand New Trilogy
No, the Brotherhood of the Border is not at an end. We have plenty of siblings and cousins to follow along the border, but in the meantime, this author needs to mix it up a bit and will be doing that with the launch of a brand new series this summer. It is yet unnamed (ideas welcome) but will be a trilogy and, for the first time, be set completely in Scotland. . . in the Highlands actually.
The idea began with my discover of the Battle of the Clans, a fascinating tale of two warring clans. From there, the idea of one young man escaping a brutal battle only to be captured, and raised, by his enemy as the story opens fifteen years later is the stage of our story. Here’s a sneak (unedited) peek:
Untitled
Chapter one
Chapter 1
Duncraig Castle, Scottish Highlands
“The Duncraig wishes to see you both.”
Niall all but laughed in his clansman’s face. He and his brother Kieran had been training, as they did most days, when their father’s friend found them. Dougal and his father had be raised together, and though most thought the two cousins, they were, in fact, naught but clansmen.
“Wishes?” Kieran asked the question he’d been about to raise. When did their father ever wish for anything? Chief of Clan Duncraig for more than twenty years, he commanded. Demanded. But never ‘wished’ for aught to happen. Including summoning his sons.
Dougal shrugged. “Seemed a kinder message than the one he gave.”
Niall and Kiernan exchanged a glance.
“Go on then,” Niall said, sheathing his claymore as Kiernan did the same. “Give us the message.”
Poor Dougal looked uncomfortable now. But since Niall and Kiernan loved nothing more than making Dougal squirm, for no other reason than he did so much too easily, neither man budged. For his part, known as the ‘rock of Duncraig’ for his apparent lack of emotion, Niall would never reveal his inner thoughts. His brother, however, very well may burst into laughter at any moment.
Niall gave him a look that said, ‘Do not. Let this play out.’
Poor Dougal.
He shifted from one foot to the other. How this man was the same one that saved their father’s life on the battlefield, that was as close to the chief of Clan Duncraig as any man, but was still half-afraid of him almost made Kiernan smile.
Almost.
“He said to come to the keep,” Dougal said, turning as if to walk away from them.
Niall shook his head as his brother began to follow. Kiernan rolled his eyes but stood his ground.
He may be a right bastard. A cold-hearted warrior through and through. A ‘stubborn goat like your father’ according to Niell’s mother. But if he loved one thing besides his family and clan, it was a jest. And this one was too good to pass on. Making Dougal repeat their father’s foul mouthed demand—since there was no doubt that was the reason Dougal hesitated—was nearly as much fun as having his brother yield to him, something that was becoming more and more difficult of late during their training sessions.
“Ah,” Dougal turned back to them. Framed by lush green mountains and the familiar sight of Castle Duncraig on the hill behind him, Dougal made a right-sight. Niell struggled to keep a smile from his face. “You’ll make me say it?”
“Aye,” his brother said, clearly impatient to be on his way. Unlike Niell, his primary concern was always pleasing their father. Mayhap because Niell seemed to do it more naturally, he never actively attempted as much. If his father did not care for his temperament, or mannerisms, or decisions, the chief would let him know. And Niell may or may not change course.
Kiernan? He would do anything for their father’s approval, one he gave freely if not quite as freely as with Neill.
“You know I do nae cuss, lad.”
“I know it well,” Neill said. ‘Twas an oddity that could not be found among any other Duncraig clansman. “But ‘tis the chief’s words, not your own.”
“Aye,” my brother added. “If anything, the Duncraig is liable for giving you such a message knowing your dislike for such language.”
Dougal gave us both such a look.
The man loved us like sons, too. Having none of his own, we only did our duty to treat him as we would family. And in our family, none went a day without a gentle provoking.
“Your father,” Dougal said, likely knowing the chief would not be pleased at the delay, “bid me to fetch my two blethering neds from the training yard.”
“Hmm,” my brother said, “tis not so bad. I’d say he’s spot on describing Niell. Sorry, brother, but you’re more an instigator than any I know.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “But if he meant either of us blethered, ‘tis easily you. Though I will admit, you’ve done less of it today than usual.”
As the two of us continued to trade barbs, Dougal shook his head, made an indistinguishable sound and left us. Finally allowing myself to smile as his back was turned, my brother did the same. Nodding toward Dougal, he began to follow, as I did. We continued all the way up the hill, through the courtyard and into the keep.
It was only when we entered the mostly empty great hall and saw our father’s expression that my brother and I quickly desisted from our antics.
The Duncraig, as he was widely known, was not angry.
He was furious.
Father did not get red in the face over a delay. This had naught to do with us, a fact he confirmed as both Kiernan and I approached him.
“When have you last seen him this angry,” my brother whispered.
I did not answer. Could not, as we were now within earshot of him. But the answer, had I given it, would be have been, ‘Not in a long, long time.’
“MacKinlay.”
‘Twas just one word. But enough to understand at least part of his anger. We feuded with many clans, but none as fiercely as the one that the king of Scotland himself was forced to intervene about some fifteen years ago.
When thirty of our men slaughtered thirty of theirs, effectively ending a decades-long feud. Since the Battle of Black Friars, the word ‘MacKinlay’ was all but banned in these halls.
“What have they done?” Kiernan asked. Even Dougal looked surprised. Clearly he did not know why they’d been fetched. If any of them had, they’d not have wasted time coming to the hall.
“Their cattle was found grazing on our land along the northern border.”
Shite.
Fifteen years. And now this. ‘Twas enough to being another war between our clans, as well every man in this hall knew.
“You will go to their chief and put a stop to it,” he said, though not clarifying which of us would do so.
“Should you not go, as chief?” I asked the obvious question.
Our father’s grimace was his answer. For a moment, Niall thought ‘twould be the only one. But then he ground out. “If I go there, I will kill him. And we will be at war once again.”
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