Read Online Highland Sacrifice (Highland Wars Book 2) by Eliza Knight - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eliza Knight
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strong they were, what they were capable of.
His mind still reeled from the power her comfort provided. And then he was a little disgusted with himself. He needed to be a man. Be a warrior. He breathed in deep and shoved away any pain and fear he’d felt. Courage and pride were weapons he’d sharpened over the years, though they’d taken a bit of abuse.
“We will deceive them,” he said. “They believe us to be weak. They don’t know we are privy to their plans. We have the upper hand.”
Ceana nodded. He approached her from behind, touched the small of her back and massaged gently.
“They are scared of us, love. We’ve had more success in the last week than they ever have.” Macrath peered through the slitted window taking in the tranquil village beyond the walls, the imposing forest. The backdrop of Sìtheil was misleading. A calm scene that hid a foul and shaky past. ’Twas their job to wipe it clean.
“We have to be careful. The councilmen once ruled here as did Beatrice. They had to fight in the games and survive. ’Tis possible they are unnerved by our quick bond with the people,” Ceana said.
“I have no doubt. They were vicious then and vicious now. If the people feel they have a kinder ruler they will cling to us.”
“Or take advantage.” She rubbed her temples. “The council will create factions and lure people against us. Beatrice and her companions are certain to have garnered allies in their time here. More people like Gowp.”
Macrath kneaded the muscles in her tense shoulders and sighed. “We will ferret them out. They will not be that hard to spot. I think we will discourage most with our punishment of Gowp. They’ll not want to suffer the man’s fate. And the rest of the people will know we are sympathetic rulers, but rulers nonetheless.”
Ceana reached up, placed her hands overtop of his and leaned back against him, her head resting against his collarbone.
“Our plan for now will be to tread lightly. To let the council believe we trust them.” Macrath kissed the side of her head. “And when we are not dealing with them, with the vast grievances of our tormented people, we will spend time together—alone. We need an escape, even if only to rest.”
“And can we pretend that we are far from here?” She turned in his arms, the warmth of her body seeping into his. “Please?”
Macrath grinned and kissed her forehead, then her lips. “When I’m with you, I already do.”
There came a commotion from outside. The sound burst through the window and sent Macrath tunneling back into his seemingly permanent rage-filled mood. He gritted his teeth.
He couldn’t quite discern what was being said, but he’d recognize the voice anywhere—his half-brother, Victor.
Ceana stiffened against him, having heard it, too. “Why has he returned?” she asked.
After swearing an oath of loyalty to Macrath and Ceana, his half-brother and stepmother had made haste back to Campbell lands and his father, the Earl of Argyll. He’d not heard from them, nor his father, since. Though he hadn’t expected to hear anything so quickly given it had been less than a week since his victory.
And he’d been perfectly satisfied with that. He did not want to hear from them.
The journey to the games had taken him almost two weeks. There was no way Victor even made it halfway before deciding to return. Why was he here?
His entire life, he’d been shunned by his stepmother and then by his half-brother. Father had tried to bond with Macrath many times. Trained him. Had him working with the clan warriors. But it wasn’t until Macrath had left for the games over a month ago that his father had showed him how proud he was. The earl had given him his sword—a great family heirloom—and that had been approval enough. With the hell his father had gotten from his bitch wife, Macrath didn’t expect to see or hear from his father again. He knew in his heart his father was proud. That he’d expected him to
His mind still reeled from the power her comfort provided. And then he was a little disgusted with himself. He needed to be a man. Be a warrior. He breathed in deep and shoved away any pain and fear he’d felt. Courage and pride were weapons he’d sharpened over the years, though they’d taken a bit of abuse.
“We will deceive them,” he said. “They believe us to be weak. They don’t know we are privy to their plans. We have the upper hand.”
Ceana nodded. He approached her from behind, touched the small of her back and massaged gently.
“They are scared of us, love. We’ve had more success in the last week than they ever have.” Macrath peered through the slitted window taking in the tranquil village beyond the walls, the imposing forest. The backdrop of Sìtheil was misleading. A calm scene that hid a foul and shaky past. ’Twas their job to wipe it clean.
“We have to be careful. The councilmen once ruled here as did Beatrice. They had to fight in the games and survive. ’Tis possible they are unnerved by our quick bond with the people,” Ceana said.
“I have no doubt. They were vicious then and vicious now. If the people feel they have a kinder ruler they will cling to us.”
“Or take advantage.” She rubbed her temples. “The council will create factions and lure people against us. Beatrice and her companions are certain to have garnered allies in their time here. More people like Gowp.”
Macrath kneaded the muscles in her tense shoulders and sighed. “We will ferret them out. They will not be that hard to spot. I think we will discourage most with our punishment of Gowp. They’ll not want to suffer the man’s fate. And the rest of the people will know we are sympathetic rulers, but rulers nonetheless.”
Ceana reached up, placed her hands overtop of his and leaned back against him, her head resting against his collarbone.
“Our plan for now will be to tread lightly. To let the council believe we trust them.” Macrath kissed the side of her head. “And when we are not dealing with them, with the vast grievances of our tormented people, we will spend time together—alone. We need an escape, even if only to rest.”
“And can we pretend that we are far from here?” She turned in his arms, the warmth of her body seeping into his. “Please?”
Macrath grinned and kissed her forehead, then her lips. “When I’m with you, I already do.”
There came a commotion from outside. The sound burst through the window and sent Macrath tunneling back into his seemingly permanent rage-filled mood. He gritted his teeth.
He couldn’t quite discern what was being said, but he’d recognize the voice anywhere—his half-brother, Victor.
Ceana stiffened against him, having heard it, too. “Why has he returned?” she asked.
After swearing an oath of loyalty to Macrath and Ceana, his half-brother and stepmother had made haste back to Campbell lands and his father, the Earl of Argyll. He’d not heard from them, nor his father, since. Though he hadn’t expected to hear anything so quickly given it had been less than a week since his victory.
And he’d been perfectly satisfied with that. He did not want to hear from them.
The journey to the games had taken him almost two weeks. There was no way Victor even made it halfway before deciding to return. Why was he here?
His entire life, he’d been shunned by his stepmother and then by his half-brother. Father had tried to bond with Macrath many times. Trained him. Had him working with the clan warriors. But it wasn’t until Macrath had left for the games over a month ago that his father had showed him how proud he was. The earl had given him his sword—a great family heirloom—and that had been approval enough. With the hell his father had gotten from his bitch wife, Macrath didn’t expect to see or hear from his father again. He knew in his heart his father was proud. That he’d expected him to
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