Free Highland Sacrifice (Highland Wars Book 2) by Eliza Knight

laird. No guest.”
    Ceana worried that the guard would take Macrath’s animosity toward his brother the wrong way. As it was, blood was thicker than water, and if their new leader didn’t hold any respect or affection for his relation, how could they trust him with clan members he barely knew?
    She watched their interaction with vested interest. Macrath was her husband, her partner in rule and she would protect him from every enemy she could flush out. Instinct bade her believe that this man would be an ally. She felt no sense of warning about his presence.
    “Where is he?” Macrath asked.
    There was a subtle change in the guard. Was her assessment about the guard’s contemplations correct? He kept himself well guarded, and it was hard to tell. “In the great hall, my laird.” A slight shift in the tone of his voice—more respect.
    Macrath nodded. “Good. Do not allow him anywhere else. He cannot be trusted.”
    The guard’s entire demeanor changed at once. He looked relieved. A sense of calm settled over Ceana. She’d only allowed herself to believe they would win this war against the council. She couldn’t let the thought of failure cross her mind or all would be lost. But her fears had ridden her hard, breaking her down, making her doubt that winning was possible. They would win the people over one by one. First with the women they’d helped and now with this guard. A glimmer of hope sparked strongly within her.
    Ceana and Macrath left their chamber, closing the door behind them, while the guard stood watch.
    As they walked past, Ceana felt obliged to say to the guard, “Not everything is always as it seems. There are dark holes in everyone’s past, sir, and you’d do best to keep your judgments for the day the gods allow you to grace them with your everlasting presence.”
    The man’s cheeks colored slightly. “You are wise, my lady.”
    Ceana shrugged. “’Haps. With wisdom comes understanding. I am not bold enough to name myself knowledgeable in most things, but I do identity with people and I can discern one’s thoughts most of the time.”
    The guard’s eyes widened slightly.
    “You will find my princess is clever and intelligent. What is your name?” Macrath asked.
    They reached the stairs, but she stopped when Macrath paused.
    “Marrec of Clan Morrison, my laird.”
    “Are you descended of a past chief?” Macrath asked.
    With pride, Marrec’s straightened his posture. “Aye, my laird.”
    Ceana filed away that bit of information.
    Macrath continued down the stairs, nonchalantly asking, “And have you never joined the games?”
    She glanced back to Marrec to gauge his reaction as they followed.
    The guard shook his head. “Nay, my laird. I’ve no interest in ruling Sìtheil. I but want to see the land and its people protected.”
    “Would that not best be done by ruling?” Ceana goaded.
    Marrec let out a breath that she guessed was supposed to be subtle.
    “I confess to not having the mind for it. I am…a follower,” he answered.
    “You are wise to know your strengths and weaknesses,” Macrath said. “Did you follow your last laird?”
    Again Ceana glanced back to study his expression when he responded.
    “’Twas hard. I did my duties, though I—” He broke off, eyes shifting away.
    “Say your piece, Marrec,” Ceana encouraged.
    “I fear you will question my loyalty, my lady.”
    “Loyalty is proven. We’ve no cause to question it as yet,” Macrath said.
    Marrec sighed a little louder this time. “I would not always follow his orders to the exact wording.”
    Ceana cocked her head with interest, the spark of hope igniting into full flames. “Why?”
    “They were sometimes harsh and cruel.”
    “And you sought to change him?” Macrath asked, pausing on the stairs to confront Marrec.
    Marrec’s gaze shifted from them to the wall and back, he hesitated before answering. “There was no changing him. But I did not always have to carry out his orders exactly as he