Free The Raven's Wish by Susan King Page A

forcing the lads. They will sign when they trust you."
    Duncan groaned. "A lawyer who acted like a wild Scot would better gain their signatures, I think," he grumbled, stirring his porridge.
    "Do that, then."
    Duncan slid him a wry look and tasted the thick cooked oats. Hot, but hearty and good. He ate a few mouthfuls and considered Alasdair's words.
    "You are a Highland man," Alasdair said. "They trust their own kind. You come from a clan that has fought MacDonalds for longer than the Frasers have done. Macrae is not just the name you bear, it is your legacy as well."
    Duncan ate another mouthful. "You may have a point."
    "You take a challenge well, Duncan, and always did. Here is one for you. See these lads on their own ground. Hunt with them, or fish with them—"
    "Or raid with them." Duncan smiled. The idea taking shape in his mind had a pleasing irony. "They are a bit inept at the raiding, from what I saw."
    Alasdair lifted a shaggy brow. "You would know a poor raid if you saw one."
    "I would."
    "And you might know the way to improve the raids."
    "I might."
    "Until the bond is signed, the raids will continue."
    "They will," Duncan agreed. "So if they will ride out, they may as well do it proper."
    Alasdair grinned. "I pity the MacDonalds by the time this bond is signed."
    "A displeased MacDonald has never kept me awake at night. I do not wish to see the Fraser lads killed trying to take the cattle by their own unique methods."
    Alasdair laughed as he poured ale into both cups. "The law and the Lowlands have not made you stale all through just yet. That wild Macrae is still in there."
    "Only enough to light a fire under the Frasers so they will sign that cursed document."
    "You will get your bond made, and amuse yourself a bit in the process. Your own father could not have thought up a better scheme."
    Duncan glanced away. "He would have enjoyed this scheme. He was a good man."
    "He was that. Well," Alasdair said. "I must leave within the hour—and I will ask you once again to come to Dulsie Castle when you finish here."
    Duncan shook his head. "Give my grandmother and my sisters my greetings."
    "No other message?"
    A muscle jumped in Duncan's cheek. "None other."
    * * *
    Climbing into the hills that rose behind the castle, Elspeth turned to whistle softly to the leggy lamb that cantered behind her. She laughed as the lamb bleated, as if asking her to wait.
    Her own stride was quick and strong, though she moved carefully through deep grasses and over rocks slippery with mist. Her leather brogues were protection enough from the wet ground, though she had not pulled on woolen stockings or full trews. Even for a damp day in late summer, the moderate weather required no extra layers beneath her plaid.
    She sang as she walked, her clear voice and steady steps creating a pleasing rhythm. Clearing the last hill, she descended toward the moor, hastening her stride now, aware that Bethoc was expecting her. For several years, Elspeth had gone nearly each week to Bethoc MacGruer's home, only missing a visit when severe weather prevented travel.
    To her right lay the long loch, like a shard of a dark mirror reflecting the hills and sky. The lamb scampered ahead, its fleece only a shade or two lighter than its dark face. Elspeth and Flora had scrubbed the lamb's soft pelt with soft wet cloths and even a bit of precious Flemish soap, but the peat had stained the lamb's fleece to a muted gray-brown.
    "Bog-beast indeed," she said, thinking again of that ride home from the raid, leaning secure and warm against Duncan Macrae. She had fallen asleep as they rode, and he had held her in his arms, the feeling so pleasant—and she even let him carry her into the castle.
    She had seen him in the hall the next day with his hair still wet from a bath, dark as raven's wings, his freshly-shaved face lean and handsome. He had handed over to her, silently and discreetly, the little sgian dhu that she had lost in his bed. When she had blushed, he