The bracing air was tinged with a layer of dew and full of morning energy. He couldn’t ease the edge of his nerves if he found a huge carragh and set the rock upon his chest. But need drove him. Need and a pledge to his da. Aidan gripped the hilt of his sword, slipped it from the sheath, and held it aloft. A few practice swings and stabs to make sure he be able to defend himself if the clan wasn’t accepting of his arrival. Stories of the lairdship had been woven into his memories since he was a lad. And now it seemed a nearly impossible feat for one man to breach a keep and demand to be laird. He dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed. What he wouldn’t give for his da to be at his side. Wolf, at sixteen hands, ambled toward him, more like a hound than a horse. Aidan rose and stretched the sleep from his thirty year-old-body, grabbed a piece of jerky from his sporran and bit into the leathery meat. On his pledge, come this evening, he’d have met with the council and strategized just how the lairdship would be transferred to him.
What do You think about Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1)?
