Page 74 of A Fearless Rebel

Ava pointed toward the great room. “If I must show ye how to sweep in front of the laird, I will do it.” She grabbed a broom and stalked forward.

The maids looked to each other as if trying to decide what to do, but then hurried in front of her as she did not hesitate.

Once in the great room, Ava held the broom in both hands and swept sideways. “This is how ye sweep,” she said loudly. “Make piles, which ye will then put in buckets and carry out to lay onto the garden.”

She met each maid’s glare. “I will watch ye to ensure ye know how to sweep. If ye do not, then we can see about replacing ye.”

“Ye cannot,” one replied. “My family has worked for the laird for generations.”

“A generation can be skipped,” Ava replied.

The maids began sweeping while Ava stood by.

She looked over to Keithen and the corners of his lips twitched. Ava pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

Chapter Twenty-One

Keithen missed being outdoors and riding his horse. Although it had been three weeks since his return from capture, he was still having a hard time maneuvering. It was most cumbersome to have a broken leg. Thankfully, he was mobile, albeit with help most times.

Upon seeing him standing outside the corral, Gallant neared and nudged his shoulder, expecting a treat. Keithen pulled a sweet turnip from his pocket, gave it to his steed and watched the animal eat.

“Ye will not be able to ride for a long while yet,” Ewan told him as the archer approached.

Keithen nodded. “I do not like not doing my duties. There is always much to be done before winter sets in.”

“My men have been given new tasks.” Ewan looked over his shoulder. “There are rumblings that the new Laird Mackenzie is as bad as the last when it comes to ambition and seeking power over smaller clans.”

“Aye, I have heard,” Keithen replied. “It must be in their blood, the lust for overtaking and destruction.”

Just then, Broden and his team rode through the gates. One of the guardsmen was slumped over, being held up by another man.

Keithen and Ewan hurried closer.

“What happened?” Keithen asked as the injured man was lowered from the horse.

Broden turned to another man. “Fetch the healer. Hurry!” He then looked to Keithen. “Someone shot at us. We were lucky to have an archer with us, who shot back at the trees so we could escape. I can only assume he was a Mackenzie since we were close to their lands when it happened.”

“That makes little sense. Why would they provoke us?” Keithen shook his. “Perhaps someone is angry about the laird’s death and blames us for it.”

“There is no way to know,” Broden said and hurried to where the injured man was taken.

Annoyed at the injury, Keithen remained in the courtyard. Whoever had attacked the patrol could have been hunting for him. After all, he usually went with that group. Perhaps the Mackenzies were not aware of his broken leg and assumed he was back to his regular duties.

From the doorway, his father motioned for him to come inside. Keithen knew they’d be discussing the same thing he’d been thinking.

They would never be friends with the Mackenzie, but perhaps it was time for them to meet and find out exactly where they stood.

“We will send a messenger to the new laird,” Laird Fraser said. “We’ll ask for a meeting before winter sets in.”

“I wish to go,” Keithen said. “I should be there.”

His father shook his head. “And remind them that because of yer rescue the last laird was killed? It makes little sense.”

Keithen clamped down his teeth to keep from cursing.

“We should bring a show of force to this meeting, which I believe should be held where the lands meet,” a councilman stated.

Broden blew out a breath. “I wonder how large the Mackenzie’s army is now. He lost many men when his allies broke away.”