Choosing the Highlander Read Online Free

share with them news from his travels along the coast. His father would be pleased at the support Wilhelm had collected.
    “Forgive my rudeness for not inquiring earlier.” Ruthven interrupted his thoughts. “How fares your mother’s health?”
    Wilhelm snorted before he could stop himself. Ruthven cared about Gormlaith Murray’s health only so far as he hoped to predict when the agreement struck between him and Wilhelm’s father might come to an end.
    Twenty seven years ago, Ruthven had imprisoned Wilhelm’s mother, then a peasant maiden, on false charges. Refusing to win her freedom by marrying the corrupt lord, she had been slated for execution. Upon hearing of this injustice by way of Ruthven’s boasting, Wilhelm’s father had negotiated for her release.
    “‘Have your way, an’ ye earn naught but a moment’s vengeance,’ I told the oily bastard.” His father never missed an opportunity to relate the tale. “‘But give her to me an’ I’ll levy to you a tenth share of all I take in from my tenants for the span of her life. Each year she outlives your executioner’s blade, you’ll profit.’ The greedy blight agreed, and to this day, I gladly send the silver. My lady is worth every pound.”  
    Three days after securing Gormlaith’s release, Wilhelm’s father took her as his bride. Nine months later, Wilhelm had been born.
    “She is hale,” Wilhelm said distractedly; he had just spotted Lord Turstan leaving the keep, leaning heavily on his cane.
    “That is splendid to hear.” Ruthven bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. “Give her my regard when you return home, will you?”
    “If you’ll excuse me—” Wilhelm said and took his leave of Ruthven, his eye on Lord Turstan.
    Terran appeared at his side as he made his way through the gathering.
    “Where have you been?” Wilhelm asked as they picked their way through the growing crowd to the east end of the bailey.
    Terran’s mouth quirked. “Found a way to pass the time in a private nook off the kitchens. Auld Rat-bum might be a blighter, but he employs his share of bonny maids.”
    Wilhelm ground his teeth. “You shame our clan by carrying on wi’ unwed lasses.” Would his cousin never settle down with one woman?
    “They arena all unwed.” His cousin winked, but sobered at Wilhelm’s glare. “ Och, dinna fash. Tonight was merely a bit of fun. No thinking man would risk bringing a bairn into the home of such a foul fellow.”
    Wilhelm grunted.
    The milling guests parted before them the way the earth makes way for the blades of a plow. Wilhelm might be among the lower ranking nobles present, the mere tainistear and heir to a rural barony, but he and Terran stood a full head above the other guests and carried themselves like the warriors they were. Most of the other men gave them a wide berth.
    The wary respect of the other nobles was a double-edged sword. It served him well on the battlefield but proved a challenge when his aim was cultivating political alliances. Some seemed to question whether he could carry a non-violent thought in his head.
    A few paces shy of Lord Turstan, Terran gripped his arm. “Look, cousin.” He pointed at the front of the chapel.
    Wilhelm followed Terran’s gaze. A stake had been erected and slabs of dry wood layered round about. Ruthven’s men raced to pile tinder around a second stake.
    His feet fused to the ground. This was the entertainment Ruthven had planned? Despicable!
    “They mean to burn someone tonight,” Terran said.
    “Two someones.”
    “Enemies of the church, do you suppose, or enemies of Ruthven?”
    Anger was a smoldering flint in his gut as he remembered the fate his mother had nearly suffered. “It doesna matter. If Ruthven’s doing the burning, there is sure to be injustice afoot.” He met Terran’s eyes.
    His cousin looked grim. For all his womanizing, he had a thirst for justice as strong as Wilhelm’s. “Christ never called for a sinner to be burned alive,”