Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (rainbow fish read aloud TXT) 📕

Osk’s face said “aye.” Pastor John did not say anything, being wise enough to read the sudden stillness.

Joshua shrugged and raised his tankard, knowing at least he had planted the seed of a new plan forming in his mind. “To home. Wherever that may be.”

The others raised their cups. “To Orkney,” Osk said.

“To our fallen,” said Calder.

“Aye,” came from the rest of them as they drank heartily.

“May God bless us all,” Pastor John said, lifting his own tankard that he’d set on the ground.

Joshua heard footsteps, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Kára walking up to them, her previous sadness dulled by talking with the ladies. She still wore the gown from the earlier christening. It slid along her full curves, her stays accenting her narrow waist and her lifted breasts. Coming from the shadows with the bright fire before her, she looked like a princess of old, gliding forward with strength, grace, and authority. The men sitting stood as she approached.

“To our queen, Kára Flett,” Calder said, raising his tankard. The others followed, even Osk.

“There is no queen without a throne,” Kára said, a casual smile on her face. “But you may call me chief.”

“To our chief, Kára Flett,” one of the men said, and the rest called it out in unison. Either this was their version of a swearing of loyalty ceremony, or they merely liked to have excuses to raise their cups and drink.

Kára looked to Corey Spence. “We should meet tomorrow to make plans for the upcoming winter.”

Corey nodded, an encouraging smile on his weathered face. “I will inform the council members.”

Calder returned from where he’d fetched a tankard for Kára, handing it to her. Torben walked with him, his usual frown in place when he spotted Joshua. “We were listening to Joshua’s tales of life on Scotia,” Calder said, tipping his head to Joshua. “At his home in Caithness, there is open land and trees and horses.”

Kára’s smile faltered, and her gaze shifted to Joshua. Did she suspect him of trying to win her people away from Orkney? Wasn’t that exactly what he was trying to do? Although, they did start by asking him about his life back there.

“It is quite different there,” she said, staring directly at him. “Rainbows arching over green grasses and bonny buttercups. Trees that are easy to fell and stack on their own into huge houses for all the people. No illness or famine. No wars.” She tilted her head. “Why ever did you even come to Orkney then?”

Osk snorted and Torben laughed outright. “Do you hunt unicorns there in your forests?” he asked, and the other men turned to study Joshua as if suspicious of the picture he’d painted for them. A few chuckled.

“There is certainly illness and war at times,” Pastor John said, his brows lowering. “But there is vast land to grow crops, and the woodlands are full of deer.”

Joshua cleared his throat. “I came to Orkney because I wanted to be of use in helping warriors grow strong to defend themselves and their people. ’Tis my occupation in life.”

Torben crossed his arms, mutiny on his face. “To train people to kill one another?”

Joshua’s gaze slid across the group of men who had gathered. “I was raised around war. I have studied it and know it firsthand. I have seen the misery it causes if it stretches out for a long time. The common people suffer the most as warriors and leaders fight. Famine and disease feed fear and desperation. It is better to make a swift victory and treat the defeated with respect, bringing them into one’s clan.”

Now more than ever before, Joshua understood what his older brother, Cain, was trying to do with the Sutherland and the MacKay Clans back home. Joshua had thought Cain was too lenient on their foes, because he assumed they would rise back up and the war would continue. If he were chief, he would have conquered the rulers of the clans soundly, leaving the people unharmed but too frightened to retaliate. But looking into the determined faces of the defeated here on Orkney, Joshua realized defeating people did not always frighten them into accepting one’s rule over them. Although, Cain Sinclair was nothing like Robert Stuart.

“And if they are not treated with respect?” Calder asked. From his face, he was the only one possibly admitting they were the defeated.

Joshua breathed deeply. “Then they rise up to battle until the last blood of their clan soaks into the soil, or…” Joshua let his gaze move from Calder to Kára. “They move on to new territory.”

“Bloody hell,” Osk murmured and spit.

“You ask us to abandon our land, our home?” Torben asked, his eyes wide with incredulity.

“It is the way of war, the way of the human condition,” Joshua said. “Since the beginning of time, whether ye like it or not. Either the defeated put up with their terrible treatment, or they war against their foe until they die, or they move on to find peace elsewhere. They need to figure out what they want to do as a people.” He slid his gaze from Kára over the others gathered, meeting Corey’s eyes. He was one of the council members. Perhaps he could bring up Joshua’s invitation at the meeting.

“And where would our ancestors roam to try to find us if we were not on Orkney?” Osk asked, his arm flinging out toward the long table that they had set for those who were being remembered.

Calder frowned at him, his arms crossed. “Why don’t you sit with them tonight and ask their opinion?”

“You mock our customs,” Torben accused.

Joshua met his gaze directly. “I mock those who think the dead need a map and compass to find those they love here on earth.”

Kára’s voice was soft. “I see no plate and cup set for your father and mother here on Orkney.” Her eyes met his, but there was no challenge in them. Silence stretched among them all as the fire snapped