The Magic of Highland Dragons Read Online Free PDF Page A

castle. Why do ye no’ ask for something different if ye doona want venison?”
    Bren scowled at him as if he should know better than to ask such pointless questions. “Ye ken I dinna have time for such trifling things as planning the meals. That is why I have a bloody staff.”
    “Of course no’, my laird.” He pulled out his knife and helped himself to some of the venison, along with a heap of roasted turnips. “Perhaps if ye took a wife, she could see that your meals are to yer liking”, he said, far too casually. “Women love to see to such trifling things, or so I’m told. It’s in their blood, ye ken.” Dirc glanced up warily, quite certain of the reaction he would be getting. And so the low, menacing growl didn’t surprise or frighten him.
    “I dinna want just any wife! Or a wife for the sake of having one. I’ve told ye that, Dirc. In fact, I am perfectly happy with my life just the way it is. Let my brothers marry and produce heirs, I willna do it. Stop speaking to me of such things, or I will have ye chopped up and feed ye to the dogs for their supper! Dinna think I will no’!”
    He spoke in a tone of aggravation and tightly leashed fury, but Dirc had no trouble at all hearing the pain and emptiness just below the surface. They had been through this before, many times. And so he went on, needing everything to be poised at the forefront, ready to fall hard and fast to the destiny he knew was awaiting the Mac Coinnach chief.
    “But ye are the oldest, the strongest! Aye, the most powerful of yer line, perhaps even the most powerful ever!”
    Bren shoved one hand through his thick and wavy hair, a gesture Dirc knew well.
    “Aye, I am powerful. And as ye have also said before, I am dangerous. Too dangerous, Dirc.”
    “Which is why ye need to find yer rightful mate. She will be able to temper…”
    “Shut it Dirc!” Bren glared irritably at the old sorcerer. “I ken ye believe in all that soul mate rubbish, but I dinna, no’ anymore. I looked for her”, he said in a harsh whisper, leaning closer so that no one else would hear. “I looked for a damn long time. She doesna exist, or she would have been here by now.” He turned his attention back to his food, stabbing a piece of meat on his trencher with far more force than was necessary.
    Dirc looked down at his plate, feigning remorse for his words, breaking off a piece of bread and chewing it thoughtfully. No point in angering the laird any further. Things would sort themselves out soon enough. With his help. He smothered a giddy grin behind his hand, hiding the involuntary twitch of his lips with a slight cough. Oh, to be done with all this! It was so close, after years, years! of planning and waiting. Dropping his hand, he heaved a rather dramatic sigh.
    “Aye, my laird, perhaps ye’re right. I had hoped that for the sake of our people she would be found. Perhaps it really ‘tis yer destiny to be alone all yer days, a warrior, a protector of our clan, but never a husband or father. Though I wouldna wish it on ye, had I a choice.”
    Bren’s gaze softened just a little. His eyes held a flicker of deep regret before he carefully masked it behind his customary indomitable expression. “I too had hoped for more, old friend. But some things are never meant to be. We will just have to find another way. One of my brothers, perhaps. Eian, I think, would be much quicker to produce an heir, if he hasna already.”
    “If ye dinna mind my saying so, my laird”, Dirc began in an attempt to lighten the mood before he slipped away, “ye seem a bit ill-tempered today. Might I suggest ye take a lesson for yer brother and indulge in a good tupping this evening after dinner? Ye may well find it improves yer mood. A virile man such as yerself should no’ go so long without.”
    Bren gave him an incredulous look. But then he laughed easily, his anger forgotten for the moment. “Is that yer curative advice to me, sorcerer?”
    “Aye. Will ye do as I