“Aye Father, I wilnae let ye down,” Rhys said, but in his heart, there was a gnawing doubt that made him wonder if this was the right thing to do, as Caitlin had done nothing to warrant this treatment, aside from being born with the wrong name.
Rhys had never had these feelings before. All his life he had believed and obeyed his father. In his eyes Malcolm was infallible, and Rhys hung on every word. Malcolm was a hero, so even a sliver of doubt troubled Rhys. He tried to put it out of his mind as he went to get breakfast and prepare for the day’s events, but it wasn’t the easiest task.
Because of tradition, Rhys still wasn’t allowed to spend much time with Caitlin. He looked around the castle, trying to see if he could steal a moment with her as he was curious about what she was like outside of a feast, and with nobody else around. He smiled politely at those he passed. There was an air of tension around the keep, for although nobody wanted a battle to erupt, tensions were high and the two clans did not yet trust each other fully. Rhys often saw suspicious glances being thrown his way, and it was clear that a number of people didn’t like the fact that Caitlin was going to have to marry him. He looked away in smug satisfaction though, enjoying the idea of rubbing people the wrong way. And little did they know that most of them wouldn’t live for very long past the wedding anyway.
The events of the day were a series of games that were held in honor of the betrothed couple. These events consisted of things like axe throwing, sparring, wrestling, racing, a caber toss, and other physical feats that played into the things that Rhys enjoyed most. He eagerly watched from a wooden stand, enjoying the sound of bodies crunching against each other in conflict. Caitlin was sitting in a similar position away from him, and his gaze continually drifted towards her. She too seemed to be intently watching the games. She wasn’t like any other girl he had met. She was soft and pretty like a girl, but she had the interests of a man, and Rhys wasn’t sure how he felt about this, but it certainly meant that he couldn’t get her off his mind.
The warriors of the McClearey clan were strong men, not as strong as those of the Frasier clan of course, but they put on a good display. Rhys tried to put his doubts out of his mind, but it was difficult.
“This is all well and good Bryn, but I think we should add a little extra edge to the proceedings,” Malcolm boomed. He was in a private conversation with his peer in the other clan, but his voice was so loud that everyone could hear what he was saying. “Since it won’t be long until our clans our joined, we should have a wee contest tae pit our men against each other one last time. What dae ye say?”
There were murmurs behind Rhys. All the onlookers seemed pleased with the suggestion, although Bryn looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight in his chair. Rhys could see him racking his mind to try and find a way out of the situation, but he could hardly deny Malcolm’s request when there were so many people clamoring for it.
“Aye, that seems like a fine idea,” he relented, although he looked troubled. Malcolm immediately sent word to fetch men from the camp outside to take part in the games. He leaned forward and clapped his hands together, and glanced towards Rhys. He knew that Malcolm was relishing the chance to win one final battle before the wedding. Rhys rolled his eyes, for he was certain that it would only exacerbate tensions between the two clans, but there was little he could do about it. He sat back and waited for clans to form and take part in the various contests. As it turned out, it wasn’t as one-sided as Malcolm would have hoped. The McClearey clan was agile and quick, and what they lacked in raw power they made up for in accuracy and wit. As each event passed the tension grew, for the clans proved themselves equally matched. As soon as one clan won one event, the other clan won the next.
The competition was fierce as well. The men became so heated they started to bicker amongst themselves and a few brawls broke out—brawls that were swiftly ended by Bryn, who rose and barked out orders for them to stop.
“We are ushering in a new era of peace! Dinnae think that means ye can get away with these fights. Control yerselves! I wilnae hae the wedding besmirched by this behavior!” The accused people slunk away and dipped their heads, grumbling to themselves at Bryn’s harsh words.
Rhys glanced over at Caitlin. When there was a break in the events, he left his chair and walked to the edge of his stand. Caitlin caught his gaze and came to him as well. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair hung in tresses around her heart-shaped face. Her eyes gleamed as she smiled, and a warm feeling made Rhys tingle.
“What dae ye think sae far?” Rhys asked.
“Oh, I think it was a wonderful idea ye da had. A competition makes everything more exciting.”
“Aye, and
