Prologue

Scotland 1242

They murdered them all right in front of her. First, they raped her mother and made her father watch helpless, and then they raped her. The bloody savages then massacred her father, mother, and brother in front of her eyes. Then they raped her again and left her for dead.

Rhiannon MacKinnon didn't know how she managed to get out of the burning keep of her beloved home, nor did she remember how she made it to the MacAllister border. All she could remember was an angel. He was tall with dark hair and light shimmered around him. She remembered muttering praise to God, thanking him for sending her this blessing and then she fell asleep.

When she woke, her angel was gone and a woman was sitting by her side doing needlework, heavy with child. There was a fire burning in grate at the end of the room. "Who are you?" Rhiannon asked in a coarse voice. The woman looked up at her startled, with a little sadness in her eyes.

"I'm Lady MacAllister, but you may call me Brenna," she answered in a low whisper. Rhiannon closed her eyes relieved that she had made it to her destination. "Are you in much pain?"

"They….they…raped me," she whispered, tears swelling in her eyes. Brenna stood and sat on the bed next her and took hold on Rhiannon's hand. The child looked so small in the bed she was laying in. Her bruises were black against the stark contrast of the white linen sheets she laid against. The left side of Rhiannon's face was unrecognizable and her eye was swollen shut. There was a gash above her right eye that Brenna had to stitch together, but she knew it was going to leave a slight scar.

"It's over now. They will never touch you like that again. My husband will see that this injustice is taken care of."

Rhiannon closed her eyes. I know. Because I will make them pay. "I wish to speak with your husband."

Brenna nodded. "Yes, of course. As soon as you're well."

"No. As soon as he can afford the time," Rhiannon said with forced behind her voice. "It cannot wait."

Brenna stood and bowed. "I do not recommend it, but I will do as you wish." Brenna walked the across the room and opened the heavy oak door. "How old are you, child?"

Rhiannon looked into the fire. "I'm not but 13 summers," was the reply.

Brenna lowered her head as she left the room. A horrible injustice was done here, but she would give the child a home and make her feel loved and safe again. She had to see that this terrible wrong was made right again. 13 years old. Just a child.

Connor MacAllister scared a lot of people especially children, but this girl was not frightened. When he entered her room she was sitting in a chair beside her bed. Her hands folded in her lap. She was badly beaten and the bruises had hidden her true face. She looked up at him with her emerald eyes as he entered her chamber.

"Are you Laird MacAllister?" she asked. The child from this girl was gone.

"Aye, lass I am," Conner replied to her question. He feared to approach her for she looked so weak and feeble. She sighed in relief.

"I thank you my laird for seeing to me. I do not mean to burden you, but it was the only place I thought of that might help me."

"You are no burden to me. I knew your father well and he was a good man. It is a great insult happened to him and I will see to it that he is avenged for you. Did you get a good look at the men who did this to you?" he asked.

Rhiannon bowed her head as if in shame. "Aye, of course I did my laird. I know what clan is responsible."

"Give me the name and I will take care of this injustice for you."

"Nay," she whispered. Connor looked at her in surprise.

"You do not have to be ashamed, lass. This is not your fault."

"I'm not ashamed, my laird. What those men did to my family and me is unforgivable and I want the entire clan gone. All they wanted was our autumn's harvest we saved for winter; instead they raped my mother and me. Then they killed her, my father, and my brother. They had a second go at me and then left me for dead, my laird. I am here to ask for your help, but there is a certain request I had in mind." Rhiannon looked up at Conner, hate and fire burned in her eyes. Revenge was what she wanted. He knew it when he saw it. He carried it with him for so long himself.

"What exactly is your request, lass?" Conner asked.

"Teach me to fight as you do, my laird. Train me as you would train one of your soldiers," she said. Conner looked at her with disbelief.

"You know not what you ask."

Rhiannon managed to stand up. She kept one hand on the armrest to steady herself first, before standing without any help. "Aye, my laird, but I do. Tis' brutal work, not meant for a woman, but I am no longer a woman, my laird. That title was stripped from me when those men bound me and took the only thing I had to call me a woman. This is the only thing I will ever request of you. Please do not deny me, Laird Connor MacAllister. I will not fail."

She had gotten down her knees to beg him. He looked down at her. "I will not show you any leniency if this what you choose. Once you start you cannot turn back. Do you understand?"

"Aye. Thank you, my laird," she breathed. "Thank you."