"The women are highly concerned Arthur." Dagonet murmured from his spot at the Round Table.
Lancelot swirled the mead in his goblet. "The Lady Neely is practically inconsolable."
Arthur sighed in frustration. "I know these things, but there is not that I can do. We can not hide these women away from the world. Eventually there will be mention of them as MacGregor's people move about the village. Better that they make their stand this first night. There is nothing that will harm them while we watch."
"These women…these girls…" Gawain seemed to ponder his words before speaking. "They are fierce warriors. Strong in spirit and determination, but the fear that burns within their hearts overwhelms them."
All of the men were silent for several moments as they contemplated these words. Finally, Arthur stood. "Come we have guests arriving. We must make them welcome." His face was grim as he moved towards the doors.
The MacGregors had arrived and were making themselves comfortable in the large dining hall of the Castle of Camelot. Bronwen's nerves were on fire and her belly felt as if she'd swallowed solid iron. Instead of wearing the soft ladies clothing they'd been in since arriving, the women had once again donned their leather armor. Their father had trained them to fight since they'd learned to walk. Not one of the women had doubts in their abilities, but they'd lost much, and it tore at their self belief. The armor they now wore gave them an added confidence. Kerri was the only one of the sisters not attending the dinner that evening. There had been shouts and tears, and it had wounded Bronwen's heart to see her sister so upset, but not for anything would she take a chance of something happening to her youngest charge.
Bronwen squared her shoulders and prepared to enter the hall.
Arthur's men sat to his left and MacGregor and his advisors were to his right. If MacGregor had noticed the empty seats interspersed between Arthur and his men he'd said nothing. So far the man had been polite, but the tone held an unmistakable edge. The man was waiting for something to happen. Arthur had the feeling that if something did happen the man wouldn't be unhappy about it. No, Niall MacGregor was a man who lived for conflict.
The man's second, obviously a son or close relative by the looks of him leaned into MacGregor and murmured something. "So tell me King Arthur, are we expecting more company?"
Arthur was about to answer when, almost as if on cue, the large double doors to the dining hall creaked open and Bronwen and her sisters strode forward. Murmurings and shock could be heard among the MacGregor clan almost immediately. The sound of weapons being drawn was unmistakable, and Niall MacGregor looked as if he'd seen a ghost. At first his face was slack but then it turned quite grim.
The women moved forward lithely and gracefully. No sound came of their movements and their heads were held high.
"What is the meaning of this?" MacGregor practically spit.
"Yer highness." Bronwen spoke in her clear, lilting voice. "Forgive us our tardiness."
"Easily forgiven Lady Bronwen, please take your seats." Arthur instructed. Finally, he turned towards MacGregor who's eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits.
"This is what ye meant by 'in a manner of speaking.' This riff raff." The older man muttered.
Arthur's eyes hardened. "I would suggest you not insult any guests at this table. I am quite aware of the disagreements or feud between your clan and theirs. This is not something we shall be addressing this evening."
"You might want to watch how you speak to me." MacGregor growled. "King ye might be, but ye know not the ways of our people; the people of the North, and ye're still young compared. These ladies," he said the word scathingly, "are nothing more than cattle that should ha' been claimed months ago."
Lancelot sank back into his chair for all of the appearance of a man at ease, only his friends knew this to be untrue. "These ladies are our honored guests. They are the guests of King Arthur Pendragon. As are you. Perhaps that is something you should keep close in mind."
"Forgive my father for any unpleasantness." The man just to MacGregor's right murmured civilly. "This appearance is quite a shock. Until she strode in we believed Bronwen and her sisters to be dead."
Bronwen leaned forward and took a sip of her honeyed wine. "I suppose when someone is left in a field after being gutted the sight of them walking would be quite startling."
The man's hands tightened on his mug and his eyes glittered angrily. "The hardships you've endured must have been horrifying. It's quite the luck then that you all survived. You'll be able to return with us when we take our leave."
"Oh, I don't think we'll be returning to the North for some time." Bronwen told him with a sardonic smile. "My sisters and I are enjoying our stay here in this new Briton."
"And you are all welcome here as long as you wish my lady." Arthur said with some chivalry.
"Do not use the King's ignorance of our ways against him Bronwen of no clan." The man said tightly.
Arthur looked at the other man with some amusement, but Bronwen spoke first. "The King has no ignorance in this matter Doyle MacGregor. But we've bended our knee and sworn our fealty to him and him alone. You said it yourself. We are of no clan. We do not have to join yours, or petition the McDonnells for the right to merge with them. We are free to roam wherever the wind takes us."
"Yer father promised ye to me." The MacGregor snapped out.
"Nay, me father would ne'er ha' done any such thing." Neely hissed.
"Yer lies will na get ye far here MacGregor." Brigid's calm voice stated. "Not one of the daughters of the former clan McCree will be fillin' yer bed."
"From what we've heard, dear little Caity likes the feel of a man in the dirt, not a bed." One of the men snickered.
Caitlyn let out a gasp, and Tristan stood with his hand on his weapon. "I believe the King made it clear these are Ladies."
Before he could say more MacGregor stood. "Forgive Anulf, he's a bit slow witted." The man said abruptly. "We'll take our leave for the evening. Perhaps tomorrow we'll all have clearer heads."
"Can ye believe the nerve of the man?" Bronwen fumed as she paced back and forth in the chambers she'd been occupying during her stay. She stopped and faced Arthur who leaned quietly against the wall near the balcony. "I'll na be joined with him or any of his evil brood." Her face was set in stubborn lines.
Just that moment, staring into her face, feeling the anxiety reverberating off of her slender body, Arthur knew he was in trouble. This girl; this strong, stubborn, determined girl, had managed to slip past his defenses. She'd managed to bring up feelings within him that he'd thought were dead and buried with his Guinevere. Just the thought of the man, MacGregor, trying to claim her brought a savagery up within him that he'd never experienced. Arthur strode to Bronwen's still form and he reached out and grasped her shoulders. She looked up at him with widened eyes. He'd surprised her. At first he saw fear, and shock, but then as he continued to gaze down at her he saw an answering need. Arthur lowered his mouth and claimed hers.