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matters.
    For a moment, Grey admired the look
on his da’s face. Grey did bear a resemblance to his da, given he had the same
almost-black hair and cool gray eyes. Many a christening had been delayed
because the priory had a fire when he’d been born. His eyes hadn’t changed by
the time they got around to christening him, and his ma had said she’d chosen
his name because of the color of his eyes.
    One day he would be as strong as his
da, a warrior who could defeat any enemy. His ma remarked how tall he’d gotten
in the last months and that he would soon have muscles to rival his father’s.
He wanted to be as strong as his da.
    “You’ll make the lass piss if ye
don’t cease tickling her,” came from Albrey’s mama, sitting next to his very
own. “Albrey, are ye behaving? You aren’t tormenting poor Grey, are ye?”
    “Oh, nay, Mama, I’ve been good.”
Once her mother turned back to the adults, Albrey set her teeth on a target.
    Grey smiled at his future wife’s
family and didn’t pay her any mind. Albrey was fair-skinned like her ancestors
and certainly not sweet-tempered. Her ancestors, like his, came on massive
boats, bringing their people to a new land. Intent to raid and return to their
homeland, most had stayed on, content to live on the lush lands of Scotland for
all their days.
    His lass didn’t much look like her
mother or father, nor her brother and sister, with their dark hair and brown
eyes. It was whispered the lass bore traits of Mackay ancestors. The Mackay
clan came to Scotland much around the same time the Gunns had—all proud of
their heritage and lineage. Oftentimes, his da would allow the man of God to
read from the tome of when they had first arrived on the land. Grey always envisioned
the men to be mighty warriors who scared off their enemies with clever tactics
and the wit of force.
    He attentively watched her family
mingling with his own. Albrey’s brother, Branford, was quite older and stood
with the other important people attending King William. Her sister, Esmereld,
was to marry the year next and attended with her betrothed, Marvin, one of the
king’s loyal vassals.
    “Ow, lass, ye bit me.” He pulled his
hand away and looked at the teeth marks on his palm. “Why’d ye do that?”
    “’Tis what ye deserves, Grey Gunn.”
She pulled at his tartan, yanking it to take his attention away from the hurt.
“I am sorry, Grey, did I truly hurt ye?” She looked ready to weep.
    “Nay, you could never hurt me, honey
bee.” Grey softened his voice to soothe her. He sat up, bringing himself to his
knees.
    Before he knew what’d happened,
something smacked him in the face. The little heathen threw food at him. He
licked the sweet-tasting cream from his lips and laughed. Even at the lass’
young age, she could make his stomach content. Each time she’d visited him, she
brought gifts. She’d told him it was to tempt him to accept her, or so that’s
what her mama had told her to say. He wasn’t about to turn down a tasty gift,
regardless of the fact that he had no choice but to accept her. Grey had been
taught to do his duty and so he resigned himself that she would be his.
    “What have ye made, Albrey? ‘Tis
tasty … mmm.” He licked the sweet cream from his lips.
    “Mama helped. I made you a sweet
cake. Da brought some powder when he came home and I know ye likes ‘em.”
    “Is that the Gunn brat there with
our lass?”
    Both Albrey and Grey looked up to
see Kenneth MacHeth take the seat next to Albrey’s father at the table which
had been set up near their tent. Grey nodded in greeting as he’d seen his da
do. He felt Albrey pressing against him and he set an arm around her back.
    “All’s well, honey bee. Why are you
afeared?” Whenever she was afraid, she’d try to hide behind him. This wasn’t
the first time she’d done so. He remembered the day when she’d accidentally
tripped the stable master and ran to him for protection, though it wasn’t
needed.