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WING / BODY / WING

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Jake Kennedy

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“Albert slid quietly from his horse and walked across a small clearing, and before Graeme knew what was happening, picked him up and threw him arse over toes into the cool water. As the very stunned — and soon Albert would realize, quite angry — Graeme got his bearings and stood up, coughing and sputtering, Albert turned back to his horse. At that point, a swarthy looking man, wearing a ridiculous looking tunic and an even more ridiculous pair of trews, jumped from behind two large boulders with his weapon drawn. “Prepare to die, peasant,” he shouted in French. Albert raised a curious brow as he unsheathed his broadsword. The falchion the Frenchman had pointed at him was no match for his broadsword. “Who the bloody hell are ye?” “I am Remi Francois Claremont LeFavre,” Remi answered with a slight bow and flourish. “Brother to the man you just threw into the lake and whose honor you have besmirched by your actions. Again, peasant, I tell you to prepare to die.” Albert rolled his eyes and re-sheathed his sword. “Is this fool with ye?” Albert asked Graeme.”

AlbertGraemeRemi
Book:Isle of the Blessed
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“I will no’ be tellin’ ye ‘I told ye so’, but I will be usin’ words to that effect.” Marcum said as he sat behind the table in his study. “I was right, aye?” Graeme knew any attempt to deny that everyone else had been right would seem ludicrous. Instead, he paced around his father’s study, his mind sprinting from one thought to another. “As was yer mum,” Marcum said as he poured himself a cup of fine whisky. “And yer brothers. They were right as well.” Graeme stopped pacing long enough to glare at his father. The man sat tall and proud in his chair, a look of deep satisfaction etched on his face. “Are ye quite done?” Marcum laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh that made his belly and shoulders shake. “Well, the cook, stable master, and blacksmith knew it as well.” Graeme let out a long heavy breath. “Aye, everyone on God’s earth knew but me.” “Aye, ye have the way of it, son.”

Father And SonGraemeI Told You SoMarcum
Book:Isle of the Blessed
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“Irline crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him, her curiosity quite evident. “A boon?” “Aye, just one boon.” “Tell me what boon it be that ye seek. I’ll no’ say aye or nay until I hear it.” He was quite thankful that she was at least willing to listen. “Let me have just a few moments with Joie, alone, without all the women around.” “Are ye daft?” she asked with a most serious tone. “Aye, I fear so,” he said as he offered her a warm smile. “All I ask is fer a few moments alone with her. I’ll even keep the door open and ye can watch to make certain I do no’ do anythin’ either one of us would be ashamed of.” Irline studied him closely for several long moments, sizing him up, looking for any hint of insincerity or deceit. Finally, she gave a curt nod of her head. “Verra well,” she said. Graeme was so overcome with relief that he scooped her up and hugged her. “Put me down, now, Graeme MacAulay!” she said as she smacked the back of his head. He was still smiling when he carefully set her back on her feet. “Thank ye, Irline, from the bottom of me heart.” “Do no’ thank me yet, Graeme. If yer mum finds out, I’ll lie and tell her ye held us all at sword point.” “’ Tis a risk I be willin’ to take,” he said.”

GraemeBoonsIrlineTrying To See Joie
Book:Isle of the Blessed
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