So consumed and distracted was she, by her thoughts of Eskine, Grisell forgot to enter her cottage through the back door. She was surprised to see Gadd waiting outside her door.

'Uncle Gadd?' She questioned wearily.

'Your security guards said you went to bed. I knocked there was no answer,' he said with concern. 'I sent a maid to check on you. She said your bed's not been slept in.'

'I had a headache.'
Which was gone now.
'I went for a walk,'
and had supper with the very handsome Chief of the DeMartino.

'You look ___ different,' he observed.

She swallowed nervously. "Different?"

'Your hair's untied and your eyes have a sparkle.'

'The night air must have done the trick,' she smiled, and I always sleep with my hair untied. She didn't want to offer any reasons as to why her eyes were sparkling.
'Why were you looking for me?'

'There are some livestock missing,' his eyes became grave. 'Udny suspects DeMartino is making trouble again.'

Grisell went cold. Her heart stopped for a few seconds. 'My father will blame DeMartino even when there is unseasonal rain or if the sun does not appear from behind fleecy clouds.'

Gad smiled. 'You're a fiery one today, aren't you? Fact is, cattle are missing and it needs investigating.'

'I feel that headache coming on again,' Grisell eased her fingers over her temple. 'Let's discuss this first thing in the morning,' she announced, opening her door. 'Good night uncle.'

'Your branded livestock would be difficult to hide and easy to identify. Would you like some of my men to escort you through to my ranch? You could be busy for eight days.'
He stood there majestically tall, broad shoulders standing ramrod straight, his arms folded across his chest, sturdy, boot clad feet slightly apart.
He knew his men could never have entered the Dalmahoy premises without his authority, because he had expressly forbid it.
And none of his subjects would dare disobey his direct command. Nobody took that chance against him. What he expressly decreed was followed to the letter.

Eskine wasn't being arrogant, he did have that much livestock. It was ridiculous to accuse him of theft. He had thousands more than they did. Although Grisell had to admit, she did find a thread of logic in her father's and uncle's suspicions, though there was categorically no suspicion whatsoever in her mind that Eskine would ever wilfully cause any disrepute to the Dalmahoy tribe and to her by extension, or would he? So for the sake of her sanity and to alleviate any doubt of her loyalty to her clan, she had consented to the meet.

She felt the slow assessing sweep of his gaze. Twin spots of colour on her cheek clashed with the iron will she was projecting. She fought hard to break the connection. The slow burn of his gaze was hypnotic. She hissed ___ with indomitable force.

'Our guards on boundary duty, witnessed two of your men inside our territory,' Gadd's voice thundered in the air, breaking the locked gazes of his lady chief and the enemy neighbour.

'Identify the men, Blane,' Eskine's eyes coldly swept to Gadd. 'I will personally decapitate them,' he vowed unflinchingly.

Grisell gasped at how readily he would behead a defiant member of his clan. She marvelled too, at how swiftly his eyes moved from scorching hot to arctic coldness. Gadd's eyes raged angrily. He could not identify the culprits, but he could vouch for his trusted guards. If they saw men on their property, then men were on their property.

'I cannot positively identify the men,' Gadd confessed, directing a deathly glare at Eskine, whose eyes swept to Grisell. He noticed the chief was not ganging up against him, or had she delegated to her uncle, the menial task of dealing with him for being guilty of stealing from her. He felt incensed that she even came onto his property, supporting this ridiculous charge.

Grisell cringed silently. She had known this would have been a wasted exercise. Why would Eskine contemplate such a futile attack? He had no cause. Both she and he as leaders of their respective tribes made concerted efforts to not, provoke the other. There was an unvoiced and  unacknowledged level of respect and trust between them, but neither would publicly concede that it existed.

'If I find your men on Dalmahoy property, I will empty my rifle on them,' Gadd swore.

'If it's my men, then you have my permission,' Eskine agreed. 'Lady Dalmahoy, Blane,' He tipped his hat dismissively.

Gadd's nostrils flared angrily at Eskine's contemptuous dismissal. He could do nothing without factual evidence, yet he yearned to draw blood. Grisell could see her trigger-happy uncle was not ready to be dismissed; she nudged gently into the hump of her horse.

'Let's take our leave uncle.'

Gadd nodded in Grisell's direction and sped off without waiting for her. Without acknowledging Eskine, Grisell turned her horse around and caught up with her uncle.

'He's lying,' Gadd fumed angrily. 'I know it.'

And Grisell knew Eskine would never lie, but she could not voice that conviction. Eskine was a battle-hardened soldier. He feared nobody. Why would he lie? But she could not debate that with Gadd.

'We have his permission to take action against any of his people who trespass. Let's double our manpower on the south border, and shoot to kill,' she issued. If there were trespassers on their land, then they shall meet the might of their warriors.

Grisell had a hurried lunch so as not to be late for the meeting she had called with the Council for that afternoon. When she had returned from Eskine's, she had had to deal with a domestic matter of some the kinsfolk who were in disagreement. That had taken longer than anticipated. When she walked into their meeting hall, Gadd was standing close to the chair she would occupy as head and ruler of their tribe. He held the chair out, so she could take her seat. She nodded her thanks to Gadd.

'Take your seats,' she instructed to the twenty odd men and women who constituted the Council, that would deliberate with her on matters of concern to the tribe. Some of the issues they would debate, were to build more infrastructure, as families were rapidly expanding, others related to expanding part of their land for agricultural purposes, pulling out some of their ships for maintenance work after having suffered in rough seas. And some of the womenfolk, who served as educators, had requested her to consider building extra class rooms as the current ones were over capacitated.

'I said take your seats,' she repeated louder as two men were still enjoying a private conversation at the coffee station. One mumbled apologetically and scurried to a seat, whilst the other purposefully hovered at the coffee station, nursing his coffee cup.
She felt her nerves fray at his insolence, like his stance was deliberate. Grisell looked in Gadd's direction, but he seemed to be reading some notes he'd written.

She pushed her chair back and strode to where he stood. Without warning, she unsheathed her sword and sliced it down the shirt of his arm. It shredded his shirt and she knew it pierced the flesh down his arm, but only superficially.

'Want to explain your belligerence Deonaid?' She challenged calmly, holding her sword in the air, ready to strike again. He glared at her, cheeks fiery red, but he didn't dare defy her authority.

'Draw your sword,' she invited, getting into position to defend her person, but he took two steps back.

'I said draw your sword!' she raised her voice though there was a hushed silence in the room. Not many could boast victory against her in a duel. In fact the only two men who had scored against her were her father and Gadd and not by a respectable margin. She was skilled, lightning fast, athletic, and had amazing reflexes.

Many duelled with her in aggressive practice sessions, but not many could shout bragging rights over her. In fact in this room, only her uncle Gadd, could be considered a worthy opponent...maybe.

'Take him to the dungeon,' she ordered her guards. 'Keep him there for two days with no meals.'

Deonaid was huffing and puffing, with steam coming out of his pudgy ears. His eyes were scrunched as if he was about to cry, but he allowed the soldiers to drag him to his allotted detention.

'Know what that exhibition was all about?' Grisell questioned her uncle.

'No Chief Dalmahoy.' He addressed her by her title in the presence of the Council.

Grisell stood at her chair and addressed the men. 'If any man here shares Deonaid's sentiment, address me now or I will deal with you more harshly than Deonaid has suffered,' she warned. The silence prevailed. The men's heads remained bowed.

'Good. Let's get down to business,' she slid into her chair and directed the Council accordingly.

The meeting ran well into the evening, but Grisell took a stroll, before she could have her supper. Gadd offered to walk with her, but she declined his company. She walked into the cool of the night, down the path that led to where one could watch the sea shore. In the distance the odd ship could be seen, lit up like a Christmas lights as it traversed the night seas. Closer to her, Grisell heard the fierce high tides as they crashed mercilessly against the rocks at the shore. The brackish scent of the sea somehow felt stronger, as it lashed against the rocks. When she was much younger, she often wondered what made the waves so angry that they struck the rocks so violently. Now much the wiser, she understood the gravitational pull of the alternating tractive forces that cause the high and low tides.

She sat on a wooden log and contemplated the behaviour of Deonaid and wondered if it was the start of rising dissension. She knew certain elements within her tribe, silently rebelled against her, a woman, being their chief. For hundreds of years, a male had always been the first born, and succeeded as Chief of the tribe. Unfortunately, for them, her parents had produced a daughter, and their law expressly stipulated that the first born, not the first male born, would succeed as chief. And added to that woe was, that she was the only child of her parents. And if by some fateful catastrophe, should she die before her father, her uncle Gadd as next of kin, would assume the title as Chief of the Dalmahoy. She was a good leader; hardworking, fearless, astute, decisive and bold. She could not fathom this cold manifestation of betrayal, she was sensing deep in her bosom. It irked her that her gender was an issue to her subjects. She could outwit, outperform any of her subjects in battle and she'd proved it on more than one occasion. A soft rustle of leaves had her springing up, sword at the ready to defend against imminent attack.

'It's only me child,' Gadd smiled slyly. 'You have missed supper.'

'I wasn't hungry,' she sheathed her sword back in its holster and sat down again.

'Do not be troubled Your Highness,' he sat down next to her. 'You will always get the odd one challenging you.'

It astounded her that he always could read her mind. She nodded, having no desire to respond. He offered her a cloth that seemed to hold something within. Grisell accepted it, immediately smelling the aroma of remnants of supper. She opened the starched cloth and found a roasted chicken wing, two slices of roast pork and a few slices of cheese.

'Thank you,' she smiled and bit into a slice of pork.

'Do you know your father had to deal with rebellion as well?'

'Really!'

'More than once,' Gadd supplied. 'And it was a good thing.'

'How so?' She questioned, biting into the delicious chicken.

'Men will always challenge and provoke a leader, wanting assurance that the leader, can be relied upon when the going gets tough; and can hold his own.'

'Or her own,' Grisell grinned, accepting the little flask he handed her after first taking a swig himself. Grisell gulped thirstily, only to violently cough at the strong taste of the brandy. She wasn't one for potent alcohol.
'Trying to kill me,' she rasped, feeling the bruising burn in her throat.

Gadd laughed. 'Or her own,' he conceded.

She offered him some cheese as she polished off more of the roast meat.

'No thank you. I did justice at the table. You want to go dip your feet in the water? You always loved that at night when you were little,' he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

'Okay,' she smiled. 'Uncle Gadd when are you going to marry?'

'After you child,' he laughed. 'And the Council are demanding it happen soon. They want you to produce an heir.'

'Really? I don't recall that being tabled this afternoon?'

He grinned. 'You were in attack mode. They thought to mention it after your departure as an aside.'

'I'm too young to get married,' she murmured, as wicked thoughts of the tall, attractive Eskine, with his dark, dangerous, arresting eyes filled her with a sense of longing. Gadd gripped her shoulders, immediately causing her to abandon her train of thought.

'You must marry Grisell. Be realistic. We are always at war. Anything can happen. You must produce an heir. It is vitally important.'

'Father is still alive,' she brushed his hands away from her shoulders and began walking away. 'And you are here too.' She did not want to contemplate being in another man's arms. She was expected to go to her groom as a virgin bride. It was expected of her, yet the only man she desired to touch her, to make love to her was Eskine, but that could never happen, would never happen.

'You know our laws,' he admonished gently. 'Every generation before you adhered to it to the letter.'

'I know my duty uncle Gadd,' she sliced her hand in the air in frustration. 'I also know every male chief before me indulged in a harem ___.'

His burst of laughter stopped her mid-sentence. 'Are you saying you want the same?'

'No! Off course not!' Thankfully it was dark. He could not see her flushed cheeks. 'I would prefer to marry for love... and with a clause on fidelity. Not just because duty required me to produce an heir. And if the man I marry were to be unfaithful to me ... I will kill him.'

'And as Chief of the Dalmahoy, you have that executive privilege which cannot be challenged.'

'Then why am I being coerced into marriage,' her eyes lifted up to his, searchingly.

He paused briefly before answering. 'In some matters, it is better to acquiesce with the Council. They want continuity in the lineage of the Chief. This is hardly a significant matter for you to wage a battle about.'

They were at the shore. She threw off her sandals and walked towards the water. Her feet delighted in the cool, softness of the sand. The next wave came rushing to her and reached her knees. She shrieked at the coldness of the water, looking down at her dress drenched at her ankles. She didn't want to think about Gadd's speech to her. She didn't want to heed his advice. But again his calm voice penetrated her sanctuary.

'Every girl dreams of marriage and a wedding. You can have any man you want,' he gripped her arms passionately. 'You are the chief. You can choose any man. And dare I say that every male in our tribe would sacrifice his right arm to have the honour of the beautiful, intelligent, brave, Lady Dalmahoy as wife.'

That's just it! Every man in our tribe leaves me cold.

'I'll think about it,' she offered.

A broad smile etched his face. 'Anyone tickle your fancy?' He probed.

'Perhaps Adaira Lexine.'

Gadd roared with laughter. 'He's almost a hundred years old!'

'I'm sure he said, seventy-nine, the last time we spoke.' And it was difficult having a conversation with Adaira. He was hard of hearing.

'You're not marrying him,' Gadd declared dismissively.

Her eyebrows arched angrily.

'With all due respect Your Highness. Be serious!'

The waves were now thrusting at her hips threatening to throw her off her feet. 'I'm freezing. Let's go back,' she ordered.

'What should I tell the Council?'

To go to hell! 'When I choose a husband, they will be the first to know.'

Gadd mumbled under his breath, but led the way back home. With a grin, she silently followed.

                                                                      -end chapter four-