'Chief,' Hamish Finn one of her young trusted warriors, drew her attention.

'What is it Hamish?' she smiled.

'I bring bad news,' he scratched his head hesitantly.

'Let me have it,' she sighed.

'The boundary wall on the east side, is showing deep cracks. It must be fixed immediately.'

'You got a list for me?'

He scratched his head again. 'I'm going to work it out for you Chief, but we must get the materials today.'

She nodded. 'Take some men and see to it. I will get Iona to sign it off.'

'Yes Chief,' he grinned 'and I will get you some of that cream toffees, you like.'

'It's been a while since I had some. I've almost forgotten how good it tastes,' she smiled back.

The next evening Grisell was all excited to see Eskine. She could not wait for midnight. Just before supper, she'd showered and put on an old weather worn dress and tied up her hair. She'd taken supper with Gadd. They'd laughed, had much wine. He had reminisced of the days when she was young, impressionable and pliable. Grisell wondered if he was talking about her or some imaginary character. From the second she had been born, she'd had a wilful mind of her own.

'I think you have had too much wine Uncle Gadd. I can hardly identify with the girl you speak of.'

He laughed heartily. 'She became a beautiful lady, who is ready for marriage.'

'Now you have just spoilt the evening. You are dismissed. Good night.'
She stood up and indifferently walked to her quarters, without giving him a backward glance. She attended to some paperwork from Iona and read some documents of projects some of the ladies wanted her to give attention to. It was about eleven pm when Grisell decided she would go out to wait for Eskine. She changed into a pair of dark pants, a dark cloak and slipped away through her back door. To her amazement, Eskine was there, on the grass, laying on his back.

'You're here already,' she whispered.

'And you've arrived an hour earlier,' he grinned, standing up.

'My uncle was annoying me,' she sighed, hating that she would eventually have to choose a husband from her clan.

'Anything I can help with?' he offered.

'No.' She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

'Would you like to sit,' he invited.

Grisell squatted onto the ground, resting her elbows on either side of her. 'I wish I could take a holiday,' she smiled. 'Go and see another country.'

'Why don't you?' He smiled, sitting opposite her.

'For one, my father is ill. I need to be here for him. Secondly, I'm afraid I may face a coup in my absence.'

Eskine laughed. 'You. Facing a coup. I hardly doubt anybody would challenge the most feared and revered Chief of the Dalmahoy.

She laughed. 'You know something I don't?'

'Well, I have it on good authority, that all your men fear you. I have been reliably informed, the only man who boldly dares to challenge you, is your father. Even Gadd, I believe, is not confident, that he will win a duel against you.'

'Where the hell did you hear this nonsense!' she laughed.

'Men talk freely, when a little imbibed.'

She didn't want to know, how he came to hear this kind of information.

'For the record, my father has never presented a challenge to me, not even when he was able bodied and in full stature.'

'Is that so?'

'My father surrendered his authority when I was three years old,' she grinned.

'Can you let me in on the secret? I believe he hates my guts.' Eskine murmured unsmilingly.

'Oh Eskine. I wish you could sit at the supper table with father and I. I wish it with all my heart.'

He leaned forward, his palm cupping her face. 'I wish for much more that that,' he breathed heavily; his warmth caressing her lips.

Her eyes locked with his, dark pools of desire filling her eyes, matching his own.

'My wish, I'm afraid is pretty selfish,' he murmured, dipping his head. 'Like this.' His lips captured her in a soft gentle kiss. She leaned forward, whispering his name.

'Eskine___.'

He kissed her again, tenderly. His lips teasing hers apart. Her arm wrapped around his neck. He pressed against her. His rock sturdy chest, warm and comforting against her bosom.

'Grisell___ I have wanted to kiss you for so long.' He pulled her closer. Her dainty soft breast, torturous against the wall of his chest. He lowered her against the grass, his mouth plundering hers. His hands raked into her hair. He groaned loudly. 'Soft like silk,' he whispered. 'You taste like fruity red wine,' he murmured huskily.

Grisell ran her fingers into his hair, caressing the wild, unruly curls through her fingers. She stopped kissing him to catch her breath. Her palms cupped his face.
'Kissing you is so__ beautiful,' she whispered.

His fingers unbuttoned her shirt. His eyes holding hers. He touched the velvet skin of her breast. She gasped. Feeling a corresponding ache in her mound. She wanted more. She wanted him. Eskine dipped his head. His lips found her aroused nipple. He suckled softly.

'You are so lovely Grisell. I want to devour all of you.' His palm cupped her lovely, well-shaped breast. It fitted perfectly into his palm. God his groin was demonstrating heatedly. It needed to be inside her post haste. He suckled on the rosy nipple. His tongue laving the tip teasingly.

'Eskine __ oh God,' she pulled his head, pressing him closer to her breast. Her palms caressed his sturdy back, running down his spine. Boldly her palms shaped his taut buttocks.

'Grisell. I have to stop.'

'What! No!' She pulled him down again.

He kissed her hungrily. 'I am not going to make love to you here on the grass, like an inexperienced youth, 'he smiled tenderly.

She sighed. 'We very well cannot make love in either your bed or mine! Oh hell! My groom is expecting me to be a virgin!'

He lifted his head. 'You are engaged to somebody?' His hands dropped in shock.

She shook her head. 'Not yet, but whoever he is, will expect me to be untouched.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You are the Chief. Nobody can dictate to you. If they do, slaughter their heads off!' He lifted himself away, and rebuttoned her shirt.

She laughed. 'Mmm___ I think I will consider that notion. I like it.'

He grinned. 'Shall we call it a night?'

'I guess,' she sighed. 'I didn't know kissing can be so enjoyable,' she cupped his face again.

'You've never kissed a man before?'

'No.'

'I want to be your first lover,' he demanded.

'I want you to be my only lover,' she responded.

He grinned. 'I can't promise exclusivity.'

Her eyes widened, astounded by that indifferent confession. She stood up. 'Good night Eskine Aird.'

'Wait! Grisell ___!' She ignored him, and stealthily hurried back to her quarters.

Eskine raked his hand through his hair in frustration. Now what was the problem? What is she incensed about? Surely, she realised that they could never have an open relationship; nor for that matter marry. Their tribes hated each other. Every day his tribesman brought him complaints of deliberate provocation from the Dalmahoys. And each day he had to calm his men and stave off their penchant to wage war against their neighbour. There was no trust between the clans, and there was certainly no tolerance. The men of both tribes wanted an all-out battle to the death, until the last man was standing. So pray tell, how does the Chief of Dalmahoy expect them to have an open relationship? And hell, he had never been a one-woman man. He liked women and he liked variety. No lover was going to prescribe to him, the mighty Chief of the DeMartino, that he could be limited to one lover. Never. Never in a hundred years.

His ancestors of over five hundred years, had a history.  They wilfully and indulgently cavorted with a harem of lovers and he aimed to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors. If this was a deal breaker with the luscious Grisell Dane, Chief of the Dalmahoy... then so be it!

Grisell was in her quarters, looking over some paperwork. She was delighted with the surplus funds her ship had brought back from its trading. She had more than enough for the agricultural project. She set aside a healthy amount for the weapons that dominating and infuriating DeMartino advised her to purchase. She could even put down a larger portion of money for the new ship. She prayed to God for continued wisdom and favour and good health. If she had God on her side; then she was unlikely to fail Dalmahoy. Distracted by someone at the door, Grisell looked up and found Deonaid hovering, just outside her quarters. Two days of starvation in the dungeon had done him a world of good. He no longer looked at her as just a woman. She was able to command the respect he now demonstrated.

'Enter Deonaid.'

She patiently waited for him to start speaking. He was fumbling with his hands unnecessarily.

'Chief, I know you have concerns about finances, but there is a firearms merchant docked here. He has very good weapons___ the ones that will protect us well___ and the prices are good___ very good.

'Buy the lot,' she responded. She scribbled on a page. 'Take this to Iona. She will arrange the payment.'

He blinked in surprise. 'You agree to the purchase?'

'Did you not just say, it is exactly what we need?'

'Ye---yes Chief.'

'Then get going!'

'Chief, you not going to believe this__'

'What!' Eskine cut off his right-hand man as he was speaking.

Macrae's eyes narrowed for an infinitesimal second, before he responded to his chief.

'That bloody arms dealer is supplying those Dalmahoy hounds.'

Eskine turned away and awarded himself a small smile. He turned back to his Number Two and shrugged. 'He's free to do business with whomever he chooses.'

'But __ they're building a sizeable arsenal to use against us.'

'Macrae, your priority is to protect our borders. If you do that, then our neighbours will hardly be victorious against us, now would they?'

'No Chief and I do a damn good job, if I say so myself.' He grinned. 'None have dared entered our premises, except for that finger wagging fool, Gadd!'

Eskine handed Macrae a pint and took a long swallow from his own. 'I am expecting some trouble, since our audacious and confrontational neighbour blew up the Macedon ship.'

'Ay, that she is. More balls that any man I know. Present company excluded,' Macrae cleared his throat.

Eskine laughed. 'If Macedon reinforcements come, best they arm themselves to the teeth, so we avoid unnecessary bloodshed coming our way.'

'And what if we are provoked?' Macrae asked, helping himself to another pint.

'Then we shoot first and ask questions later. Our defence is your top priority.'

'Amen to that Chief. You don't have to tell me twice.'

'That's why you're my Number Two, Macrae,' Eskine winked.

'Say Chief, is everything ___ okay?'

'Why do you ask?' Eskine took another swallow, knowing the reason full well. Macrae had never seen his chief get emotional previously.

Macrae knew his chief to be cool, calm and planned well, before executing any action. Eskine's outburst was out of the ordinary.

Damn that Dalmahoy wench! She is getting under my skin!

'Don't know. Like something is troubling you.'

Macrae knew his chief never allowed anything to trouble him. He addressed it head on and dealt with it decisively. So he was wondering what was up with his chief.

'The only thing troubling me,' Eskine grinned, 'is I don't have enough cold beers!'

'I can fix that right away Chief, and you coming out to watch the lads play. I reckon I know which team to put your money on Chief,' Macrae laughed.

'You're on,' Eskine nodded. "Let's have a few cases of cold ones, on the ready for the winning team then,' Eskine joined his Number Two, to watch the sport the lads had set up in four teams.

Grisell was watching her guards training in hand to hand combat and fencing. She was quite pleased to see quite a few women amongst the guards in training. The men were good, quick reflexes and were showing admirable strength.

Gadd looked up, saw her sitting on one of the benches and climbed the stairs to joined her. He wiped his brow, extending a questioning look to her?

'Which one?' He grinned.

'Excuse me?'

Gadd jerked his head towards the men in training. 'Which one will you marry?'

There were more than fifty men in training. The last thought on her mind was finding a suitor. Hell she was so infuriated by Eskine Aird, she was quite content to remain a spinster until she took her last breath. And to answer Gadd's question; not one, no not one single Dalmahoy took her fancy.

'I'll choose one.'

'You will?' Gadd was astonished.

'Yes, after a duel with me.'

He threw his hands up in the air. 'Grisell no one stands a chance against you!'

'I'll be damned to marry any man who can't protect me! If he can't defend himself against me, he most certainly will never be able to ensure the safety of the Chief of the Dalmahoy. What good is he to me then huh?'

Gadd was contemplative. She had a point. How could she respect a man that could not hold his own against her, never mind that she was the most feisty, self-sufficient, quick witted and fearless female, he had ever encountered.

'So you will ___ kill the opponents who are unable to defeat you?' He questioned.

'No. I can't kill my soldiers. I need them. I will duel with potential suitors. Right now! Whoever draws my blood first, can consider himself the victor. I will challenge them, four at a time. If none succeed, I never want to hear from you or the Board, about me taking on a husband!'

She was quite serious then. He had taught her to duel with eight to ten men in her training, from her early years. In training, whomever she'd disarmed, she was victor over them. Besides her father and Gadd, there was not a man of the clan, who had had victory over her. Now she was willing to take them on, just four at a time, meaning she meant business to annihilate them, once and for all.

Gadd stood up. He asked the soldiers, who amongst them would like Grisell's hand in marriage to step to his left. They all began to look around at each other. Slowly, one boldly stepped to the left, then five then nine, eventually about sixteen, stood to Gadd's left. All the men looked up to where she sat, expectantly.

Grisell heaved herself into the air and landed next to Gadd, her sword at the ready. 'If any man can draw my blood with his sword, I'll marry you,' she vowed.

She heard murmurs and sighs as Gadd set them up in teams of fours. Grisell waisted no time. She raised her sword. With instinctive agility, she made light work of the first four. She grazed the one's arm.

Made a light scar on one's ear. Sliced the tip of her sword down one's chest, not too serious, just enough to allow blood to appear. The last one tried to sneak up behind her. For his deceit, she gashed his knee rather brutally. He would be in bed for a week.

The next eight were even easier. Adrenalin was pumping through her at the speed of sound. They put up a challenging advance, but not for a second did she feel weakened or near defeat. She spun in a three hundred and sixty degree turn on one knee. Her sword at the ready, and all the men, were looking down at blood oozing from their legs. Twelve down, four to go. Not a single one had advanced close enough for their swords to reach her person.

The last four advanced. Their backs against each other. They moved around her in a circular fashion. Gadd had taught her this. All eyes on the enemy. None had their backs exposed to danger. If she attacked one, the three others would advance on her. She smiled inwardly, took three steps backwards before she hoisted herself into the air. She saw Gadd cover his face and knew, he knew her strategy. Grisell lashed out with both her feet and knocked them all down. She had fallen on her back, but had gotten up with lightning speed. The men were all still out. With her sword, she made a cross on each one's chest, just enough for the blood to ooze through. There was not a single man standing. She bowed, looked Gadd's way, exited the training arena and ran up the stairs to seek solace in her quarters.

Now they would shut up! No more would she have to contend with whining about taking a husband. No more would Gadd dare to broach her about marriage and heirs. For now, she was home free, but in the near future, her father or some brave Dalmahoy was going to remind her she needed a heir. For now she bought herself some breathing space.

It was five in the morning, she was exhausted from yesterday's combat sessions with her would be suitors, but the incessant knocking on her bedroom door, was proving difficult to ignore. Grisell threw on a morning gown and yanked the door open.

'Hamish Finn! What gives?'

'It's Swale,' Finn grinned from ear to ear. 'She's ready to foal?'

Grisell studied Finn's exhausted face. 'I thought she wasn't due for another three weeks!'

He shook his head and smiled. 'She had a rough night. I've been rubbing her down and offering her water. She's been grunting a lot now. Like demanding I help get her foal out.'

'Ah the sweet thing. Is she in pain?' Grisell rushed into her bathroom. Washed up quickly and put on a morning coat.

'No. Just restless, but so tender and doesn't want to be alone. She keeps rubbing her head against my arm,' Finn laughed.

'Let's go have a look,' Grisell ran out with Finn close on her heels. She rushed into Swale's stable and found the mare lying on her side, grunting unhappily.
'Morning, you big mummy,' Grisell cooed. 'Can I help?'

Swale grunted more loudly and shoved her head onto Grisell's lap. Grisell touched her abdomen and found the foal was pretty low. 'I think you're right, Finn,' Grisell whispered. 'Add more straw down, will you.'

Grisell stepped back and waited for Swale to do her thing. She was a strong, adorable and healthy mare. This would be her third foal and Grisell was confident the strong mum would be foaling within the hour.

'I see the legs,' Finn announced some fifteen minutes later, clapping softly.

Grisell paced about very slowly, behind Swale, giving her room and space allowing her to bring out her foal. She groaned, grunted and shifted about restlessly and fifty-three minutes later, a gorgeous dapper grey male foal was wobbling about on his unsteady legs, as the umbilical cord broke away.

'Well done lass,' Finn patted Swale's rump, with the biggest grin. 'You did good.''

Grisell laughed happily. 'He's gorgeous ain't he?' She watched the little guy trying to bob to his mother for his milk.

'He sure is,' Finn moved some hay around closer to the mare to make her more comfortable.

'Finn, I am starving. I need breakfast.' She was happy, mother and foal were doing very well.

"Me too Chief. I won't say I can eat a horse!'

They laughed and hurried to the kitchen to find some food. Finn was relaying to Grisell the seasonal fruit that was growing in his garden. He'd found some interesting seeds on the continent and was quite impressed with the efforts of his labour.

'You going to share some with me?' She questioned, biting into a sausage.

'Only if you beg very nicely Chief. That was torturous blood, sweat and tears.' He hinted.

'I beg. Please. I beg. May I sample your fruit?'

'Who would have thought?' He laughed, biting into a chunk of bread. 'You may Chief. You may.'

She laughed. 'You know, I suspect you sweated a bit in the sun, but I doubt there was any blood or tears.'

There was a loud guffaw 'How else can one ever witness his Chief begging?'

'And live to talk about it,' her steak knife was poised rather precariously.

A smirk filled his face. 'And who will look after your life stock if you kill me, Chief?'

'Mmmm___,' she refilled her coffee cup.

'Thank you Chief.' He stood up. 'That wall ain't going to fix itself. I best go finish it up.'

Grisell nodded, as she helped herself to a scone and layered it with lots of butter.

She lifted her head when she felt a presence towering over her. 'Good morning Uncle,' she offered, to a sombre looking Gadd.

'You explicitly engineered that yesterday. Didn't you?' He accused.

'I did.' She placed her coffee cup down, none too gently. ' I. am. Chief. Of. Dalmahoy. Not you. Not Father and not your bloody Council is going to dictate to me! You got that Uncle Gadd. I will marry when I choose. If I was a man, you would never dare to have this conversation with me!

And another thing,' she stood up, 'inform the Council, effectively immediately, I have disbanded them. Tonight, the people elect a new council. Enjoy your day Uncle Gadd.'

Grisell had not seen her uncle that furious. His face was contorted, his eyes were like two steel blades. His cheeks and ears were blood shot red. His knuckles were clenched in tight fists as he glowered at her.

Grisell did not give a continental. It was high time dictatorial Gadd and his misogynistic, patriarchal old men's club acknowledged, that she was their ruler!

                                                                            -                  -end chapter 6-