when they returned from France to find their clan in near ruin. Their lands and people were secure once more. And with Hugh's death, the hatreds and sorrows caused by the previous generation were finally laid to rest.
He smiled to himself thinking how it was not a fierce, sword-wielding MacDonald warrior who had wrested Trotternish from the MacLeods, but a deceptively frail-looking lass. That was Ilysa's wedding gift to the clan.
At last, his bride came through the doorway - and stole his breath away. Sweet Ilysa had surprised him once again by coming to their wedding as his faery dancer. She was a vision in gold in the luminous gown, which was so light it floated as she walked. He was relieved to see that she wore a chemise beneath it so he did not have to order all the men to turn their backs. Her glorious red-gold hair fell in loose tendrils to her waist, and there were tiny blue flowers in it like the ones she had worn at Mingary Castle.
His heart swelled as she joined him. They clasped their hands, palm-to-palm, and he wrapped the strip of linen Duncan handed him around their wrists three times. After they exchanged the traditional pledges, she started to turn for the next part of the ceremony, but he held her in place. She widened her eyes and tilted her head to the side to remind him what came next.
"I'm no finished," he whispered. A simple vow wouldn't due for such a lass. "I pledge my sword, my body, and my heart...," he began and then continued, pausing between each line:
...to the angel who watches over me
the healer who mends me
the efficient lass who keeps my household
the seer who warns me of danger
the helpmate who makes my burdens lighter
the mother of my future children
the faery lass who weaves magic in my nights and
the woman who makes me whole,
You are everything I ever longed for and every woman I will ever need.
Connor turned then to present his bride to his clan, and the hall erupted into wild cheers of approval. This chieftain's wife was beloved by her clan. With Ilysa at his side, he would be the man and chieftain she believed he could be.
EPILOGUE
1525
Children, stay here with your father," Ilysa said. After kissing Connor, she left them to throw stones in the pond while she carried her new babe to meet the man waiting beyond the next hill.
When she reached her grandfather, she embraced him warmly and put her new babe in his arms.
"This one looks like you," he said, after they sat down on the log. "What's her name?"
"Tearlag," she said. "We named her for the old seer who died the night she was born."
The seer had foretold that the child's gift of The Sight would rival her own, and the babe was born at midnight on a full moon. Ilysa sighed. She missed the old seer.
"The other children have grown," he said, watching them from between the hills. "The lads are tall - they take after the MacLeod side."
Ilysa refrained from mentioning that the boys had Connor's fine looks as well as his height. After they had talked at length about the children, she had business to discuss with him.
"My husband received another summons to appear before the regent to settle the dispute between the two of ye over Trotternish."
"I received one as well," the MacLeod said, "same as last year and the year before."
"Connor would prefer to ignore it, if you're willing to do the same."
"Ach, 'tis always perilous to go to court," the MacLeod said. "I intend to stay home."
"He'll be grateful, as am I." She kissed his weathered cheek.
They had kept this secret pact for years now. Except for the time the MacDonalds had helped Torquil reclaim Lewis, her clan had lived in peace since her marriage.
Ilysa handed her grandfather the pot of salve she had made for him and took her babe from his arms. "I'll see ye next year."
It was hard to see him so rarely. She embraced him one more time before returning to where her family waited.
Connor had already built the fire. Before they left, she made the protective circle for her family and her clan, as she did each year.
"...May ye live to be an old man."
When she came to this part of the chant, she conjured her beloved as a handsome old man with deep lines and snowy white hair. Unlike the first time, she saw herself as an old, happy woman beside him.
"May your children be bonded to each other by great affection," she said as she circled the fire the third time, "and may ye have grandchildren who bring ye joy."
When she finished, Connor wrapped his arms around her.
"Come, mo r霉in," he said in her ear, "let's go home and make another kind of magic."