Medieval Monday | The MacFhearguis Brothers
Welcome to Medieval Monday! Only two more weeks until the world-wide release for Wishes Under a Highland Star! Though I'm getting excited and nervous, can someone please slow down the days? I want to treasure each one, each moment this holiday season.
Today, I'm talking about two men--the MacFhearguis brothers. Though there were four brothers--Michael, Alex, Patrick, and Adam, I'm going to discuss only two. If you've been following along with my stories, you might recall Patrick (To Weave a Highland Tapestry), and Alex (Wishes Under a Highland Star) from the Order of the Dragon Knights series. Alex became chieftain for their clan in Dragon Knight's Axe (book 3). For those who haven't read the books, I won't post spoilers here. Let's just say, Alex never wanted the leadership. He preferred his own role within the clan. Alex was a quiet, gruff, and a brooding man. Whereas, Patrick imbued a comical, light-hearted personality. I've always enjoyed the banter between these two men.
Before I share a sneak preview between these two brothers, I wanted to let you know the digital book, To Weave a Highland Tapestry is on sale for 99 cents. If you already have a copy, consider gifting one to a friend.
Available at AMAZON
Scene from Wishes Under a Highland Star
COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Mary Morgan
Alex MacFhearguis listened in rapt attention to the story unfolding within the great hall. The woman had a musical lilt to her tone, even as she shifted the bairn in her arms. The tale was most certainly folly—a tale woven from fantasy. Yet he found himself unable to walk away. Though she possessed great skills as a weaver of tapestries, he pondered if she was also gifted as a bard.
While he leaned against the stone wall, a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. If the children had been older, would they find this purely trifle like he did? He yearned to add his question to the countless others but refrained.
Patrick approached and nudged him. “She weaves a powerful tale, aye?”
Arching a brow in disbelief at his brother’s words, he disputed, “She speaks of deer flying, and a giant elf dressed in a red cloak who guides these deer. And their home is in the far north covered in ice and sugar.”
“Aye, aye. ’Tis a strange story—one I have heard her tell our son.” Patrick brushed a hand down the back of his neck.
Alex snorted in disbelief. “Are ye certain your wife is not one of the Fae?”
Mirth danced in his brother’s eyes. “I can assure ye my wife is not a Fae. Simply a woman who tumbled back in time when she pulled on a cursed thread around our giant yew tree.”
Returning his gaze to the scene near the blazing hearth, Alex asked softly, “Did ye ask the elder weavers to strip the remaining thread?”
Patrick chuckled. “Aye, with the help of Gwen. They even blessed the tree. The curse is broken and buried.”
Alex shuddered. “Good. I have nae desire to have any other women from another time venturing onto our land.”
“Fearing one will come for ye?” chided Patrick.
Alex glared at his brother. “None will be welcomed.”
His harsh response did not discourage his brother. The man clucked his tongue in disapproval. “’Tis a wonder any woman would talk to ye with the fierce looks ye gave to those we greeted this summer.”
“Did I invite them to Leòmhann? Nae.” Alex recoiled at the memory.
“They traveled with their fathers, who ye summoned.”
“To discuss the terms within the Great Glen, not marriage contracts,” corrected Alex, scratching at several days’ growth of beard.
“If I recall, I warned ye this would happen when the first man arrived with his daughter following swiftly behind him.”
Alex muttered a curse. “Do not remind me. It was a wretched summer of escaping boring conversations and tense discussions over the ongoing threat of King John within our lands.”
Patrick lowered his voice. “Ye forgot your manners on more than one occasion, and ye ken I was not speaking about your talks with the other chieftains.”
“’Tis always good to ken ye were nearby to remind me of my duties,” Alex responded dryly.
“I fear ye frightened many a young lass. Your sullen demeanor did not go well with some of their fathers.” Patrick tapped a finger to his chin. “I believe ye reduced the Campbell lass to a fit of tears after she presented ye with a gift.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Alex fought the urge to wipe the smirk from his brother’s face with his fist. “Can ye not imagine my shock to find she had made me a cap to wear at night while sleeping?”
Patrick coughed into his fist. “Ye did not need to tell the lass that ye prefer to sleep without any clothing.”
Shrugging, Alex responded, “’Tis the truth. At least she took the item with her when she fled my solar.”
“By the Gods, ye are a boar’s ass. And ye, our chieftain.”
Don't forget to see if these Ladies of Medieval Monday have something to share as well:
Barbara Bettis: http://www.barbarabettis.com/index.php/blog/
Anastasia Abboud: https://www.anastasiaabboud.com/a-little-romance
COVER CONTEST UPDATE!
A wonderful surprise happened to me over the weekend! The cover for Wishes won the weekly Creme de la Cover Contest at InD'tale Magazine! Thank you so much to those who voted for this stunning cover! Now I need to beg another favor. The cover is competing against two others in the monthly contest. If you have a moment, please hop on over and cast your vote, once again.
Remember, you must log in first! Go here to vote once:
I'm wishing those who celebrate, a beautiful and peaceful Thanksgiving. The Tavern will be closed for the rest of the week for this holiday. As a special treat, I'll be sharing the book trailer for Wishes Under a Highland Star on the next Medieval Monday.