Page 6 of Bride Takes a Charmer
Shaw didn’t appreciate the disrespectful tone in his commander’s voice. He reached out and gripped Trey’s tunic. “Whether we are warring with anyone has no bearing on our readiness. We are surrounded by clans that would overtake us. Along with that, how many of them fight over land rights? Too many to count. If our men cannot handle a wee bit of briskness, then they should find another clan to follow.” Trey tried to pull himself away but Shaw wouldn’t release him. “I’m not finished. When I want ye to see what is important and what is not, I will tell ye. Get back to the field and train our men as is your duty.”
When he released Trey, his commander gave him a defeated look and turned away. Shaw detested that he had to be coarse with his leader, but it was necessary. He needed his men to follow his orders without question. Although he might have agreed with his commander, he couldn’t accept his defiance. Trey was stubborn and hoped to lead the men without his interference. Yet he hadn’t proven himself yet, at least since Shaw had taken over as laird.
Shaw entered the keep and ambled down the hallway until he reached the great hall. He found his grandmother having her morning fare, sat next to her, and poured himself a cup of ale. As usual, there was no one else in the hall besides the two of them.
He had no siblings besides Corliss but his sister had married and lived with her husband. He had cousins, most of whom resided with Clan Chattan. Even though he had few blood-related clansmen, his clan’s followers were closer to him than his relatives.
Thoughts of his family brought on the memories of his parents. Shaw missed his father and mother. They’d been taken from him five years before when a strange malady brought on fits of coughing and fever. They’d perished before he reached his majority.
He leaned back in his seat and continued to hold the cup of ale. When he raised it to his lips, his grandmother shot her gaze at him.
“When are ye going to let me go?” Her words came low, saddened.
“I would gladly let ye go, Mamo, but it is not up to me.”
“God does not want me to leave ye alone. When are ye going to marry and bring bairns into the world? I deem that is what holds me here. Have ye no guilt for that?” She lowered her chin.
“That is not what holds ye here, Mamo, and well ye know it. When ye do go, it will be hard for me to accept. I want ye to be happy though, and I pray that God hears your plea.”
She nodded and said nothing further. There always seemed to be an easiness between them. They often ate their morning meal in silence, which was somewhat of a blessing since his clan was rather needy and he rarely got a moment’s peace.
Edra, the keep’s maidservant, entered and carried a pot of pottage which she set near him. “Good morn, Laird.”
“My thanks, Edra, for the fare.” He pulled a hollowed-out trencher toward him and filled it with the delicious-smelling pottage. “What have ye made for the morn meal? It smells good.”
“Oh, ’tis naught but vegetables and some spices. I’m afraid there was no meat left in the stores so…the pottage be light.” She shrugged. “Eat your fill, Laird.”
“Trey says ’tis too cold to train. Perhaps I’ll have the soldiers hunt instead. They will refill your stores, Mistress, within a sennight.”
“I should have told ye that we were running low. Och, there is much to do this day. My thanks for allowing my daughter to help me. Enid is capable and does my heavy lifting.”
Shaw nodded to the sweet woman. Though she was aged, she still had a head full of thick brown hair with no streaks of gray as yet. Her likewise brown eyes often gazed at him with motherly affection. Edra was devoted to him and had been caring for his parents before they passed. He was grateful for all that she did for him and their clan.
He spooned in mouthfuls of pottage and wished there were pieces of rabbit in it. As he ate his morning fare, he pulled the missives from his tunic that he’d received from Clovis earlier and set them on the table. There were four in all. He spread them out and noticed the one with the king’s insignia pressed into the wad of wax in the center.
Shaw opened the missive and scanned the lines. His king wanted his attendance in Edinburgh. He didn’t indicate why but only ordered that Shaw needed to make haste. Shaw sighed because the last thing he wanted was to travel. Yet he could not reject an order from his king. Alexander hadn’t completely taken the crown but had a short amount of time before he would claim it outright. Shaw supported him, as he had Alexander’s father. That decided, he folded the missive and set it aside. He would leave for the king’s residence later that day.
The next missive was from his sister, Corliss. He read the brief message and grew grim at her words:
Brother, our home was besieged by the dastardly Cummings and was all but destroyed. Idris, my dear husband, and I shall stop at Tor on our way to ye. I look forward to seeing ye and Mamo. Pray for our safe journey. Ever your devoted sister, Corliss.
Idris Dunbar, his sister’s husband, had many rivals, the Cummings Clan being one of them. The Cummings were a crafty lot and since their foiled attempt to usurp the king’s father when he’d held the crown, they tried to influence others to usurp Alexander as well. Fortunately, their king married the daughter of England’s king and there seemed to be a peace betwixt the nations. That, however, did little to quell the Cumming’s control which was the cause of many alliances against them in the Highlands. Shaw looked forward to seeing Corliss but he wasn’t pleased with his sister’s news. Hopefully, the situation would de-escalate.
He reached for the next missive which was from Geoff Chattan, his cousin. Shaw barely made out the words with the way his cousin scratched his message. He perceived that Geoff wanted him to come and that they needed to meet. He’d stop by on his return from Edinburgh and perhaps meet his sister there.
The last missive, hopefully, brought better news than the previous one. Shaw cracked the seal and saw that it was from Tom, the owner ofThe Tavernin Fassiefern. He hadn’t seen Tom in some time, but he was a good comrade and one that he trusted. His friend wrote that a young lad was begging for food in the town and needed a good home.
Shaw appreciated his friend reaching out. Since he’d become laird, Shaw often brought home any misbegotten lads and lassies who needed a home. His clan was smaller than most in the north and he’d gained followers by increasing their numbers with the unwanted children in nearby towns and villages. Thelads were always gladdened to join the ranks of the fledgling soldiers. The lasses were allowed to work or to become the wards of his clansmen and women. All benefited from his altruism.
On his return from Edinburgh, he would have to stop in Fassiefern and find out about the lad who needed aid. If he were agreeable, he’d return with him. If not, the poor lad was subjected to misery because hardly anyone was willing—or able—to feed the needy. Late winter often left stores empty as well as coffers. Many children left orphaned through the winter suffered famine and unfortunately, death, if they were unable to gain aid.
Shaw finished his sparse meal and spoke a farewell to his grandmother. On the way out of the keep, he spotted Enid and called her to him. “Mistress Enid, I need your favor.”
“Aye, Laird?” She set the basket she held on the floor and curtseyed to him.
“I am leaving the keep and need someone to look after my grandmother. If she sleepwalks during the night, ye will find her at the graves. Take her cloak for she oft forgets it. Guide her back home when she awakens. Do not try to force her for she can be violent if jarred awake.”
The maid frowned at his request. “Ah…Laird, ye ask such an…important task of me.”