Page 25 of Bride Takes a Laird

“Do ye not need me to go with ye, Laird? I should protect yourback.”

“Nay, I appreciate the offer, but Wyren is going with me. We’re off to the village and will return before nightfall. Go and try not to enjoy yourself too much. After ye finish training, ye will stand guard at the fief and watch out for my wife.” Magnus laughed when Winston tossed the hay aside and returned a brief moment later, with his saddle and hurried to finish his tasks before he ran off. Sigge barked and ran after him in their excitement to get to the field.

Winston surpassed the lads his age at arms which was why Magnus had chosen him as his personal attendant. Since Winston didn’t need to train on the field all day, he found other things for him to do. That got him thinking that he might need to put Winston in charge of a fledgling group of young ones just starting, once the business of finding out who murdered Ned was finished. For now, he would command that Winston protect Kendra when he was not within the walls. If there was a foe within his clan, he wanted his wife protected.

*

He and Wyrenrode toward Fassiefern, a small hamlet on the north shore of Loch Eil that had a tavern situated in the village’s center. Many travelers stopped on the way to the north at the tavern. It was a good resting place of spectacular beauty.

Magnus chuckled when he viewed his brother who’d let his horse’s reins loose. Wyren closed his eyes and slouched as the horse trudged along. At least his brother could get a wee bit of shut-eye on the trek. He took hold of the reins and guided his brother’s horse along.

The afternoon cooled with a hearty wind blowing from the west but the sun shone when the clouds grew sparser. Magnus eased at the beauty that surrounded him. Sounds of siskins, bullfinches, woodpeckers, and crossbills sounded in the woodland along the trail. The views of the Suileag River came into sight and he breathed deeply taking thepristine air into his chest. Not only did the view of the bonny land ease him, but the sound of the running water lent to the ambiance of its serenity.

“If Ned was wagering at dice, I know a man that we can talk to when we get to the village. He’ll know where the games take place.”

Magnus shot his gaze to his brother. “I thought ye were asleep.”

“Nay, just closing my bleary eyes,ochbut I am awake. I trust not riding through these woods. The Chattans are oft near here and I would not leave myself open to attack.” Wyren took hold of his horse’s reins and picked up his pace. “Come, the sooner we get there the sooner we can return.” He rode past him.

Magnus signaled to his horse to pick up the pace and trailed his brother. At the village, many hawkers had called it a day and closed their carts and huts. At the end of the lane sat the whitewashed stone building of the tavern with its worn wooden signage. Simply calledThe Tavern, it was owned by a member of the MacDonald Clan who welcomed anyone be they aligned or a rival of his clan. Tom was more after the patron’s coins rather than their friendship.

A small hostel afforded them a place to secure their horses while they visited the village. There, they tethered their horses and paid for a small helping of feed. Magnus wanted to get his questions answered so he could return home. He wondered briefly how Kendra was getting on, but he shouldn’t worry about her. She was safe and with his family. Besides, he had told her that he was often away and that he wouldn’t see her much.

Near the building, Wyren stepped over a gully that had formed from recent rains and opened the door. Inside the stale odor of ale drifted to him. Magnus drew in the scent. He liked the tavern’s ale, for it was dark and tasted less sweet than other ales and the head was much creamier. He ordered their drinks and found an unoccupied table nearest to the small hearth at the far end of the room. The Tavern had a dozen tables and a high trestle table where patrons couldstand or where they ordered their drinks.

Magnus peered about the establishment and noticed a door across from them. He tilted his head, silently alerting Wyren of its location. “Do ye think that is where they wager?”

“I would say so.Och, let us wait until the servant comes.”

A few minutes later, two large tankards of ale were set before them. Wyren put a coin into the hand of their server, an older voluptuous woman who kept her eyes averted. “Is there by chance a game of dice being played this day?”

The server shook her brown-haired head and hastened away. He hadn’t seen the server before and she must be newly employed at The Tavern. Magnus disregarded the server and picked up his cup. He drank deeply until he almost emptied the tankard. “They serve the best ale here. Do ye see that friend of yours? Perchance he can tell us if there’s a game of dice happening.”

“I do not see him. Let us wait a wee bit. Maybe he will come. How was your night? Was your wife as pleasurable as ye hoped?”

Magnus chuckled. “Aye, she was.” He didn’t elaborate because it would be unseemly to do so. Yet he grinned at the remembrance of the passion he’d shared with Kendra. It almost made him wish he hadn’t left her early that morning but he looked forward to the night to come.

As Magnus sat there, his back was to the patrons. His brother motioned to the server who came and hastily refilled their tankards.

“Did ye hear what Hayden said? If Ned was wagering… I wonder where he got the coins? Ye do not think he took from our coffers, do ye?”

Wyren scowled hard at him. “I should hope the hell not. Have ye looked at the manuscripts yet and done an accounting? Surely they should be current and only the sums from when Ned had gone missing have yet to be added.”

Magnus grunted. “When have I had time? As soon as we buriedNed, I hailed off to Edinburgh. Now I am trying to find out what happened to him. I’ll get to it soon. If Ned used the clan’s coffers to pay for his wagering, I will curse him in hell.”

“Rest easy, brother, we know not if that is the case.” Wyren chuckled. “I never would have thought that Ned had the bollocks to take the clan’s coins. He was too pigeon-hearted and tied to our mother’s apron to do something so clever or ballsy.”

Magnus bellowed a laugh. “Aye, maybe he did not. I will find out though soon enough when I have time to look at the manuscripts.”

“There is my comrade,” Wyren said and stood. “Await me here. I’ll find out if any games are being played in the village.” He moved away and met with a man across the tavern. The man was a short stout man who wore no particular clan’s tartan. The vagrant spoke to his brother but Magnus couldn’t hear their words. Wyren gripped the man and lifted him off the floor. His brother set the man back on his feet, smoothed his tunic, and ambled away.

“Come, there’s a small barn behind the hostelry where they partake of dice and debauchery. We should find our answers there.”

Back outside, Magnus followed his brother to the hostel. They reverted around the building and crept toward the old barn in the distance. It appeared to be falling down with broken pieces of wood nailed over the gaps and holes in its sides and roof.

When they reached the door, Wyren yanked it open, practically removing it from its worn hinges. “After ye, brother.”

Magnus stepped inside and Wyren followed. He unfastened the loop of his dagger’s sheath and set his hand on the hilt. He didn’t much care for the look of the place or its occupants. The smell alone in the barn was rancid and he couldn’t even begin to guess what or where it came from. There was little candlelight to brighten the confines, but near the game, at least four candles sat on wooden crates.