Page 10 of Laird of Sighs (His Highland Heart #5)

CHAPTER 10

E arly the next morning, Ailsa knocked softly on her parents’ chamber door. She was at her wits’ end with the conundrum her brother presented, much less what their father would hear whispered around the clan about the other captive . Her mother answered, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders over her night rail. “Is Da up yet?”

“Nay, lass. He is still abed. The journey home tired him.”

“Can we talk in my chamber? I dinna want to disturb him.”

“Of course.”

They settled in Ailsa’s chamber. After she told her mother about her brother’s knowledge, she asked, “What am I going to tell Da?” Ailsa wanted to wail the question like a wean confused and angered by something out of her control. But she was years past that sort of behavior. With Boden out of the keep hunting the day Anders arrived, she had been left in charge of Sinclair and had made a decision to save a man’s life. She shouldn’t feel so anxious. But she kept picturing herself walking into the laird’s solar and telling him, “ Ach, I forgot to mention the man I have hidden in the herbal. ” He’d be on his feet and shouting for Anders to be fetched before she had a chance to explain how he got there. And why. And her da would be within his rights to punish her and to execute a man who refused to answer his questions. Would he listen to her long enough to understand that Anders could not comply? She needed her mother to be there, but she also wanted to face her father as an adult. In this case, she wasn’t certain how to do that. If he brought up the betrothal agreement in the midst of all this, she might lose her mind.

“Ye’ll tell yer da the truth, lass, as ye told me. He’ll have to meet him. To question him. He willna be happy.”

“Aye, I ken that. I most fear he’ll assume Anders belongs with the other men in the dungeon. Maighread believes he willna fare well there.”

“Yer da might be right to assume he’s one of theirs.”

“I ken it. Truth to tell, I’ve had the same thought several times since the other men were brought in. But I believe him. Maighread does, as well. And he’s come to mean so much to me. I ken it makes little sense.”

Her mother stroked her hair and smiled. “It makes perfect sense. Ye feel responsible for him. Ye saved him. And aye, he’s as handsome as any man in Scotland, and much more attractive than most. Ye’d be blind if ye didna see that. Ye have cared for him, and he has been appreciative of that care, aye?”

Ailsa felt herself blushing. “Aye. I still want to protect him.”

“Nay, lass. Well, aye, that, too, but he’s well enough ye want him able to protect ye . ’Tis natural, this attraction.”

“That doesna help me deal with Da. He’ll be furious if he thinks I’ve come to care for Anders. And he for me.”

“Has he?”

“I think so. But he’s cautious. He still doesna ken who he is or what ties he might have to others.”

“I honor him for his caution. But ’tis time to bring him out of hiding. I will find a chamber for him in the keep. Getting out of the herbal and living among us may help him more than staying there any longer.”

“’Twould. He is bored. I brought him books and a few friends to talk to, but …”

“But ’tis nay enough. I understand.” She paused. “Did ye ken yer da had to fight to win me?”

“What? Nay. Tell me.” Was her mother about to tell her there was hope for her and Anders?

“My da didna approve of the match. He wanted me to wed the MacLeod heir. But I had my heart set on yer da, and his on me. We wouldha hand fasted and run back to his clan, but before we could do something that would have put Sinclair and MacLeod at odds for generations, Mother convinced Da that the match was meant to be. Yer da may understand more than ye think, despite being invested in the betrothal with the Norse prince.” She hugged Ailsa and moved toward the door. “If he doesna, Maighread and I are used to convincing him to see our way when we think ’tis important enough.”

“But I am nay longer a wean. I must be the one to speak for Anders.”

“Ye will, but ye will have help. We women do naught of importance alone. I’ll go rouse yer da and tell him ye need to speak to him before anyone else does. Go down to his solar, and bring Maighread, too.”

After her mother left, Ailsa spent a moment thinking about how she would begin to explain Anders to her da, then left her chamber. Her knees shook the entire way to the herbal to collect Maighread and to the laird’s solar to talk to her father. Her mother was there with him, and smiled a welcome. Her da waved her to a seat. “What is this about, Daughter?”

She refused to face him sitting down. Once she’d explained how Anders came to be with them and what had happened since, she stood silent, barely breathing, waiting for her da’s reaction. It helped that she was flanked by her mother on one side and Maighread on the other, who repeated what she’d told Ailsa a few days before, that Anders might be better, but the dungeon was not the place for him to finish healing. It was a show of support that she deeply appreciated. But the look in her father’s eye still worried her.

“I will speak with him,” her father said. “But more urgently, I must see the ship’s crew as they are reputed to be of sound mind and should be able to answer some questions.” He turned to Maighread. “Ye can corroborate all that my daughter has said? The man Anders has posed no danger to the clan?”

“Of course, Laird. ’Tis why I’m standing here.”

“And ye, Wife, have met this paragon, I suppose, yet ye didna tell me.”

“Ye are being told now, Husband, as is proper for the laird to be informed of a guest in the keep.”

“A guest, eh?” He eyed his wife, a glimmer of a smile touching his eyes but not quite moving his lips. “Very well, call him what ye like, but I’m disposed to putting him with the other guests as soon as Maighread is comfortable that we willna kill him by doing so. See that he doesna cause me any trouble or he will move to the dungeon with the others.”

Ailsa nodded solemnly and left the solar with Maighread. Her mother stayed behind. Ailsa wished she could hear what else her mother would say to her father, but perhaps her mother would tell her later. She took hope from how well he’d accepted their united front. For now, Anders could stay in the keep. She couldn’t wait to tell him the news.

Stellan was losing hope. They’d ridden for the better part of three days, their gazes constantly moving between the sea, any beach that might be below them, and the forest and fields around them up on the cliffs. Seamus MacKay had not sent word that Anders had arrived, late but alive. They’d seen no sign of a birlinn , not Anders’ craft, and not any others. Stellan had taken special care as they rode along the stretch of the Pentland Firth, but they spotted no wrecked ships, and no one wandered about the woods or glens they traversed. They might as well be alone in this part of Scotland.

But that wouldn’t last. They were well into Sinclair territory by now. Perhaps as close as less than half a day’s easy ride to the Sinclair keep and the coast that lay to the north of Sutherland’s stretch of coastline.

If they didn’t find Anders and his crew soon, they’d have no choice but to inquire of the Sinclair laird. He was as likely as not to toss them into his dungeon rather than listen to them, and Sutherland would be without both heirs. Stellan could just imagine what their father would say about this. Except for the mission to help the sick bairn at MacKay, he would never have allowed the trip on the northern seas surrounding Scotland. As it was, Stellan had delivered the herbs their healer needed a day later than should have been necessary to make the trip overland. It seemed they had been ill-fated from the start.

So, where was Anders?

Tormund rode at his side, his gaze landward as Stellan’s remained seaward. The men with them did much the same, focusing on one side or the other and changing positions now and again to give their eyes a rest by looking at something different to analyze. “We’re moving faster, Stellan,” Tormund said. “Are ye in a hurry to greet Laird Sinclair?”

Stellan pulled back on his reins and slowed down a little. “Nay. And aye. We shouldha found something by now.”

“Ye think they were captured and are waiting at Sinclair for rescue?”

“I think if he’s there, by now Anders will have had his way with most of the lasses in the keep.”

Stellan still had no sense of his twin, but he refused to think that was because of anything other than distance. Any other alternatives were too awful to contemplate. Anders lost at sea along with his crew and birlinn . Nay, that could not have happened. They had to have made it as far as Sinclair Bay, which meant they were alive in the care of the Sinclair clan. Or its custody. Either way, they would be alive. And they could be rescued. Or ransomed. Or both clans could go to war over them, in which case, Stellan would happily dismantle the Sinclair keep stone by stone until he retrieved them. “We keep going. Right to Sinclair’s gate if need be.”

Tormund, silent for a moment, quietly said, “I think ye are about to get yer wish.”

Something in his voice made Stellan turn his head to look at Tormund before his gaze tracked to what had captured Tormund’s attention.

“I see. No one touch a blade,” he ordered. “Keep yer hands where they can see them.”

Sinclairs, at least ten of them, perhaps more deeper in the trees. Too many for the small Sutherland party to fight unless their lives depended on it. So far, they’d made no hostile move, but at that thought, one of their men rode forward. “Who are ye and what are ye doing on Sinclair land?”

“We’re searching the coast for a lost birlinn ,” Stellan answered, carefully not revealing his clan.

“A lost birlinn , ye say? We seem to have found one.”

Stellan’s heart lurched in his chest. “Where? With its crew?”

“No’ far from the Sinclair keep, and nay, no’ with its crew.”

Stellan squeezed his eyes shut. It was a foolish thing to do in the face of an enemy patrol, but the pain that lanced through his belly could have been caused by the man’s sword in his gut rather than his words. Anders! His mental shout was powered by the anguish and fear filling him. Where are ye, Brother?

The silence, both physical and within his mind, was unnerving.

He felt Tormund shift beside him. “Have ye seen any strangers along the coast?”

Tormund’s question dragged Stellan back from the agony within him.

“Nay.”

“Then we must continue to search,” Stellan ground out. “As soon as we find our men, or what happened to them, we’ll leave Sinclair. Peacefully.”

The Sinclair patrol chief signaled to his men. They rode slowly out of the woods and surrounded the Sutherlands. “Ye’ll come with us and speak to the laird. He’ll decide what to do with ye.”

Stellan was torn. He wanted to continue what they’d spent the last three days doing, looking for his brother and his crew, despite its futility. Becoming prisoners of Sinclair would prevent that. If Anders and his men were not there, going with the Sinclair patrol would be a mistake. But before they showed up, he’d nearly convinced himself the Sinclair keep had to be where the Sutherlands were. He glanced at Tormund, who nodded. Stellan turned back to the Sinclair scout, took a breath and said, “Aye, we’ll go with ye. We dinna want any trouble. We just want our men back.”

“Ye dinna ken if they’re even alive.”

He was right, but Stellan hated to hear the words spoken.

“How long have ye been away from the Sinclair castle?”

“Three days on patrol along Sinclair’s borders south and east,” the man answered. “We turned for home this morning, and now we’ve caught up to ye.”

Hope bloomed in Stellan’s chest. “So, they couldha been found, but ye wouldna ken it.”

He nodded. “For yer sake, I hope they have been. Let’s go.”

Stellan flicked the reins and got his horse moving, following the patrol chief, grateful that Tormund stayed by his side. The Sinclair had been cordial, but if anything changed and they had to fight, they might not win, but they’d take as many Sinclairs to hell with them as they could.

The next morning, Lady Sinclair drafted Ailsa to help her and Cook inventory the keep’s provisions. “Since we now have so many strangers with us, someone will surely come looking for them. Until then, we must feed them. And if trouble comes with their clan, we must be ready for a siege. We must have food on hand for people and animals to last several months. That means we must be certain to have a good supply of flours, grains, vegetables and the like, as well as the meat the men will bring from the hunt.”

“A siege? Truly? Why would we no’ release them?” Ailsa asked. “They’ve offered nay hostility.”

“Nay, they havena, but neither have they revealed their clan. And they are no’ like Anders, who says he canna recall his. They are hiding who they are. Why?”

“Because they want to leave without causing trouble?”

“Once they do reveal their clan, yer da willna release them. He’ll try to ransom them. That will bring their clansmen.”

Ailsa crossed her arms. “What if they dinna agree to pay a ransom? What then?”

“We must hope it doesna come to that.”

“What does Da hope to gain by antagonizing a strange clan?”

“Gold? Cattle? That birlinn they abandoned along the coast? There is much Sinclair could benefit from.”

“Or many Sinclairs could starve to death over the winter before a siege gets resolved.” Ailsa’s belly hollowed at the thought of the possible hardship facing them. “Da should talk to them, then let them go.”

Her mother ignored her. “Cook, ye ken what to do. I need a list of supplies and amounts, the status of harvesting the kitchen gardens and orchard, how long they’re likely to last. The laird has sent men out to hunt, so ye will have a good supply of meat to salt, and as long as the weather cooperates, the lads will fish. The stable master and head fisherman are aware. If trouble starts, the orchard may be denied to us since it lies outside the inner wall. ’Tis too soon to harvest much ripe fruit, damn it. Still, I hope if that wall is breached, the attackers dinna destroy the trees.”

Cook nodded, her expression grim.

Ailsa listened with dismay a heavy weight on her chest. There was so much at stake.“What else must be done to protect us?”

Lady Sinclair turned to her. “Yer da is meeting with Raghnall and the keep’s craftsmen, the blacksmith, stonemason, and such. They’ll ensure we have sufficient weapons and ironmongery on hand, and that any weak spots in the walls are repaired.” She crossed her arms, clearly worried. “We canna ken how long a siege might last. ’Twill be hard on all of us if it lasts into the winter.”

“And the men in the dungeon? Hardest of all on them?” Ailsa hated to ask the question, but the course her father seemed determined to set Sinclair on was a path that would lead, at least, to trouble. At worst, to many deaths. No wonder her mother looked fraught.

“’Twill depend on who those men are, what yer da demands of their clan, and whether their clan will negotiate for them,” Ailsa’s mother told her while Cook put her lasses to work helping with her stores. “I’m going to take one of the lads with me and count what we have in the buttery. The spirits housed there will help keep morale up, but they can also be used as weapons to drop fire on troops below our walls.”

Ailsa took Maesie out into the garden to estimate what would be ready for harvest and when while Ailsa took notes. Her mother’s words kept running through her mind. Not only were they preparing to ensure people within Sinclair’s walls survived, they could drop fire onto a clan outside. And let the men in the dungeon starve. Or worse. She’d always known such was possible, but never thought to see it happen. The reality of it made her want to weep.

“Ailsa! Are ye listening to me?” Maesie demanded, clearly cross with having to keep repeating what she told her.

“Sorry, aye. Nay. I ken we have to finish this, but I’m fashed about why. Da shoulda let those men go.”

“But he didna, so we have a job to do.”

“Aye, we do.” Ailsa prayed they never had to depend on the stores the clan had saved to get through a siege and the coming winter.