Page 15 of Laird of Sighs (His Highland Heart #5)

CHAPTER 15

A nders could see some of the display of men and arms on the Sinclair battlement from his window. The wall towered above him by enough to block his view of the forest beyond, so he couldn’t see what had Sinclair up in arms. But he didn’t have to see to know. Sutherland had arrived.

From his vantage point, it was impossible to know how long it would be before the fate of the men in Sinclair custody would be decided. There was certainly the potential for a grand battle, but he knew his father and he’d met the Sinclair, so he hoped he was right that both men would try to negotiate and avoid war.

Boden was a problem. How much would he affect his father’s thinking? Anders worried that Sinclair might think he could win by, as he’d threatened, starting to kill his prisoners one by one, thinking Sutherland would cave in after a few weeks and turn over the ransom. But Anders knew that would set off Sutherland, and both clans would get the battle they hoped to avoid. It all depended on patience and how much influence the Sinclair’s women had over him. Sutherland travelers had come to Sinclair seeking hospitality. Not this.

Sutherland would be setting up for the siege no one wanted but everyone expected. Did the men in the dungeon know? Perhaps Ailsa or Tasgall would tell them, but perhaps not. Unless they overheard conversation between guards, they’d remain ignorant until a battle began.

Tasgall was likely on the wall. Anders didn’t know where Ailsa might be at a time like this, but he wanted her safe, wherever that was. He wasn’t sure how Stellan would react now that he’d had time to think about Sinclair’s threat to their men. With Sinclair on guard against forces outside its walls, that could set off an ill-conceived escape attempt that would get Sutherlands killed.

Still, if he was right about what Maesie had implied, all they had to do was get outside the outer orchard wall. The forest loomed closer there. With less likelihood of being spotted, especially if they could make it out at night, they would stand a much better chance of reaching Sutherland’s lines alive. He had no idea how to accomplish such a feat with so many Sutherland men at risk, and all of them save himself in the dungeon. It would take help from at least one Sinclair, and now that he was known to be a Sutherland, he wasn’t sure whom he could trust. Not even Ailsa.

It might take too much time, but he knew how to get down to the beach. Were any of their Rose or Brodie allies sailing the area around Sinclair Bay? If he and his men could launch the Sutherland birlinn , they’d have help just offshore. Getting across the open glen to the woods, though closer, might be too dangerous.

Somehow, they would figure a way out and how to do it. Or die trying.

Anders wanted Ailsa, not war. How could he convince her to trust him, or to help him escape with the rest of the Sutherlands, go home with him and marry him there, all without risking her life?

“We are Sutherland’s first line of defense,” Mariota told the couple sitting around the table in the laird’s solar soon after the midday meal. They were parents of one of the lasses interested in training in archery. Brighde and Nan, two of her best friends at Sutherland, were also present. They were both team leaders and trainers who had learned their archery skills from her. “Any young lass may train with us. They will be posted on the battlements where they will be as safe as can be in an attack against us, but able to help defend the keep.”

“I ken ye began training lasses soon after ye arrived here,” the mother said, “but I dinna think ’tis the right thing for a lass to do. Certainly no’ my Daviana,” she added with a snort.

“Now, dear,” her husband began, but a glare from his wife silenced him.

Mariota traded a glance with Nan. Their daughter had approached Nan about joining the training. She wanted to help defend her home and her people, like her friends were learning to do. The younger members of the clan were well aware that the laird and his sons were away from the keep and there was trouble with another clan.

“Training gives the younger ones a sense of safety, and of being ready to contribute to the success of the clan,” Nan said. “They may never fire an arrow at an enemy or while hunting for game to feed their family. But they will be ready if they are needed. Yer daughter wants that same chance. And because several of her friends have already begun, she kens well what the training involves. She wants to be with her friends, no’ be left out, or looked down upon because she isna doing the same as they are.”

“Surely there are plenty of other lads and even lasses for this,” the woman objected.

“Aye, there are, and many of them are already training. Just as the lads also train in hand-to-hand fighting and with other weapons. It makes them stronger and more confident. This does much the same for the lasses.”

“’Twould be good for Daviana, dear,” the husband ventured. This time, the wife didn’t glare at him, merely glanced his way then back to her hands, frowning.

“I wouldna bring this decision to ye,” Mariota continued, “save that Daviana herself asked Nan if she could train her. She’s a good lass. We would be grateful to have her join in.”

The mother’s expression softened. She looked up, first to her husband, then to Nan and Mariota. “Very well, we will try this. If at any time Daviana changes her mind and wishes to cease?—”

“She may do so, of course,” Mariota told her. “Why don’t ye go give yer daughter the good news. She can join the other new lasses in a beginning session with Nan in an hour.”

“Today?”

“Aye, there’s nay better time to learn than the present.”

The couple stood and the woman nodded, her expression, if not enthusiastic about the idea, at least accepting. “Very well. She will be there.” They left the solar.

Mariota sat back with a sigh.

Brighde smiled. “I can see that ye were a good laird by how ye dealt with that mother’s concerns.”

“I wasna laird long enough to be good or bad. That was simply acknowledging her fears and showing her the respect a caring parent deserves.”

“Whatever ’twas, I’m glad it worked,” Nan told her. “Daviana was most eager.”

“I hope she’s still eager after she develops some blisters and scrapes.”

All three chuckled at that.

One of the guards poked his head in the door. “Another missive, Lady Sutherland.”

Mariota held out her hand. “Thank ye.” She cracked the seal and read, then nodded. “All is well so far.” She set it aside. “I got one yesterday from Seamus with the same news. He and his men arrived and were deployed with Sutherland. All is quiet. Sutherland and Sinclair have traded missives, and there has been some shouting over the wall, but no violence. Yet. That gives me hope that all this will soon be over. Sinclair is still going alone. There has been nay sign of Orkneymen or Norse ships.”

“When will ye respond to the Sutherland?”

“I’ll write a reply when ye leave for training. I need to advise him that Brodie has sent men here, and that Cameron is home and will remain for the duration to be the senior Rose and to help me. I havena discussed with him what he would do about Rose if the worst came to pass. His responsibilities lie there, no’ here. He is nay longer heir to his father and brothers.” Her son was. Cameron knew that as well as she did. “We will need to have that conversation at some point. Since he just arrived, I dinna want to make him feel unwelcome.”

“That will complicate everything,” Nan said, frowning. “What would his position be, in that case?”

“He could become regent for my son.”

“Why would he?” Brighde asked. “He has a smart former laird for a sister-in-law. Ye are capable of doing what needs to be done.”

“I’m sure we’ll discuss that. But I hope he will also foster my son, both sons if the bairn I carry is another lad. I imagine Mary Rose will be glad to have him. Or them. I dinna wish to create a rift with Cameron.”

“It sounds as though ye are planning well,” Nan told her and took her hand, knowing how sad it made Mariota to look toward the day not only when Stellan might not be there, but her son as well, sent away to foster.

“Ladies,” a male voice said.

Mariota looked up and fought to keep her expression neutral. “Cameron, come in. We were just finishing.” Had he heard them talking about him? It pained her to look at him. His resemblance wasn’t as close to Stellan’s as Anders’ was, but he was cut from the same cloth. From the back, or in dim light, she might mistake him for either of his older twin brothers.

Nan and Brighde stood to leave. “’Tis good to see ye, cousin,” Nan told him, “despite the circumstances.”

“Aye, and good to see ye, too.” He waited while the two women left, then entered the solar. “Mari, I need a moment of yer time.”

Cam took a seat across from Mariota. “I want to send a missive advising father to withdraw and leave the fight to his men. He should be here, no’ risking his neck in Sinclair.”

“Ye do ken yer da, aye? He’s exactly where he believes he needs to be, negotiating laird-to-laird with the Sinclair.”

Cam nodded, his jaw clenching and unclenching a few times before he spoke. “I ken it willna work, but someone needs to talk sense to him. Aye he’s the Sutherland, but he’s also of an age where he shouldna be camped out in the woods in enemy territory for weeks—even months. What will a winter in those conditions do to him?”

Mariota shook her head. “I ken ye love him, but ye dare no’ send it, Cameron. ’Twill make him more determined to stay, and it might lead to impulsive and unwise action. Trust yer da,” she told him. “In my estimation—and experience, he is a truly wise man.”

“Mine, as well. Still, I canna help thinking Sutherland would be better served to have him home.” He paused and held up a hand. “No’ that I dinna think ye capable. Clearly ye are. I see how ye are preparing for trouble to come here, and I am impressed. I just dinna want to be the last man in my family of my generation left alive—or without Da if aught happens to the twins. Yer son is years away from stepping into his grandfather’s and father’s place. And my life is now at Rose.”

Mariota pressed her lips together. Any response she might make would sound dismissive, or even disparaging. Cameron was trying to help. She tamped down on her irritation and spoke. “I would like to send Beathan to ye when ’tis time for him to foster away. If ye and Mary are willing, of course.”

Cameron smiled. “We would be honored, and would take care of him as our own.”

“I hoped ye would agree. When he returns home, Stellan will be happy to hear that is settled.”

“May that day be soon,” Cameron said and stood to go.

“One more thing,” Mariota said, stopping him before he stepped away.

“Aye?”

“I appreciate yer counsel, Brother, while we are without yer da and my husband. Thank ye for coming to help us.”

Cameron studied her for a moment, then his lips lifted in a grin. “I see. Putting me in my place, are ye, Sister? Very well. I ken my role and I accept it. Ye have only to ask and I will give ye as much sage advice as I can muster.”

Mariota rewarded him with a grin of her own, relieved that he hadn’t taken offense. “We understand each other.”

He gave her a quick bow and left the solar.

Mariota watched him go, letting her imagination play with the notion that he was Stellan. It was easy to do. Their resemblance was strong. But no man was like her Stellan. She hoped he’d be home soon.

Anders was of two minds about his new accommodation. He was happy to be with his twin and their men, but unhappy about being behind bars. Sinclair had effectively pulled his teeth. He could no longer discern what was going on in the keep, nor could he keep the captive Sutherlands informed and ready to move if a chance presented itself. And it was cold. Ailsa had provided blankets and Maighread had insisted Anders have several more. But there was no warming hearth in the space, only torchlight to provide a meager source of heat and light, and fewer of those since the siege started. Worse, save for one, those torches were removed at night to the area where the guards stayed.

Sinclair had made it clear it wasn’t willing to negotiate the ransom demand except to increase it, since he now knew he held the Sutherland twins. Anders feared they were in for a long and hungry stay at Sinclair. He worried that his men, and the men who came with Stellan, would be sacrificed if food stores got too low. Why feed enemy clansmen ye didn’t need when ye had yer enemy’s most precious pair in your hands?

He couldn’t fault the logic, but it kept him up at night. Ailsa hoped things would never go that far, but he could see doubt in her eyes when she visited, and the beginning twinges of fear that all of this would not be over soon.

It made him love her all the more. Whether she feared for her people or his—or both—it showed that she truly cared about those around her. And the fact that she spent every spare moment with him, no matter how exhausted she was, warmed his heart. He wanted her to rest, but even more, he wanted her with him.

“I’ve time to sit with ye a wee,” she told him after she showed up unexpectedly with a basket of apples for the men on the morning after he’d been moved here. Tasgall stood beyond her shoulder as she passed them out, then kept his distance when she approached Anders and handed him apples for him and Stellan. So, a guard presence was still required, but at least the guard was one of the few Sinclairs he counted as a friend. “Murdo may come down, too. Dinna he and Tomas make quite the pair? If they ever talk about anything other than fishing, it’s sailing or sea currents or the weather. Ye’d think they never spent any time on dry land at all.”

Both Anders and Tasgall chuckled at that. Stellan smiled when Anders passed him one of the apples, but remained on his bench, alone with his thoughts.

The truth was that Murdo didn’t have much to do since it wasn’t safe to take Sinclair ships out to fish in their bay with Clan Rose patrolling the sea just beyond it. Talking fishing seemed to cheer them and others in the group as well.

Ailsa whispered, “How are ye? I’m so sorry Da insisted on moving ye here.”

“Well enough,” Anders told her. He didn’t want to worry her. “’Tis good to be with family and friends. The more we talk, the more I remember.”

“Ye’ll remember best when ye can return home,” she said, glancing around, then turned to meet his gaze with hers. “ I want to help, I want ye out of here, and all yer men. Safely.”

“I dinna want ye to take any risks,” he said, frowning. “Yer father …”

“If ’tis done well, he will never ken who is responsible.”

“’Tis too dangerous, lass. I canna let ye do anything that will jeopardize ye.”

“Ye have nay choice, Anders. Ye will need help to get free of Sinclair.”

“Aye, but no’ ye. Someone else. Murdo, or even Tasgall, if ye think they can be trusted.”

“I wouldna have brought them to meet ye if I dinna believe they could be.”

Anders reached through the bars and lightly stroked her cheek. “If only ye wished …”

She leaned her head into his hand and wrapped hers around his. “What? If only I wished what?”

“Never mind, lass.” Anders gestured with the apple still in his other hand. “Do ye need help with the harvest? I can think of more than a dozen here who would enjoy a day in the orchard.”

“And out of the dungeon. Aye, they would. I’ll speak to Cook and see if she can convince Raghnall to allow them to help.”

“If a few of his men are there to ensure the work gets done, why no’?” Anders mused aloud.

How many guards would Raghnall insist on? And would Raghnall agree to devote men to guard them when he had to keep sufficient men posted to watch the force outside Sinclair walls?

A few men could be overpowered. Or he might instead tell Cook rather than having to stand guard while their prisoners did the work, his men could do it without the Sutherlands’ help. But would they? Aye, if it meant fresh fruit for the table and sweets made from the rest of the late harvest to sustain the clan a while longer, they would.

“Have ye a story for us?” Anders finally asked, discouraged at the turn of his thoughts.

Ailsa let go of his hand and he watched her with sadness as he withdrew his inside the iron bars.

“I do.”

She turned away from him, and he wondered how many more times she would do so before he was ransomed. Or before it became necessary to help him escape to save his life, and she watched him walk away from Sinclair before turning away from him forever.

He forced himself to set aside those thoughts and watch her.

“Are ye ready for a new tale?”

A chorus of ayes answered her.

“Verra well. Do ye ken the tale of the Dwarfie Stane on Hoy?”

“Nay, tell us,” one of the men replied.

She smiled. “’Tis said ’twas the home of giants.”

Anders soon lost the thread of the tale, but didn’t care. He could hear her voice and see the magic she wove for his men. She had begun to regale the group with tales she’d learned during visits to Orkney, so each time she came, she told a new one.

Anders’ heart swelled every time he watched the way she did what she could for his men. Food was being rationed, but she snuck down extras when she could, like apples as they ripened. He knew her largesse couldn’t go on for long, but it impressed him that she tried, and that she still cared enough about him and his men to see to their comfort when she could.

While the rest focused on Ailsa, Anders and Stellan talked quietly. “Ye have strong feelings for that lass. I can feel them. Our twin connection becomes more intense the longer we are together,” Stellan told him.

“Proximity does seem to fortify it, but so does powerful emotion,” Anders reminded him.

Stellan nodded. “Do ye remember finding me after Alber MacKay nearly killed me?”

Anders thought for a moment, picturing seeing his twin on the ground, bleeding. “Aye. Yer emotions were strong enough for both of us that day.”

“If we are separated again, we’ll at least have that connection for comfort.”

“That is nay a comfort I want to need,” Anders said.

Stellan studied Tasgall and the two other Sinclairs in the dungeon with him. “I’ve gotten friendly with a few Sinclair guards as well as Ailsa’s friends. Despite the hardship of the siege, I see their sympathies growing for the Sutherlands in their care.”

“They are good people,” Anders agreed.

“But they are Sinclairs,” Stellan had said quietly. “I am no’ foolish enough to think they would betray their clan and help us escape.”

Had Stellan heard what Ailsa offered? Did that make Anders a fool? He had pinned his hopes on that very thing.

“They have the same concern we have about starting a clan war. If we were no’ here, there would be naught to fight over.”

“Except perhaps one left-behind Sutherland birlinn, ” Stellan groused.

Anders grinned at that, glad to see that his humor relieved Stellan somewhat.

Tasgall approached them. “Ye might like to ken that along with the MacKays already here, Clan Rose warriors have been spotted flanking the Sutherlands outside our walls.”

Stellan nodded. “Does that concern ye?”

“Truthfully, I hope their presence brings a quicker end to the siege. I will deny saying this, but if it convinces the laird that he canna win and he will release ye, their presence is welcome.” He nodded, then moved away to watch Ailsa tell the rest of her story.

Stellan and Anders exchanged a look. Their allies had arrived. Things were going to change. If only they knew how. “’Twould be good if Tasgall was right,” Anders said. “And if his laird willna back down, he decided to help us.”

Stellan nodded. “But we canna count on that. If Tasgall does as ye suggest, he could be executed as a traitor.”

“Aye, but I worry how long the Sinclair will wait to start killing us, one by one, as he threatened, to hurry things along.”