Chapter 18
18
D amon let out a slow breath as Sebastian and Tristan deposited their ledgers in front of him.
“Me Laird, if I may?” Tristan asked in a completely different tone.
Ryder’s eyes met Damon’s just over the man’s shoulder, and Damon nodded his assurance.
The change in Tristan’s stance was shocking, but Damon was too frustrated to show any sign of appreciating it. Save for a single arch of his eyebrow.
“I hope ye ken that I’m nae necessarily against the festival. I just try to act on behalf of the people. It’s me duty.”
“He’s a thorn in everyone’s side, Me Laird,” Sebastian chimed in.
Damon couldn’t tell if Sebastian was saying it in jest or if it was a true insult. Tristan was supposed to be the man’s future son-in-law, and it seemed odd not to at least have a good rapport.
Convincing the lot of them to agree to the Market Day Festival had been no easy feat, but Damon had done it. Whether or not Tristan was on his side, it didn’t matter now. Still, the weight of the clan’s safety sat heavily on his shoulders. There was much to be done.
“All good, Gunn. All good. Though I willnae hesitate to remind ye of the line if ye cross it again. I willnae be disrespected. Ye can disagree and probe for more details, but ye cannae show me any less respect than ye normally would—than ye are even now, for example,” Damon warned, which happened to be enough of a knocking for Tristan to relent and bow his head.
“It wasnae me intent. I get passionate when it comes to the lives and livelihoods of our clansfolk. I was appointed to this position to ensure that nay more frivolity would rule the clan.”
“I ken that well enough—I’ve studied all of the ledgers. Ye have done well, notwithstandin’ everything else.”
“He’d do well nae to disrespect his Laird in front of the council next time—the gall!” Sebastian scoffed, raising his cane in accusation.
Ryder moved quickly, letting Sebastian’s cane fall into the palm of his hand before it struck Tristan.
Damon glared at the older man. “There will be nay more of that, Sebastian. I willnae stand for any kind of disrespect. Whether it is against meself or others. That should be well understood.”
It looked like Sebastian wanted to say something more, but he bit his tongue and snatched his cane from Ryder’s grip.
Tristan excused himself from the room hurriedly, and Sebastian followed him out, hot on his heels with sharp insults.
“Christ! Marryin’ into that family seems like a chore, does it nae?”
“Tristan is a strong leader. A son of Branloch. He’s good for the council.”
“Aye, but he was actin’ like a pished bampot in here.”
Ryder scoffed. “Aye, he was. Ye’ll find out that’s just how he is. Growin’ up with him, I ken he didnae mean any harm by his speech. Passionate, that one.”
Damon looked over to the door, still able to see the men as they retreated down the corridor, hurling insults at each other. “Passionate.”
“Believe it or nae, I ken him well.”
“Would he ever betray the clan?”
“The man stayed on Magnus’s council even when he was publically humiliated by him.”
“Elaborate.”
“Tristan was brought out in the village to stand in the pillory for three days once!” Ryder said, laughing coldly at the memory.
“What for?”
“Doin’ precisely what he did to ye in here today… only to a much lesser degree.”
“For disagreein’ with Magnus?”
“Aye,” Ryder uttered, all hint of mirth drained from his voice. “Dark times, Damon. Magnus was our hell on earth.”
I wonder what else has happened to the councilmen. What else they’re expectin’ of me, given their experience with Magnus.
Another long, slow breath and Damon pushed himself to his feet.
“I’ll meet ye downstairs,” Ryder said firmly, before he left.
Damon gathered the ledgers and took them to his study before stepping into the courtyard moments later, where Ryder was already waiting with their horses saddled and ready.
He swung himself up into the saddle with practiced ease, adjusting his grip on the reins as he nodded to his second-in-command. “Let’s ride out. I want to check on the border patrols.”
Ryder smirked knowingly. “Aye, best to keep the lads on their toes. Some of ‘em start slackin’ on the job when they think ye’re too busy with council nonsense.”
Damon snorted. “Then let’s remind them who’s watchin’.”
The ride out was brisk, the crisp morning air biting his skin as they left the keep behind, heading toward the borders of the McCallum lands.
I should really ask Lilith if she has any ideas for where we should hold the festival. She kens this land pretty well, after all.
The first patrol they encountered was stationed near a dense cluster of pines. The guard, a broad-shouldered man named Hamish, straightened the moment he spotted them, his expression growing serious.
“Me Laird?” he greeted with a short bow of his head. “All quiet here. Nay sign of trouble since the last report.”
Damon studied him for a moment before nodding. “Good. And the men? They stayin’ sharp?”
Hamish hesitated for only a breath. “Aye, though some are restless. They hear whispers, rumors that the merchants are stirrin’ against ye.”
Stirrin’ against me? I didnae hear that…
Damon’s jaw tightened. “Let them whisper. We’ll be ready if they do more than that.”
Hamish nodded, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “Aye, Me Laird. We’ll be ready.”
Satisfied, Damon urged his horse forward, continuing their route along the border.
“Ye said ye grew up here, Ryder?”
“Aye, since I was a young lad.”
“Ye ken these lands well?”
“I do. I pride meself on it, actually. Taught most of these men all they ken about it.”
“Good man. I can see the way the men respect ye. Ye have done quite well in such a short time. How’s Finley been?”
“He kept a close eye on Lilith and Willow, as he always has, but he kens his place. Volunteers to ride out to these posts often. I rely on the man meself. He taught me everything I ken, ye see?”
“Good man,” Damon repeated, this time meant for Finley.
The breeze caressed his face, and he was instantly reminded of running in Brahanne lands with his brother and parents. How carefree his childhood was. He envied the lad he once was.
“Did ye ever come out here with Willow and Lilith? Was Magnus ever around to explore? Was there any fun?”
“There was rarely any fun. The twins got in trouble with Magnus when they laughed too loudly or left their dolls lyin’ around, or if they spilled anything.”
“Ye cannae be serious.”
“He was eight years older and already hated them. He gave nay grace where young children need it. The girls were forced to grow up too fast.”
“So, nay fun at all?”
“ Some fun, where they could have it. They would venture into Branloch often. I said that before. But never anywhere where Magnus might pull out a scope and see them. Never in these parts. Always hidden, as if they dinnae exist.”
Damon tightened his grip on his horse’s reins. “What a tragedy.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”
“For ye as well, lad. Ye were a child back then.”
“Sure, I was, but I didnae kill their maither, nor was I any threat, as I was… Anyway…”
“Aye, I ken. Ye still grew up here—a boy around Magnus’s age.”
“Older, actually.”
“Nay—really?”
“I was six years his senior, but he was the heir, so that gave him at least… oh, eight years on me as well,” Ryder joked.
The two men chuckled.
“Ye are a good man, Ryder. I dinnae ken if I’ve said this yet, and if I have, it hasnae been enough, but thank ye. For lookin’ out for Lilith.”
Ryder nodded his head slightly in gratitude, and the two cantered on to the next post.
When they came across another pair of guards near the river bend, one of them—a younger lad named Callum—looked particularly eager for their attention.
“Me Laird! Ryder!” Callum puffed out his chest, standing as straight as a tree. “We spotted a group of travelers near the eastern border this mornin’. They didnae cause trouble, but they were askin’ questions. Wanted to ken about the new Laird.”
Damon exchanged a look with Ryder before focusing on the lad. “And what did ye tell them?”
Callum swallowed hard. “Only that McCallum lands are well protected. That our Laird doesnae take kindly to folk pryin’ where they shouldnae.”
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Damon’s lips. “Good lad.”
Ryder chuckled. “Ach, look at that. He’s puffin’ up even more now.”
Callum flushed but grinned, clearly pleased with the praise.
Damon gave the guards a final word of encouragement before riding off again, his mind already shifting to another matter—the rock face where he’d found the twinflower. He needed to see it again.
He urged his horse on without another word, and Ryder followed closely behind.
When they reached the base of the rock face, Damon dismounted, scanning the area with sharp eyes. Ryder followed suit, rubbing his jaw as he observed his Laird’s intent focus.
“Ye’re thinkin’ about the attack?” he asked.
“Aye,” Damon murmured. “Something’s nae right about it. Feels like there should be more to find.”
With that, he started his climb up in search of something… anything. He combed through the underbrush, checked the ground for disturbances, and examined the rock face itself. But nothing stood out—nothing except for the cavern he hadn’t noticed before.
Did he hide there last night? Was he this close?
Damon stilled, his gaze locking onto the dark opening just beyond a jagged outcrop. Even from where he stood, he could see the faint glimmer of something inside. His mind churned with possibilities.
Then, it struck him.
He’d bring Lilith here. Make a night of it. He didn’t have anything planned for night five anyway, and this would be perfect. He would let her be the one to discover it first, though, to explore what lay beyond the entrance. She hadn’t had the freedom to roam as he had, not with Magnus as a brother. She’d been bound by duty, by expectations, by the weight of her burdensome demons. But here, with him, she could be free.
A slow smile crept across his face.
“Ye look like a man with a plan,” Ryder noted, eyeing him suspiciously.
Damon smirked. “Aye, perhaps I am.”
He strode back down the rock face toward the horses.
They mounted their steeds once more and started the ride back to the keep. The air had warmed slightly, the noon sun burning off the morning chill. Ryder rode in silence for a while before he finally spoke again.
“Ye ken, I’ve been thinkin’ for a while that Lilith might carry some guilt with her over things that happened in her childhood.”
Damon glanced at him, his brow furrowed. “Why do ye say that?”
Ryder exhaled slowly. “I grew up with them, basically. I heard what was said when they didnae think anyone was around.”
“What was said?”
“Just odd things she’s said over the years. Never spoke of her life like it had a future, but more so like she was trudgin’ on toward the end. Never softened, only hardened with time—though I think I was one of the only ones to notice that about her facade.” He paused, his expression darkening. “Me and Ariah, of course.”
“Always figured Magnus had somethin’ to do with it.”
“Och, aye, he did.”
Damon’s grip on the reins tightened. “Tell me.”
Ryder hesitated, then relented. “Magnus blamed their maither’s death on them, ye ken?”
Halting his horse, Damon turned to look at Ryder as if not comprehending what he had just said.
“Aye, he told them they were the reason she died. Said they came into this world as demons, and that’s why he had to punish them.” Ryder’s voice was quiet now, edged with something close to regret.
“That’s evil, though nae necessarily out of character. How young were they?”
“Old enough to understand and carry that guilt around. Willow was a bit more free with her thinking, so it didnae quite affect her as much as it did Lilith.”
“What of their faither? Was he really that out of it nae to be there for his children?”
“Their faither was barely there. We all ken what happened to him after his wife’s death, but the only time he ever gave even Magnus attention was when he hurt the twins. Did nothin’ to truly stop Magnus, so the girls bore the brunt of it.”
Damon felt something sharp and dangerous coil in his chest.
“On some of the nights when they successfully hid from him,” Ryder continued, “they ate like kings. But most nights? They barely ate. They’re both so slight now because they didnae get the food they needed growin’ up. Smith tried to help where she could, but Magnus beat her sometimes too.”
Damon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Smith… she was their housekeeper even then, aye? What of their nursemaid? Surely someone was around to ensure their well-being?”
“Nay, Laird McCallum didnae want to be tempted by any other woman—it was lucky that he kept Smith. After his maither’s death, every female servant was let go,” Ryder said sadly.
“But nae Smith? Was she nae temptin’ enough for him? That’s just ridiculous.”
“It was more of an act of loyalty. She has served the McCallums for so long. She will be the last, as she’s unwed, but she’ll keep her position until her death, to be sure. She’s too stubborn to be the first of her line to leave.”
Damon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he let the story settle into his bones, filling in the gaps, painting a picture of the woman he’d married. Lilith—his fierce, defiant, beautiful wife—had endured far more than she’d ever let on.
Learnin’ more about her is like a double-edged sword. I want to ken more, but it’s just pissin’ me off.
He let out a huff of frustration before he urged his horse into a gallop, and Ryder nudged his own horse to follow.
As they reached the keep, Damon dismounted and handed his reins to a stable hand. Then, with a newfound determination, he turned to the housekeeper.
“Smith,” he called.
The woman turned toward him, ever loyal, ever watchful.
“Gather some things for Lady McCallum. We’re goin’ on an evening stroll.”
Smith arched an eyebrow but nodded. “Me Laird, there are visitors.”
That gave him pause, and he knew instantly that the evening he had planned for himself and his wife would have to wait.
“What kind of visitors?”
Ryder came to stand beside him, ready to take the lead should the need arise.
“Riders from Monroich. In the meeting hall.”
Damon cast a glance at his man, raising an eyebrow. “Could be interesting. Rouse Finley and meet me in there.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”
Damon strode past Smith toward the meeting hall, tucking the adventure he had planned for himself and Lilith away for another day.