Chapter Seventeen #3
“There is that. And I was hoping that since we will pull back from aiding other clans, we might expand our crops and cattle. Maybe even purchase additional sheep. ’Tis time to progress and make our land profitable.
” Breckin had overheard his da when he’d been alive and the dreams that he’d had for the land that his grandfather had been given.
Cultivating land and animals took time and resources, and sometimes hard times hindered them.
Now with the coinage given from Eva’s da, he might be able to make some progress.
“’Tis time indeed that we consider the Buchanans before others, Laird. We should meet and make a plan when we reach home.”
“Aye, that is a fair idea. I also want to build Eva a manor home. If ye saw the home she lived in… The longhouse is but a shack compared to the luxury of her da’s home. I want to give her a better life.”
“Seems to me ye are coming to care for the lass.”
“Aye, maybe more than care, Gideon. I am not one to speak about how I feel but Eva deserves much more than I have given her.”
“Ye will rectify that, Breckin, and I have faith that she will appreciate it. She’s a kind lass, even if she was somewhat spoiled by her rich father.”
“That is the thing… Even though she had wealth, she has never used it nefariously. When I met her, she tried to aid a lad in Edinburgh who intended to thieve from her. I could not believe that she would go and search him out to help him but she did. She is unlike any woman I have ever met.”
“And ye are gladdened now that ye were forced to marry her?” Gideon flashed a wide smile and nodded.
“Aye, I certainly am.” Breckin lay upon his bedroll and quieted. He thought about how blessed he’d been to be called forth by King Alexander and forced to take Eva’s hand. At the time, he recalled being filled with angst about it, but now, he realized his good fortune.
In the morning, he opened his eyes to find most of his men moving about the camp and readying for their departure. He hastened to the nearby stream and washed. Once back at the meeting place, he took the reins of his horse from Gideon.
“Let us make haste and get home.” Breckin mounted his horse and nudged the beast forward.
Throughout the ride, he couldn’t help but recall the words he’d spoken to Gideon the night before.
Breckin was determined to make changes upon his return home.
Before the cold season came on, he wanted to send a missive to his allies letting them know that he would not be taking to travel until the spring.
If they needed aid, they’d be on their own.
Then he would meet with his clan and begin making plans for the spring planting, buying sheep and cattle, and expanding on the wealth of their land with, of course, Eva’s coin, if she was amiable.
But he was certain that she would be pleased to help the Buchanans since she was now the lady of the clan.
As they passed the blackened treeline, he let his guard down, happy to be home.
He’d only been gone for a fortnight but it felt much longer.
He missed being home, his wife, and even his wild brothers.
When he broke through the trees and saw the cottages speckled about, his chest tightened with pride.
His clansmen and women had been busy the days he was gone, preparing for the first sign of winter’s arrival.
Roofs were rethatched, repaired, and wood replaced on some cottages.
Shutters now protected homes and were already closed.
Though it wasn’t too cold yet, it would be, soon enough.
Bales of hay and sacks of grasses, clovers, legumes, and alfalfa were stacked in the stable for winter fodder for the horses.
A great wood pile lined the wall with enough to keep most hearths blazing.
Before he crossed the bridge, he thought to stop by the torch to ensure it had remained burning.
He redirected his horse and rode in that direction.
There, the flame rose steadily, motionless.
On the return to the bridge, he peered down the lane in the direction of the market and noted the denseness of the air and haziness.
Something wasn’t right and then he smelled the faint scent of smoke.
As he drew nearer, the pungent smell increased and haziness in the air irritated his eyes and made them tear up.
He rode speedily by Willa’s, past the ailing encampment, and finally reached the market.
A stall was heavily encumbered with flame, its harrowing growl burning the wood and all the contents inside.
Breckin dismounted and noticed his brothers standing amid a group of onlookers.
A group of older men held buckets and dipped them into a barrel to fill and toss at the flames.
Eventually, his soldiers reached the calamity and joined the line of men putting out the fire.
“What happened? How did the tailor’s stall become lit?”
Connor lowered his head as did Caden. Neither would answer.
“I shall tell ye, Laird, these two thought by playing at burning stuff on the ground entertainment. Aye, for they lit the ground near my stall and my hut went up like a campfire.” The tailor accused as he threw his hands in the air and marched off.
“Does he speak the truth? Did ye set his hut on fire?” Breckin didn’t have to await their answer because guilt set in their eyes and plainly on their faces.
“We shall walk back to the longhouse and ye will tell me what happened.” He turned to Master James.
“I apologize if my brothers had anything to do with this destruction. Be assured that I will see to reparations.”
“My thanks, Laird,” James said and dunked a bucket into a barrel that had been delivered to aid in putting out the fire.
Along the lane, Breckin didn’t speak. He waited for his brothers to offer their excuses.
Caden spoke first, “Breckin, brother… Laird, we did not mean to set fire to the tailor’s hut.”
“We had a piece of glass that we found in Milady’s belongings and we took it. She does not know that we have it. We used it to burn things and—”
“Ye know it was wrong of ye to take something that does not belong to ye.”
Both his brothers nodded.
“We did not realize the fire would catch so quickly, and well, there was fabric on the floor inside his hut that caught before we could stomp it out,” Connor offered.
“I am highly disappointed in both of ye, so much so that I cannot even find an acceptable punishment. In time, I shall think of something. Meanwhile, ye will be forbidden to leave the longhouse and ye will not be permitted to ride your horses. I will not see ye outside until I decide what to do with ye.” Breckin had reached the bridge. “What were ye doing at the market?”
Caden answered, “We were awaiting Milady.”
“Eva was there? I did not see her.” Breckin thought to return to find her, but since he was already at the bridge, he decided to get his horse settled, check in with the watch, and gain a report from Aymer.
“Before ye flee, I want ye to understand something. The reason I forbid ye to train fully is that ye have not proved yourself yet. Instead of playing at this silliness, ye should be practicing your swordsmanship. Neither of ye are proficient yet with the sword, bow, or daggers. Ye need to put your hearts into it. Unless ye do not want to be a Buchanan soldier?” Breckin posed his question to them and stared hard, waiting for one of them to speak.
“We do, Laird, we want to be akin to ye, and be fierce and strong,” Caden said.
“There is much more to warring, brothers, than being proficient with the sword and such. But it helps to keep ye from being killed. Ye have never stepped foot on a field soaked with the blood of your brethren, ever had to carry your comrade’s bloody body home, witness limbs being torn from one’s body.
Ye learn, brothers, not to let death enter your heart.
Until ye mature enough to handle such atrocities, ye must train and be ready to face the hardships of war.
On the morrow, ye will work with me and I shall get ye readied. ”
Both his brothers smiled widely.
“Before da passed, he made me vow to make ye into warriors like him…like me, and ye have yet to show such ability. Show me that I can trust ye and that ye are mature enough to be Buchanan warriors.”
“We will, Breckin, we will show ye and prove we are worthy,” Connor said.
“Go on and get back to the longhouse. Ye will not leave it until I permit ye to do so. And tell Eva that I will come as soon as I am able. I must handle some clan matters.” Breckin waved them away.
He sighed wearily because that talk had been long in coming.
Now, he had to make good on his promise to his brothers.
It was time that he ceased ignoring them and forgoing the promises made to his da.
He needed to be better at guiding his brothers and making them what his father had made of him—an honorable, but fierce Buchanan warrior.