Chapter Twenty
The Village of Blairgowrie
Several days on the road and Cam hadn’t had much contact with Isadora.
Unfortunately, Cam’s horse seemed very interested in Isadora’s mare, and the little horse was quite frightened of the big-boned warmblood. Therefore, the horses were kept separate at all times, even at night when they stopped to sleep.
Because the weather had turned bitter, Niall had decided that his daughter should sleep in an inn nightly.
While Isadora enjoyed a roof over her head and a fire in the hearth, Niall, his sons, and Cam had slept in the livery with the horses, enduring freezing temperatures and uncomfortable conditions.
All of this kept Cam separated from Isadora and that only made his guilt with the situation grow worse.
But perhaps it was for the best.
It gave him time to think, to try to push aside his feelings for her to focus on the job he had to do. But the combination of being torn between his sense of vengeance and his feelings for Isadora, and the return to the Highlands in general, had done something to his mood.
Isadora and her father watched him with some concern, but the truth was that they had no idea what was causing Cam’s sullenness. At least, Niall didn’t, but Isadora suspected. She knew the return to the destruction of his village must have been weighing heavily on him.
On the eve of the last day of their journey, it began to rain, pelting them with freezing water, and Niall finally decided to pay for all of them to stay in an inn. Perhaps that would brighten the mood of his surly new warrior.
The inn was called The Fair Stag, situated on the edge of the larger village of Blairgowrie. The place smelled like a horde of unwashed bodies, but it was warm and dry, which made it the perfect place to stop for the night.
As they entered the inn, Cam took charge of where the group sat.
The peaceful smithy from Netherton became a no-nonsense bully when the mood struck him, and at the moment, the mood was struck.
He was wet from the rain, and wanted near the fire, so he found a table occupied by three travelers and essentially threw the men aside, confiscating the table in the name of the lady.
Being that a woman was involved, the three travelers didn’t fight back, but they grumbled as they walked away, looking for another table. Isadora watched with big eyes as they moved to the other side of the common room.
“Ye dinna have tae throw men from their table, Cam,” she said quietly. “We could have found another suitable table. There are a few around the room.”
Cam wouldn’t look at her as he pulled out a chair. “Sit,” he commanded. “This table is nearer the hearth and considering there are those of us who havena known a fire or warmth the past few days, I think we deserve it.”
Isadora didn’t argue with him. She simply sat down in the chair he indicated while he pulled up another chair from another table so there were enough chairs to go around. Niall sat next to his daughter, with Cam on her left, and Ossian and Ewan across the table.
The brothers began pulling off their cloaks, moving to hang them on the pegs on the wall near the hearth so they would dry out. Ewan rubbed his hands together, clearly eager and happy to be in a warm shelter.
“Where’s the wench?” he demanded, pounding on the table. “I need food and drink!”
Niall frowned at his behavior but Isadora was more vocal. “Hush, Ewie,” she scolded softly. “Ye behave like an animal. Quiet yerself.”
Ewan didn’t like being reprimanded by his younger sister but he kept his mouth shut.
He looked around for the serving wench, who was tending to other customers.
Impatiently, he thumped on the tabletop, looking around the room, inspecting the various patrons.
This far north, they were mostly merchants and perhaps a few clansmen passing through.
No one very interesting. But then he turned his attention to Cam.
He was the most interesting thing in the room.
Ewan had spent several days riding with a surly bear of a man.
He wasn’t even a fully fledged warrior, although Ewan was forced to admit his skills were impressive.
To take down The Beast, they had to be. He didn’t even realize that he’d met Cam, years ago, when he’d helped ambush him in the Vale of Demons; Isadora never told him, so as far as Ewan was concerned, Cam was just some brute from the Highlands who now belonged to Clan Keith.
“I was told ye were a smithy before ye went tae The Cal,” Ewan said, eyeing Cam from across the table. “Da says ye’re from Netherton.”
Cam, who had been in the process of removing his cloak to dry, didn’t respond right away.
He’d had barely any conversation with either brother on the trip north and that had been by his own choice.
He didn’t want to socialize with the enemy and he didn’t want to get to know them, on any level, but at the moment he was a rather captive audience.
He didn’t have a choice.
“I was,” he said. “And I am.”
Ewan was expecting more of an answer. “Ye’re tae come and live with us, but no one knows much about ye,” he said.
When Niall tried to hush his bold son, Ewan waved him off.
“’Tis true. He’s not said two words tae Ossian and me this entire journey.
Are we not good enough tae speak with? Yer fealty is with my father now and when he dies, it’ll be me leading the clan.
I want tae know about a man we are supposed tae trust.”
Isadora jumped in. “Ye dunna demand tae know of a man like that,” she said. “Have ye no manners? Ask him politely and he may answer, but if he doesna wish tae speak, ye dunna press him. He’s come tae help us against the Lindsay, but he’s not yer servant. Ye dunna make demands of the man.”
“Oh? And what do ye know about him?”
She knew far more than she was willing to tell at the moment. “I know his name and I know he’s a man of honor,” she snapped. “’Tis all I need tae know and it is all ye need tae know as well.”
Ewan wasn’t satisfied. He sat back in his chair, eyeing Cam, who was staring at him in return. It wasn’t a challenging stare, but it wasn’t one of welcome, either. Ewan sighed sharply.
“Then I’ll ask ye nicely,” he said. “Would ye tell us of yerself?”
Cam thought about refusing but if his plans against the Keith were to know fruition, he would have to make some effort in gaining their trust. He couldn’t do that if he was silent and sullen.
Soon enough, they would figure out that something was wrong and he didn’t want that.
Therefore, he forced himself to answer the brash young Highlander.
“I was a smithy,” he said. “My grandfather was a smithy, also.”
Ewan was interested, but only because he was nosy, not because he was politely curious. “Were ye there when Netherton was burned?”
That wasn’t the direction Cam expected the conversation to go and he struggled not to stiffen. Wendell had said that he was good at holding his temper and he was.
It was oh so difficult.
“Nay,” he said evenly. “I was at a smelter in Brechin, purchasing ingots of iron for my trade. I was returning home when I saw the flames and smelled the smoke.”
“Ye had family in Netherton, did ye?”
Cam stopped short of telling him that it was none of his affair. Mercifully, Isadora interrupted.
“Ye dunna ask a man such questions,” she said, exasperated. “Ask him about the weather, or his trade, but ye dunna ask him a question like that.”
Thank God the woman had such sense. Cam wasn’t sure he could have even uttered a word in answer to that question. He glanced at her only to see that she was looking at him, and when their eyes met, she smiled timidly.
A flicker of a smile crossed his lips before he looked away.
The serving wench made her way to their table at that point and Niall ordered supper and drink for everyone.
Cam got up from the table to stand next to the hearth, pretending to warm his hands and dry out when he really did it to get away from Ewan and his questions.
He didn’t want the man asking him something more about a family because he was going to have to throttle him.
The food came quickly and Cam rejoined the table, hoping the bread and drink would keep Ewan’s mouth too full to speak.
There was chicken stew with herbs and grain, fresh bread and butter, and stewed apples with cinnamon and honey.
Isadora quietly and efficiently made sure all of the men were served before accepting a portion for herself.
She ensured that Cam had enough bread and stewed apples, and they all ate in relative silence.
Cam welcomed it, but as the seconds ticked away, he began to think that Ewan had a point.
They knew nothing about him and he knew he was going to have to remedy that.
Perhaps if he told them just a little about himself, it would ease their curiosity.
Perhaps it would even begin the process of establishing that important trust. For the man who didn’t make friends easily, it was an effort for him to speak up.
“If I seem quiet, ’tis only my nature,” he said, watching four pairs of eyes look at him. “But ye should know that the last time I was in the Highlands, it was tae see my village burned. This is a strange journey for me, but I swear tae ye that I will not fail ye, in whatever ye would have me do.”
That was as much as he had said the entire trip and Niall seemed surprised by it. “I have no doubt in yer abilities,” he said. “I saw ye fight The Beast. I know what ye’re capable of. As tae returning tae the Highlands, ye have my sympathy. ’Tis a strange and desperate journey for us as well.”
“Why?”
Niall sighed faintly, looking to his warmed wine and collecting the cup. “That’s something tae discuss when we reach Auchnacree,” he said quietly, taking a drink of his wine. “’Tis a long story, and not one tae be spoken of in this place.”