Chapter 9
Calum heard accounts of the battle with the raiders and Euan’s wound the next morning.
It was all the talk when he came down to the great hall to break his fast. With such news, especially so soon after he woke up, his appetite fled.
Irritation filled his belly. Why had no one fetched him?
He couldn’t believe he had slept through the noise and commotion of their arrival.
Muireall should have sent someone for him.
How bad was Euan hurt? Calum didn’t bother to sit down, but headed straight for the herbal.
Mhairi gave him a look when he showed his face in her door that warned him to go no further. She held a finger to her lips for silence, then shooed him away, waving with both hands.
He barely had a moment to glimpse Euan, lying pale and still on one of the cots, a sight that made his chest ache. Muireall curled in on herself on another cot next to her husband. Did she fear he wouldn’t wake? How bad was his wound? He beckoned Mhairi to him. “How bad is it?”
She shrugged. “I’ve seen worse. He lost a lot of blood on the way here, which is why he looks the way he does. As long as he doesna succumb to fever, he’ll be well in a few weeks.”
“Weeks!”
“Aye, for the wound to heal and for him to regain his strength in that arm. Dinna fash, Calum. I’m watching him. Ella will, as well. And Muireall. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll ken it and do what’s needed. Now, go on with ye.”
He did as she ordered. He returned to the great hall. Where was Georgie? Someone there would know.
Over an ale, bread and honey, and simple bowls of lamb and barley stew, Kenneth filled him in on what they’d faced rounding up the men Calum had found, and the surprise raid by the rest. “We were stretched too thin keeping your lot under control,” Kenneth told him.
“When the rest showed up, it became a fight for our lives, and worse when some of our prisoners broke free and joined their fellows against us.” He related how Euan’s injury happened and the rushed ride to get him back to the Brodie healer before his bleeding made him unable to stay on his mount.
“When we got here, Ella assisted the healer in cleaning and wrapping his wound. She and Muireall are close. They’ll make sure Euan gets good care.”
Calum listened with half an ear, guilt making him restless and heartsore. He should have been there with Euan. He found the raiders. He should have been part of the group to bring them in. One more sword might have kept Euan from being injured.
His muscles tensed with anger. Damn his eye.
Damn the English sword that damaged it at Harlaw.
And for what? Nothing! Domhnall had slunk away during the night, taking his forces with him—or most of them.
Neither side could claim victory, though both had since done so.
The battle had not settled the dispute over Ross territory.
Nothing had been gained, yet he’d nearly lost his sight in one eye because of it, and other men died. He’d be damned if he’d lose Euan, too.
He should have been with him.
“I ken what ye’re thinking,” Kenneth told him. “But ye were needed here. I heard about the lads’ hunting trip. Without ye here while we were gone, they might still be lost in the woods. Or worse.”
Calum nodded, his mind immediately picturing Ella tending Kyle’s injuries. Ella must be exhausted. She’d gone out with the search party, then dealt with Euan’s injury during the night. Muireall, too. “Where is Georgie?”
Kenneth laughed. “Still confined to his chamber. I took Kyle up to stay with him after we brought Euan to the herbal. Cat is with them. Annie is keeping an eye on them, too.”
Calum shoved the remainder of his food away and stood. “I’ll go check on Euan.”
Kenneth shook his head. “He was asleep when ye went by there before ye came here. It hasna been that long. He’s probably still asleep. Best ye wait for the healer to tell us when he wakes.”
Frustrated, Calum finished his meal, then headed outside to the practice ground.
No one was out there yet, so he took advantage of the privacy to pick up a bow and work on his accuracy against the most distant target set up against the back wall.
That kept him occupied until others started to show up. Including Iain.
“Spar with me,” Iain offered once Calum emptied his quiver of arrows. He hefted his longsword.
Calum wasn’t eager to let the laird test his recovery with no warning.
He had no doubt Iain would use this session to judge whether, or how soon, to let him go out with a fighting force.
But since Iain was standing in front of him with an expectant look in his eye and a tight grip on the hilt, Calum didn’t have much choice.
Spar with him now, or make Iain think he wasn’t ready yet and wouldn’t be for weeks more.
He nodded, collected his arrows from the target and put everything away for someone else to use, then chose a longsword from the supply kept in the nearby weapons shed next to the smithy.
“How’s yer left side?”
Calum appreciated Iain asking instead of just swinging at him from that side and seeing if he had the wherewithal to duck or defend against a blow. “Better. No’ yet perfect. I expect ye to challenge me, but will thank ye to do it without taking off my head.”
Iain grinned. “I’ll do my best to leave it on yer shoulders.”
They started slowly, warming up and letting their muscles loosen.
As the pace picked up, Calum began to enjoy himself, especially when attacking or defending straight on or to his right.
His left side was more of a challenge, his vision still a little blurry, but the peripheral vision that he depended on to be aware of what was coming at him from that side seemed intact.
He never missed seeing Iain’s blade arcing toward him from that direction, and was aware when Iain pulled up short to avoid hurting him, but by then, Calum’s blade was in place to block Iain’s attack.
Even better, he challenged Iain’s defense more and more as they continued.
Finally, Iain dropped his sword point to the ground, calling a halt.
“I canna tell that ye have any problem seeing on yer left side,” Iain told him. “Ye did very well.”
“Thank ye. And thank ye for the practice. ’Tis true. I always kenned where yer blade was.”
“If Mhairi agrees, I think ye are ready to rejoin the warriors in addition to yer scouting duties.”
“’Tis good news, laird. Thank ye.”
“Thank Mhairi and Ella, Calum, for their care of ye. And yer own persistence.”
Calum nodded. “I’ll talk to Mhairi today.
” And Ella? He did owe Mhairi his thanks.
Ella, too, though that would be harder to deliver.
Despite how well they got on rescuing the lost lads, after their kiss and the argument that followed it, she might not care to hear what he had to say on the subject of her care of his eye.
Iain slapped him on the back and left the practice field.
Calum stood for a moment, watching him go, absorbing what had just happened.
While he’d been bedridden, how he’d dreamed of this day, and feared it would never come.
Now, he felt determined. Vindicated. Relieved and happy.
He left the field before anyone else noticed him loitering and started rumors about what Iain might have said to him.
He’d get cleaned up and talk to Mhairi, then get something to eat.
If she gave her permission, he planned to ask Iain about joining the next scouting mission to make sure all the raiders had been arrested or driven from Brodie and its allies’ territory.
He no longer needed to fear getting into a fight, or letting down the men he fought with.
“I’ve enough men in the field,” Iain told him after the evening meal as they shared a cup of wine in his solar to celebrate Mhairi’s approval.
“Until we ken more from them, and from our allies, I am reluctant to risk any more scouts—especially ye. I will give it a few more days for everyone to report back. We’ll ken more then. And Calum,” he added and paused.
“Aye?”
“Ye did well today with a blade. This is naught to do with ye. I dinna want to risk anyone right now.”
Disappointed, but unable to argue with Iain’s logic, Calum bid his laird a good eve.
“Another thing,” Iain said, stopping Calum as he rose to leave.
“Aye?”
Iain looked as though he was considering whether to continue with whatever came to his mind, or to dismiss him.
He leaned forward and met Calum’s questioning gaze with a look that made Calum uneasy.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to ye about something else.
Ella has done well in her year with us. And she was indispensable in caring for the lads when ye found them.
She’s grown in confidence and in skills she didna possess when she first arrived here.
And those make her even more attractive to other men, ye ken?
I have heard rumblings from some of the men here—no’ directly, mind ye—that lead me to think ’twould be best for her to be married soon.
Or at least, betrothed, before something happens that none of us, least of all Ella, will like.
Calum couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was at risk from within their own clan? Being betrothed, or even wed, would not guarantee her safety if someone within their walls chose to accost her. “What would ye have me do?”
“I ken the two of ye are friends, but Ella has the kind of beauty to attract attention wherever she goes. And she doesna have a husband to protect her.”
“She has a clan. This one.”
“Brodie men are still men. They see her, and they see that in a year with her, ye have no’ claimed her, despite yer obvious interest in her.
By now, ye’ve convinced them ye’ll never be more than friends with her.
And when she leaves the keep, as she has and will again, on an errand, or to help someone, or for a gathering of clans, there will be more men to covet her. ”