Chapter 10
Aiden strode alongside her down the pathway to her village, his sword making soft clanking sounds as he glanced around. Habitually keeping his head on a swivel, taking in the familiar green and rocks of his land.
He told himself it was a habit, though he had to admit to himself that he was spending a bit too much time glancing at the brunette at his side. He couldn’t quite come up with an excuse for that, and when she glanced his way, he pretended to be looking past her into some nearby shrubs.
The walk wasn’t terribly long, and soon they came upon cottages.
He frowned as he looked around. The main road should have been bustling with people shouting to one another and going about their daily chores.
He noticed the fields were empty. The few people they had seen so far looked pale and drawn.
“Where is everyone, lass?” He glanced again at Hannah, suspecting something, but still making sure he hadn’t forgotten it was a Sunday.
“If ye go to the kirkyard and count the freshly buried, ye’ll ken.” Her voice was slightly flat, as if he had indeed asked her a silly question.
He tried to save face. “Yer sister seems to be improving.”
Hannah glanced up at him and gave him the smile he’d been hoping for.
“I’ve been giving her the draught I made of the plant ye allowed me to harvest every day, sometimes several times a day,” she explained.
“That may be why she’s nae already among the dead.
” She winced, as if saying the word or bringing up the very notion caused her undue pain.
Aiden closed his eyes momentarily and nodded his head, before glancing around again as they passed the village well.
It should have been full of life, but there were merely a few pale people struggling to fill buckets of water, and one tired-looking child sitting nearby tapping a stick on the ground.
He hadn’t fully understood how bad things were. This village was far, far worse off than the previous one he’d been in. That village had shown more signs of life. At least children were still playing and women were still singing.
They came to the farrier and entered his stable. The heat of the bellows was immediately noticeable and stifling. He could hear the ringing of a hammer slamming into metal and the pumping of the bellows.
“Hannah!” A man wearing a leather apron looked up from his work and smiled at her, blue eyes crinkling with age. “There ye are.” Then he caught sight of Aiden at her side, and his smile dropped instantly. “Oh.”
Hannah’s steps faltered at his reaction. “I’ve come to collect Fin.” Her voice was hesitant. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she’d forgotten Aiden was right behind her.
The farrier jerked his chin toward the pony. “We’ll settle up later.” His voice had gone cold. Still polite, but noticeably uncomfortable. He stood stiffly, hammer still in hand, eyes fixed on Aiden.
Aiden could feel the distrust radiating from the man and kept his hands visible in an attempt to look nonthreatening.
Hannah glanced between the two and then approached her pony, who whickered softly at her. Untying his lead, she looked between the two again.
“I’ll be back later with yer whiskey, Liam, aye?” She tried to smile at him again.
The farrier nodded silently, not returning her smile.
Aiden knew his presence was unwanted, but he simply hadn’t thought his lack of welcome would extend to his companion. Unfortunately for the other man, he could not allow that. And he would not let it go.
“Well, I would have expected a wee bit more respect and interest in the appearance of yer Laird, man,” he remarked, light and easy.
Liam reddened, dropping his gaze.
Hannah frowned at him. “Liam, what are ye doing? This is Laird MacBain.”
“I ken who he is,” Liam muttered sullenly. “I didnae mean… That is—”
“Nay offense taken,” Aiden interrupted, as graciously as he could manage. No sense in stirring up bad feelings for no good reason. More flies were caught with honey than with vinegar, after all.
“I’ll be off to the distillery now,” Hannah told him quietly as they left the stable, her easy smile suddenly absent.
“I will join ye. I’ve seen what I need here,” Aiden murmured. He tried to seem non-threatening, but that didn’t stop a mother from snatching her toddler up and scampering away as they approached.
“As ye like,” Hannah said, walking alongside him with her pony at her side.
Her gaze followed the woman clutching her toddler. Any tighter a grip, and the woman would likely strangle her own child.
Hannah tutted in disapproval. “For heaven’s sake. They think ye are a far worse monster than ye are. Nae that ye are a monster,” she added hastily, with a hint of a blush.
Aiden chuckled. “Nice catch, lass.”
“I do me best. It’s distilling day, so I’ll be rather busy. But if ye want to see what I do, I willnae stop ye.”
“Good.”
The two walked side by side back through the village and the cold eyes that followed them, making their way up to the distillery.
Their silence remained companionable enough, but there was a slight tension in the air from the strange welcome.
Aiden focused on walking, head up, shoulders straight.
It would do no good to show any sort of discomfort.
People could be like wolves, eager to scent out uncertainty.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hannah glowering at an old man who stared at him in horror.
I wonder whether she would be one of the people avoiding me if I werenae helping her sister.
That wasn’t a useful thought, so he firmly put it aside. He kept his head even more on a swivel now that he’d received such an icy welcome. Now that he knew how angry the villagers were, he didn’t want to catch a sword to the back by not being vigilant.
No, that was unlikely to happen. Never once had he been surprised by an attacker. Still, killing a villager in front of his neighbors was not a good way to convince them that he was a kind laird and not a threat to them. One might argue that it would achieve the opposite.
And worse than that, the girl at his side might be harmed simply for being in his company. He couldn’t let that happen.
Fortunately, they made it to the distillery without an incident.
Hannah stopped to tuck her pony in the stable with his mare. Seeing the size difference between the two made Aiden chuckle, and she glanced up at him quickly and smiled back.
They shared a brief moment of levity at the absolutely comical sight of her small pony standing beside his warhorse. Even the animals seemed in on the joke, sizing one another up.
“Is that what we look like when we’re together?” Hannah mused aloud.
He shot her a surprised look and barked a laugh. “Lord, I hope nae, lass.”
She shook her head, grinning.
The tension bled from his shoulders at that smile, and he patted his mare before turning to follow her to the nearby distillery.
Hannah led the way through the front door and instantly frowned at the sound coming from the large copper pot in the center of the room.
“The fire’s too hot under the still, boys. Bank it,” she ordered, crossing her arms. “Ye can hear it in the way it’s sputtering. Samuel, Thomas, can ye hear the sputter?”
“Aye,” said Samuel, the younger of the two.
Aiden wasn’t sure if they were brothers, as the two shared tawny hair and big green eyes. Their matching breeches and tunics didn’t help either.
“Nay, ye cannae,” snapped Thomas, the older. “Daenae lie.”
“Can too!” Samuel retorted and looked about ready to smack him.
Aye, the way they’re bickering also doesnae help.
“Oy!” Hannah interrupted sternly. “Fight on yer own time. Ye’re on mine.”
Aiden smirked to himself as he watched her handle the children, impressed by how she guided their adjustment of the fire with an explanation instead of simply telling them what to do.
She left them to finish banking the fire, then walked over to a series of bundled herbs hung to dry. “Who picked this?” she asked, snatching one in particular down from the wall.
Thomas and Samuel looked at each other, clearly not sure who could blame the other first.
Hannah turned back and sighed, glancing at them. “Oh, never mind. It doesnae matter. Boys, finish banking the fire and come here.”
She was already breaking off a leaf from the bundle and smelling it, grimacing. Aiden watched with distinct interest, wondering what she was doing and waiting for a payoff.
The boys finished banking the fire and scampered to her immediately.
“Ye smell this?”
Both leaned forward, and both jerked their heads back.
“This is Hellebore. It’s incredibly poisonous.
So poisonous, I want ye to show me where ye found it later.
I’ll be getting rid of it. Ye arenae to touch it.
” Hannah grabbed a flask of water and poured it over her hand.
“I will need ye to dry more rosemary and thyme. They were touching this, and I willnae risk poisoning our customers.”
“Aye, mistress,” the boys mumbled, both looking chagrined.
She gave them a bemused look. “I’m nae even sure what ye thought ye were picking for me. Stick to what ye ken ye’re to dry for me without getting ideas.”
“Aye, mistress,” they said again, though they looked less like they’d committed a terrible error and more like they were listening to her intently and learning.
With a satisfied nod, Hannah gathered the other two herbs from the wall and took all three outside, returning a moment later.
Aiden marveled at how immediately she’d recognized something was wrong, and how she was able to school her apprentices without upsetting them.
When she returned, she made her way to a spigot at the end of the copper still. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got.”
She turned it, and Aiden watched as a clear liquid began to drip freely into a clay pot. The scent of peat and woodsmoke, the drip of the whiskey, it was almost soothing in its simplicity.