Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Cormag entered the main hall with Robb and Bernard right behind, matching stern expressions on their faces.
William immediately sat up, ready for whatever had his father and uncle worried.
“Please excuse us, Eoghan,” Cormag requested. “I must have a word with William.”
Eoghan rose and, with a slight bow, withdrew with his platter of food and tankard.
Forgetting about his half-eaten meal, William stood with his father.
“Come, William, to my study. We must have a word about the Morays.”
This does no’ bode well, William thought as he fell into step, following his chieftain.
Once they were through the door, Cormag secured it, then settled his broad frame into the chair at the far end of the narrow study table. Surrounded by high-backed chairs, it served as an ideal war room, and that was the sense William had when he sat opposite his father.
“I’ve had a message from King Causantín in Edinburgh.
He is concerned about the Morays and would like us to meet with Malcolm Moray at the lord’s seat near Aberdeen.
He’s sent a letter for ye to give to Malcolm, but the king has designs that ye assess Malcolm and the Morays whilst ye are there.
He would know if the Morays will support him or continue to cause strife. ”
Cormag’s icy blue eyes took the measure of each one of them. Then he reached into his leather jerkin and withdrew a scroll, tied with a thong and sealed with a magenta seal.
Bernard took the scroll and held it lightly between his fingers. “And with this missive, we are to walk into Moray lands unscathed?” Doubt coated every word he spoke.
The tendons in Cormag’s neck tensed. It was evident he agreed with his brother’s assessment, even if he said differently.
“Aye, if ye enter peacefully, a small party, and instruct his men that ye have a missive from the king. Even the Morays must know they canna attack those who represent the king.”
“Ye have a high evaluation of the Morays,” Robb commented under his breath. His face still bore the haunted shadows of his father’s death and ate at the lines around his eyes. Robb bore no love for those who supported the mad king.
William did not disagree. It seemed like a mission set on failure.
“Who is to go with us?” Bernard inquired.
“No one. Merely ye three, and Robb’s brother, Iain.”
William’s eyebrows cinched. “What of Ailbert?”
“He leaves on the morrow, for the MacIntoshes,” Cormag explained.
“Another emissary, this time from us, to pay our respects and see where they yet stand. They have decided Lucas’s brother, Boyd, should step in as MacIntosh chieftain, and we should pay homage.
And Lucas’s son, Daric, expressed an interest in Muire.
” Here, Cormag flicked his eyes toward Bernard, who nodded solemnly.
Something in William’s chest tightened, though the prospect of his sister being married to another clan was to be expected. Cormag had no daughters to marry off.
“Your brother is to escort Muire and extend the offer of continued friendship and alliance,” Bernard answered in a level tone.
Muire was to be another marriage arranged to appease the unity of the Highland clans.
Bernard adored his daughters. William had to wonder how well that conversation between Cormag and Bernard had gone. Likely, not too well.
But it was the ironic position of parenting, William was learning. That if mothers and fathers raised their children as they should, then they had to let go of the things they loved most. It seemed a horrible reward for years of parental service and love. He flicked a quick glance at Bernard.
How did his father do it?
Then William had a heart-rending thought. He would become a parent sooner rather than later, especially with how often he bedded Ailith. Could he be that father? One to raise his children to do as commanded and feel pride in doing so?
William swallowed hard, trying to refocus on the issue at hand. That was a concern for another day – a tomorrow problem, as Ailith had quipped before.
Robb spoke, asking the next question that had popped into William’s head.
“When do we leave?”
“On the morrow,” Cormag told him. “The rest of our guests leave, along with Ailbert and Muire. Ye can leave with them. Ye should be gone but a few days.”
Then Cormag’s intense eyes shifted as he looked to William. “I presume ye can survive without your wife for a few nights?”
Robb tried unsuccessfully to hide his laughter behind his hands, and Bernard bit his lips to cover his own smile.
William sighed and decided to play into the taunt.
“Aye, but telling her of it, I might not survive,” William quipped and joined them in their laughter.
Where is it? I could have sworn I left it here. Did one of the housemaids remove it, believing it trash?
Though Ailith could not imagine any of the maids removing something that was not their own, from the mess that was the parchment, she would not blame them.
She was on her hands and knees, searching under the bed in case a draft had blown it into hiding, when a subtle cough from the doorway surprised her. Leaning back on her heels, she popped her head out from under the bed frame.
William leaned casually against the doorway, his arms crossed and a sly smile on his full lips.
“Och, I’d rather ye’d stayed in that position so I might flip up your skirts and pound myself between your flesh, as enticing as your arse looked.”
Ailith brushed her hair out of her face and grinned at him. “Other than the hard wooden floor under my knees, if ye like, I can resume that position.”
His eyes widened briefly, as did his smile. He pushed off the doorframe and entered their chambers.
Their chambers. She was still trying to get used to that.
“Dinna tempt me, mo ruaidh. ‘Twould be more than sore knees that ye suffered if ye did. What were ye doing with your head under the bedding anyway?”
He stood at the end of the bed as his eyes remained on hers.
“Ye know the parchments ye purchased for me? I was trying to write on one, and I do mean trying, when your sisters found me and offered better ink and writing utensils in Caitir’s salon. Sine grabbed a new sheet of parchment, and I left the stained one here. Now I canna find it.”
The carefree expression on his face darkened slightly, and Ailith knew exactly why.
“Did she or Muire question ye about the writings?”
Ailith shook her head, her loose, crimson tresses catching against her face again.
“Nay. Or rather, no’ much. They seem to find value in my tracking the toadstools, even if they dinna understand why I do it.
” She paused, wondering if she should mention Sine’s comment about using the mushrooms, and decided it would be best. He might have a solution if Teagan did not.
“Sine even offered to help me plant, and we are to go out on the morrow. But they also asked about how to prepare the stools, and I was at a loss. I shall inquire with Teagan. She might know something I can do with them. But their import for health was just an excuse I used. I dinna know what to do with them in the here and now.”
William’s jaw worked as he listened to Ailith, then sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
“I credit Muire and Sine for being so accepting of your, uh, eccentricities,” he commented.
Ailith rolled her eyes at his comment. It was a good excuse for any of her strange, modern behaviors, but she didn’t love the word.
Too often, it was said like she was crazed, not odd.
“And while I dinna know anything about puddock-stools, I’ll keep my ears open to anyone who might speak of a health treatment ye can use for them. ”
Deciding the parchment must have been tossed away by a maid, Ailith adjusted her brown plaid kirtle and joined William on the bed.
“Will ye be joining Sine and me on the morrow? I know ye dinna care for me to go stool planting on my own.”
William leaned into her and, wrapping his hand around the crown of her head, he kissed her temple. She leaned into him, relishing the warmth that suffused through her when he expressed such tender gestures. He smelled of leather, earth, and his own musk, and inhaling his scent soothed her.
“Ye have no thoughts as to how much joy it brings me to hear ye say that. No’ that ye need me there, but that ye understand my worries and concerns about your and Sine’s safety.
” Then he shook his head. A single blond lock spilled across his brow.
“But nay, I canna accompany ye. Please bring Wee Brian with ye. I have been tasked by Cormag to pay a visit to the Morays.”
Ailith popped upright to stare at him, all the blood in her body turning to ice.
“The Morays? What? Why would he have ye meet with the verra clan that tried to destroy him and his aligned clans?”
William inhaled deeply, and that shadow on his face deepened. His bright blue eyes shifted to avert his gaze.
“He hopes to take their measure in light of the new king. Bernard, Robb, and Iain are to go with me. We shall arrive as emissaries, complete with a letter from King Causantín himself. We should be but a day, mayhap more if our conferencing goes well.”
Her lips thinned as he explained. The Morays. After all they had done to sow dissent among the clans and conspire with the dead mad king, now her husband was to walk into that lion’s den? She shuddered.
Ailith noticed William was oddly quiet after telling her the news, and she tilted her head to peer at him. He kept his face downcast, focused on his hands folded between his well-muscled thighs.
“Does this task worry ye, William?”
He exhaled again. “I have to admit, I dinna understand much about what ye’ve told me about your traveling through the fabric of time.
There are moments when I canna bring myself to fully believe it.
But since everything ye had shown me to date attests to the truth of your tale, I have to believe at least some of it. ”