Chapter Nine #2
But there seemed to be more along the west coast and a cluster in one place in particular. Rose tapped the spot on the map.
“What is this place?”
“Hemkirk,” Cailean replied. He frowned. “I dinna know why there’s such a high concentration there. The place is tiny. Little more than a fishing hamlet.”
“Then I think we’d better find out, don’t you? We were looking for a place to start, weren’t we? Hemkirk it is.”
*
For the second time in as many days, Cailean found himself riding with Rose MacFinnan. He could have had some of his men accompany them, but he’d decided against it. They were needed back at Dun Mallach he told himself, although deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason he had left them behind.
He wanted to be alone with Rose.
As they left Dun Mallach and took the inland path that would take them through the heart of the island to the west coast, he wondered what in all the fates he’d been thinking. It was reckless to be alone with her after what had almost happened between them last night.
He glanced in her direction. She was riding by his side, keeping her seat with more confidence than yesterday although she kept grimacing from time to time as though she still had aching muscles.
To be honest, he would much rather have had her riding with him on Arrow but he could think of no good reason to suggest she do so, so she was mounted on Snip once more. The mare plodded docilely along by Arrow’s side, content to follow the bigger horse’s lead.
It was a good job Snip was so docile, he reflected, seeing as her rider was giving her very little guidance and paying her scant attention.
Instead, ever since they’d left the castle, Rose’s attention had been fixed on the map that she was holding awkwardly in front of her, arms wide as she held it out, studying it with fierce determination.
“It willnae change,” he said. “No matter how much ye stare at it.”
“No, but I might see something I’ve missed,” she said without looking up.
“Lass, with the amount ye’ve been studying that map it’s a wonder ye dinna see it in yer sleep.”
She sighed. “All right. Point taken.” She folded the map and twisted around to stow it in the saddle bag behind her. “Happy?”
“Very. At least now I dinna have to worry about Snip putting her foot in a hole because her rider’s mind is elsewhere.”
Rose gathered up the reins and patted Snip on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you hurt yourself, would I, girl? No, I wouldn’t. Good horse.”
Snip tossed her mane, clearly pleased by the attention.
Cailean rolled his eyes. Between Catriona and Rose, he would be lucky to have any decent working animals left.
They were heading inland and the sea was now only a faint strip of blue along the horizon behind them.
The interior of the island was made up of deep glens and rocky hills, with thick stands of forest dotted between.
It was sparsely populated, being farthest from the sea that gave the people of Barra their livelihood, and the few roads were little more than shepherds’ tracks.
Still, Cailean knew this place like the back of his hand although he’d not been out this way since the sickness had started and he realized that he’d missed the wide-open spaces and the endless skies.
Although, he reflected, the sky did not look very welcoming today.
The sunny promise of the morning had given way to clouds that filled the sky from end to end, like a blanket thrown over the world, heavy with rain.
The wind was blowing away from them though, and if they were very lucky, they might escape the downpour that threatened.
Luck, he thought sourly. Hardly. Clan MacNeil seems to be fresh out of such a thing.
“Do you know ‘I spy’?” Rose asked suddenly.
Cailean glanced at her. “What?”
“‘I spy’. It’s a word game. You play it to pass the time.
My sisters and I used to play it all the time when we were little and our mother had taken us on a long road trip.
Stopped us getting bored and acting up. Come on, it’s easy.
You look around for something you can see, then say the letter it begins with.
The other player has to guess what you’ve chosen. I’ll go first.”
A little bemused, Cailean watched as she looked around, eyes scanning the muddy path they were riding along and the damp vegetation to either side.
They were passing through a wide valley, with bracken covered slopes.
The bracken was already starting to turn brown with the turn of the seasons.
Winter, he realized, would soon be upon them.
“Got it!” Rose said. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with f.”
“Ferns,” he said immediately.
Rose frowned at him. “How did you get that so quickly?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Lass, look around. There’s naught else for miles.”
She gave an annoyed little harrumph. “All right. You suggest a game.”
“This is hardly my area of expertise,” Cailean replied. “Although I do play a mean game of drafts.”
“You do? Excellent! Then I challenge you to a duel when we get back to Dun Mallach.”
She was smiling and, looking at her, Cailean felt that odd sensation inside him again, that seemed to come upon him whenever he was in her company.
She was a MacFinnan spellweaver, a woman with incredible powers and carried the expectation of a whole clan on her shoulders.
Yet here she was, getting excited at the prospect of a game of drafts. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met.
Despite himself, he smiled. “All right, ye are on.”
“Excellent! It’s a date!”
Cailean didn’t know what a date was, but Rose’s expression changed suddenly, as though she’d said something she hadn’t meant to. Her cheeks colored and she cleared her throat.
“Well, I don’t mean a ‘date’ obviously. I just mean… well… erm…”
“Aye, lass,” Cailean cut her off. “It’s a date.”
Rose’s eyes were a little wide. “Well, okay then.” She blinked and looked away. “I don’t like the look of those clouds,” she blurted. “It looks like we are going to get a drenching.”
Cailean licked his thumb then held it up, judging the wind direction. “We willnae. The wind is coming from behind us. If it holds course until we reach Hemkirk we’ll be fine. If it doesnae…” He shrugged. “Then we will get a drenching.”
“I hope you’re right. I forgot my umbrella.” He looked her askance and she waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. A modern invention to keep you dry.”
He nodded. “We have something similar. It’s called a hood.”
Rose couldn’t help laughing at that.
As it turned out, Cailean was right. The wind continued to push the clouds away from them and by the time they reached Hemkirk, they hung far out over the sea, looking black and angry. Cailean didn’t envy any fishermen who would be caught out in that when the rain hit.
But the clouds above them began to break up, letting through shafts of intermittent sunlight as they rode down the hill towards where Hemkirk nestled along the shore in the distance.
There was not much to the settlement. A deep natural harbor meant larger fishing vessels could dock here but the poor soil and sparse grass on this side of the island made it difficult to grow crops or graze livestock.
As a result, the village was a fishing station and little else, and the few families who lived here traded their fish for the supplies they needed from elsewhere.
There were around ten houses, built of stone and turf to better endure the weather on this side of the island, as well as a wooden chapel with a crude cross attached to its roof.
The people of Hemkirk had been some of Sister Beatrice’s earliest converts and she slogged over here each Sunday to read mass.
Many of the fishing boats, which would normally be out on the waves at this hour, were still bobbing gently in the harbor and the only signs of life they saw was a sheepdog lying on the wharf with a bone between its front paws, gnawing hungrily.
The dog spotted them riding down the winding path and sprang to its feet, barking madly. The racket brought a few villagers out of their houses—mostly women Cailean noticed—and they watched him and Rose approach with wary expressions on their faces.
When they reached the group, Cailean pulled Arrow to a halt and looked around at the rag-tag group.
There were a few younger children and older males but Cailean didn’t see many youths or working-age men.
Were they all out on the fishing boats? But if so, why were so many of the boats still in port?
He dismounted in order to seem less intimidating, Rose following his example. “Greetings,” he said to the group. “Who speaks for this village?”
The villagers glanced among themselves before an old woman pushed her way to the front. She had long gray hair in two plaits in the Norse style and the weathered, leathery skin of someone who spent most of their time out of doors.
“I do. My name is Agnes. My husband was the headman of this village. Welcome to Hemkirk, Laird MacNeil.” She looked him up and down with an appraising expression before her gaze flicked to Rose. “What can we do for ye?”
Her tone wasn’t exactly suspicious, but it wasn’t particularly welcoming either. The folks on this side of the island were notoriously independent and didn’t take kindly to anyone poking their noses into their business. But he was still their laird and they were still his responsibility.
“We’ve coming looking for information,” he said. “Information that might help us in the fight against the sickness.” He indicated for Rose to step up beside him. “Rose here is a healer and is trying to track the source of the sickness.”
Rose smiled around at them. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Rose. Rose MacFinnan.”
Her name had an instant effect on the crowd. A collective gasp went up and Cailean heard whispers of, “A spellweaver! Here! God be praised!”