Chapter Eleven
“I’ll find out what’s happening.” Nala, the laird’s wife, rose swiftly, her skirts swaying side to side as she made her way toward the entrance.
The laird walked toward the high board, his stride purposeful and eyes grave. Without hesitation, Nala met him and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. He stopped and leaned in, his lips brushing close to her ear, sharing a message meant only for her.
Ailith’s heart clenched. The sight of them, united, steady, and still so openly in love, stirred a pain deep within her. They moved as one, partners in every way, offering strength and compassion to their people with a single glance exchanged between them.
The stern laird a hardened warrior seemed to soften at his wife’s nearness, his strong body a sharp contrast to the soft curves of his wife, who was a trained swordswoman and rumored to be a fierce fighter. And yet each time they spoke to each other, it was as if they were one.
It was a love Ailith had once known. And lost.
“They’re headed to the high board,” Ainslie whispered beside her, not taking her eyes off the couple. “Alexander’s going to make an announcement.”
A chill coiled around Ailith’s spine. Dread whispered its warning in the back of her mind. Whatever news the laird carried, it would not be good. She’d seen the three leaders, Liam, Cynden, and Hendry, and all the warriors rush from the room.
Now, silence gripped the space like a vice. Conversations had died. Even the smallest sounds, the creak of benches, the rustle of skirts, seemed too loud. The tension crackled in the air, thick and tangible.
Ailith didn’t dare breathe as the laird stepped forward, his tall frame commanding attention, his gaze sweeping across every face.
“Clan MacLeod,” he began, his voice clear and steady, “has been seen approaching from the south, by sea. My army has ridden out to meet them. The keep’s defenses have been fortified. Ye are safe here.”
He paused, his tone softening as he drew his wife nearer, their silhouettes a portrait of strength and devotion. “Remain calm. No one is to leave the hall until we’ve ensured the threat has passed. Supplies will be brought in. Blankets, food, anything needed.”
Then, solemnly, he added, “Pray for our warriors. They are fierce and well-prepared, and they fight not just with steel, but with the fire of loyalty to this clan. I have every faith they will return victorious.”
The room remained hushed, but it felt different now, heavier.
Ailith’s vision swam, the edges of her world blurring.
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, too loud in the silence.
Thank the heavens she was seated. Her legs trembled beneath her like reeds in a storm.
The fear she’d tried to hold back was no longer a whisper. It was roaring in her veins.
In the waning sun… Hendry was riding toward danger.
“Come there is much to do,” Nala called out as she walked past their table, motioning to her and Ainslie to follow. Several other women joined the procession behind Nala, some having to run in order to keep up.
Hesitating just as they exited the great room, Nala turned and scanned the women assembled.
“Emma, Nellie, and Ingrid, go with the chambermaids to fetch extra blankets.” She divided the women into teams, sending some to the well for water, others to help in the kitchen, and another group to fetch straw for bedding.
Ailith went with two others to the laundry to help with the washing of any bedding and hanging the items out to dry.
The laundry was a spacious room with lines of clay and rock basins with slanted lips used for scrubbing. A huge pot with steam emanating from it was being stirred, the smell of lye strong in the air.
The laundress was a tall woman with a more masculine than feminine frame. With a kerchief tied atop her head to keep hair out of her face, she barely glanced at them when they entered.
“There are sheets on the lines that need to be gathered,” she said, pointing to one of Ailith’s companions. “Go fetch them, fold them, and put them on the table just outside the door with the others.”
Her sharp gaze took Ailith in, then slid down to where Teller stood next to her. Her faithful dog, who’d been sleeping under the table, had followed her. “Take that stack of clothes there to the warrior, Beathan’s, cottage. Return to help collect extra bedding.”
She told the woman standing with Ailith much the same thing; the only difference was to take her bundles to a different warrior’s cottage. Upon walking out, Ailith looked to the other woman. “Do ye work here?”
“Aye, I work serving the laird.”
“I can take these to the cottages,” she said. Just tell me where to go.
The woman shrugged. “Fine. Beathan’s is there,” she pointed to a cottage near the stables. “Hendry’s is further, along the back wall.” Again she pointed. “Thank ye I have to return to ensure the laird is not in need of anything.”
She took the bundle, and the woman hurried away. There were three cottages along the back wall of the keep. Ailith called for Teller, who’d gone a short distance away, sniffing everything, excited at all the new smells.
A stable lad had been more than enthusiastic, giving her more directions than were necessary when the trio of cottages were clearly visible from where they stood. Hendry’s cottage was on the end, the furthest from the keep.
For some reason she knocked before pushing the door open. “Is anyone here?” she called out just to be sure.
“Stay here,” she ordered Teller, who lowered his haunches in obedience.
Then she walked in.
The space was simple… and spotless. The floors were swept, the hearth cleaned, and every surface looked to have been scrubbed. A bed was on the left, under it a braided rug. There was a trunk at the foot, where she assumed he kept his clothes.
Next to the bed was a three-legged table, upon which was a lantern, nothing more. On the right there was a hearth, the fire doused. Next to it a tall slender table with a shelf underneath. There were several cups, a bowl, and a small iron pot for boiling water.
In the center of the room was a table with three chairs. Her eyes focused on the small basket in the center. It was the one she’d sent to him upon arriving that morning.
First, she placed the neatly folded clothes atop the trunk, not wishing to overstep by opening it.
Moving slowly, not quite sure what to expect, she went to the table. The cloth had been folded over the items inside. Lifting one corner, she peered in and let out a breath.
The sack of roasted chestnuts was gone and one of the pies was no longer there. He’d eaten the pie. The knowledge made her breathe easier.
It was a small step. Hopefully, it meant he would come to forgive her in time.
When she made it to the door, she turned to look at the room and took in every detail. This was the place the man she’d once planned to marry lived. How different their lives had turned out.
Ailith closed her eyes. This was not the time for sentimentalities. Her energy would go toward helping in any way she could and praying for Hendry’s safe return.