Chapter Eight
Auchnacree
Isadora didn’t like that her father was wavering on the side of a defeatist.
Niall had been discussing what to do about the Lindsay’s aggression with the village elders for months now, but no solution had been reached.
On this evening, she waited for her father in the shadows of a nearby cottage, hiding back in the darkness as he emerged from meeting with the village elders with his sons around him.
These days, Isadora wasn’t allowed into the hall when the men were meeting because she’d made too much of a spectacle of herself recently.
She hardly cared.
Grief had changed her.
They’d all seen it, though no one really knew why.
Isadora was a strong woman in the best of times, sometimes curt, but always fair.
Since the burning of Netherton, however, her manner had become morose and moody.
Rumors in the village spoke of people seeing her crying alone in the vale.
Someone even said they’d seen her heading toward Netherton, a rumor that Ewan and Ossian could confirm because they had followed her.
She had indeed gone to Netherton to look around, but they never asked her why because they didn’t want her to know she’d been followed.
Her sullen, almost combative, behavior had become quite the mystery.
The village elders had seen that behavior come undone at times, so she’d been banned from attending any more meetings.
Still, Isadora’s father told her everything that had been discussed so she knew what was happening.
She had a better head on her shoulders than nearly everyone in the village and in the privacy of their cottage, she often helped her father sort through things.
Like tonight. She was tired of waiting on those weak fools who called themselves elders yet never did anything to help their village. All they did was talk.
She wanted action.
“Well?” she said as her father and brothers came near.
Isadora stepped from the shadows, blocking their path. They had no choice but to come to a halt.
“The usual,” Niall said, unable to look at her because it sounded so weak. “They speak of defense.”
That was frustrating rhetoric to Isadora. “But what about preventing the Lindsay raids we’ve had as of late?” she demanded. “What of retaliation? The men who destroyed Netherton and now enter our lands and harass our farmers because they know we willna fight back. What about—?”
Niall cut her off, moving around her as he continued his trek toward the cottage the family shared. “It was discussed,” he said. “Of course it was discussed.”
“And?”
“And they’re afraid of losing men, Issie. ’Tis better tae let the raids inflict damage than let them kill off our young warriors in an offensive. We’ll need those lads if we are tae survive.”
He meant her brothers, Ewan and Ossian. He didn’t want to lose his sons. But to Isadora, it was that defeatist attitude again and it enraged her. For her people who had been wronged, she wanted justice, but for that sweet young man she lost those month ago, she wanted revenge.
She wanted a pound of flesh.
Isadora ran after her father as he walked away. “Our men need tae learn tae fight properly,” she insisted. “If they know about tactics and how tae truly fight, then we’ll launch an offensive and we’ll win. They need tae be taught, Da.”
Niall eyed her. “What are ye talking about, lass?”
She saw that she had his attention. “When I was young, ye used tae speak of a place where men went tae learn tae fight,” she said. “Do ye recall? The Ludus Caledonia.”
Niall shook his head impatiently. “Not now, Issie,” he said. “There’s no time tae—”
She cut him off. “Da, ye spoke of The Cal when I was younger. Ye told me it was a place tae learn tae fight. Did ye lie tae me, then?”
He looked at her, sharply. “I’ve never lied tae ye, lass.”
“Then why not go tae The Cal?” She put her hand on his arm, imploring.
“Ye filled my head full of tales of a place where men learn tae become great warriors. What if ye send us there? Me and Ewie and Ossian? We can return and teach our men tae fight, and then we can stand up tae the Lindsay. We can seek vengeance if we…!”
She stopped herself before she spilled everything, but Niall heard her. He peered at her curiously. “Seek vengeance for what, lass?”
Isadora couldn’t look her father in the eye at that point. He didn’t know whom she was grieving for, but he suspected it had something to do with someone in Netherton. They all suspected such a thing. But she wasn’t going to add fuel to that speculation.
It was her pain and her pain alone.
“Vengeance for making it seem that we raided Netherton,” she said, less agitated than she had been. “Vengeance for our clan. Do ye not want tae punish them for what they did tae us? Tae Netherton?”
Niall was fairly certain that was not what she meant, but he didn’t press her. Isadora was an ocean of secrets these days. Instead, he looked at her closely as he considered her suggestion.
“Nay, lass,” he said after a moment. “Sending ye tae the Ludus Caledonia is but a dream.”
“But what if it was a possibility?” she said eagerly. “Havena ye been there?”
Niall hesitated. “Twice.”
She grew more excited. “Then ye know where it is,” she said. “Ye can send us there.”
He was shaking his head before she could finish her sentence. “I canna,” he said. “It would take too long for ye tae learn and then return tae teach the rest of us. But…”
She grabbed at him. “But what?”
“If we get a man who has already been taught…”
He trailed off and, suddenly, the light of realization flared.
Niall had been to bloody and well-attended games where men battled in a secluded arena cut into the hills of the Lowlands of Scotland and he knew that he could find a man to help them at the great and terrible Ludus Caledonia.
Perhaps a man who would solve all of their problems by leading their young warriors against the Lindsay.
It would be expensive, but they had the money.
They could buy themselves quite a warrior.
A savior.
It wasn’t a bad idea, at that.
“Then we’ll go?” Isadora asked, jolting him from his train of thought. “We’ll go tae The Cal, Dada?”
Niall wasn’t entire sure; it was an idea he had to think over carefully. “Dunna push me, Isadora,” he said in a tone that suggested no arguing. “I’ve enough tae take in without yer nuisance. Whatever needs tae be done, I’ll do it. Ye’ll have tae trust me.”
Turning on his heel, he walked around her, his sons in tow. Isadora didn’t follow; she watched her father walk away, heading back up the footpath toward their cottage as the silver moon illuminated the landscape.
But Isadora knew that determined look in her father’s eye; she’d seen it before, many times. When her father was on to an idea he considered solid, nothing would stand in his way and she could see, in that brief moment, that her father wanted action, too.
Something told Isadora that a trip to Edinburgh would soon be in their future.