Chapter 6 #3
While they waited for their food, Stellan described the area of the mud slide that had delayed them and the route they’d used to get around it.
Seamus’ courier would need that information to avoid the trouble they’d found along the way, and wondered if the courier who had brought Seamus’ original request had started yet for home.
Once they were served, Seamus said, “I hope ye willna be gone too long, but ye’ll have provisions to last a sennight to supplement what ye can find on the hunt.
We could do with fewer coneys.” He grinned, then excused himself to go speak to their cook about packing supplies for a week’s travel and left them to their meal.
Stellan appreciated the care and cooperation. Mariota had chosen well when she named Seamus to replace her as Laird MacKay. While Stellan ate, he talked over tactics and routes with Tormund, his other men, and a MacKay scout Seamus had sent to answer their questions.
All too soon, they were ready to go. The MacKay stable lads who had taken their horses when they arrived were already shifting their saddles, tack, and belongings to fresh mounts.
With a grateful farewell to Seamus, they left the MacKay keep and headed east along the coastline.
Seamus’ scout had told them where the rivers were safe to cross and warned them of bogs.
He would go as far as the Sinclair border with them.
After that, they would be on their own to travel as quickly as they were wont to do.
The countryside consisted of low, rolling hills, sandy bays, cliffs, and rugged insets where a boat might hide.
It was not always easy to see down to the coastline.
They risked standing on the edge of a cliff to peer down to the sea or what passed for a beach more times than Stellan wanted to recall.
The rest of the day passed more slowly than he would have liked. He kept his gaze on the sea, hoping to spot a Sutherland birlinn. He saw nothing but endless water and sky. Disquieted and disappointed, he called a halt as the late summer darkness fell, and they made camp.
“Anders’ birlinn could get by us in the dark,” his friend Tormund remarked.
“If they do, Seamus will send a ghillie after us.” Stellan hoped for exactly that. It would be the best outcome he could imagine.
Mariota was crossing the Sutherland bailey from the weaver’s workroom back to the keep when a MacKay ghillie arrived.
“Lady Mariota,” he cried when he saw her. “Well met. I have news for the Sutherland laird.” He slid off his horse and handed the reins to a lad who’d run out from the stable. “Walk her a wee to cool her,” he told the lad. “Please see she gets water and food. She’s traveled far.”
“Aye, I will,” the lad promised and led the horse away.
“What news, Bron? Is Stellan well? And his men?” Anxiety made her heart flutter, and the babe in her belly shifted in response.
“Aye, they’re well. There’s nay harm in telling ye the news I bring before I speak to the laird,” he added as they entered the great hall and Mariota gestured him toward the laird’s solar. “Anders’ ship hasna arrived yet. Stellan has gone to ride the coast and try to spot them.”
“Ach, nay!” She suddenly needed to sit down.
Bron stopped and took her hands, squeezing them between his. “Dinna fash, milady. It doesna mean there’s trouble, only that they have traveled more slowly than they wished.”
Mariota wanted to believe that, but all she could think about was how the idea for this contest had come from her.
From an innocent remark as they rode along the waters below Dunrobin.
Guilt made her chest hollow out. What if Anders was lost at sea?
Stellan would never recover from the loss of their men, much less his beloved twin.
“Milady?” Bron’s concerned tone snapped her out of her misery.
“Aye, the laird.” She led him in and introduced him. At Sutherland’s nod, she took a seat to the side of his work table.
Sutherland stood. “Ye have news? From Mariota’s expression, I willna like it.”
“’Tis only that Laird MacKay wished to keep ye aware of what has happened. Stellan and his men arrived well, though delayed by a storm and mudslide. Anders’ ship had not arrived by the time I left MacKay,” he continued.
Sutherland sank to his seat, his face going gray.
“It may have arrived there by now, Laird Sutherland. But even before I left to come here, Stellan rode out immediately to travel toward Sinclair along the coast to see if the birlinn is still on the way or beached, and to look for yer men. The MacKay is sending men after Stellan to pass along information. He will send news to ye as he learns more.”
Sutherland didn’t speak, but he clenched and unclenched his fist several times, and deep furrows divided his brows.
He looked anguished, but Mariota feared he was also tempted to throw out the MacKay man. The news Bron brought was not his fault, and he’d made a long, dangerous ride to bring it to them. She counted on Sutherland to remember that fact before he spoke.
She held her breath until Sutherland’s brow smoothed and he nodded.
“Ye are welcome to our hospitality. Food, drink, and a place to sleep until ye wish to return to MacKay. I thank ye for bringing me this news.”
“I wish ’twere better, Laird,” Bron told him.
Mariota was again amazed at Sutherland’s restraint.
This news was potentially terrible. Heartbreaking.
She could barely keep her seat. If Anders was lost at sea—something she had teased him about and that she now even more deeply regretted—and if Stellan went too far east and was taken prisoner by Sinclair, perhaps even killed, the Sutherland laird and clan might never recover from the loss of the twins.
She wanted to pace, to give voice to her fears, but she would not do that in front of their father.
Still, her mind kept spinning out how different the future they’d planned would be without her beloved husband.
Her son would be heir, but who would train him?
His only remaining uncle, Cameron, was wed to the Rose chief Mary Elizabeth and would not want to return permanently to Sutherland.
The current Sutherland might be too old by the time her son came of an age to begin his training—training that Stellan was meant to begin.
She fought tears of fear and regret. The Sutherland arms master was a good man, but he was not the father.
Stellan looked forward to undertaking his son’s early training.
She would be strong for the twins’ father and for her son, and for the child she carried.
Mariota rose and took the MacKay ghillie out into the great hall where she had a serving lass take charge of him. Then she returned to the solar.
Sutherland had not moved while she was out of the chamber. He still stared off into space, and Mariota most certainly did not want to know where his thoughts took him. Her own were too dire.
“I must send Sutherland men north to Sinclair, and call in Rose and Brodie reinforcements to keep Dunrobin and all of ye safe,” Sutherland said.
He was planning to go after his sons. “We dinna yet ken what we are dealing with,” Mariota reminded him “God willing, both of the twins are safe at MacKay by now. Seamus will send news.” She thought he would argue with her. She even hoped he would. But all he did was slump in his seat.
“Ye are right, lass. ’Tis too soon to call in our allies.”
“Still, ’twould be wise to prepare missives to send.
Just in case.” He was right that they would need men to reinforce the men—and her women archers—on Sutherland’s walls if he and most of his warriors headed north.
But without knowing where Anders and Stellan were, taking an army north to Sinclair could incite the very violence they wanted to avoid.
She put a hand over her belly, breathing deeply for her bairn and to calm herself.
Where was Stellan? Still safe in MacKay territory?
Or venturing into Sinclair in search of his twin, heedless of the risks he took?
Those questions made her heart hurt. She didn’t want her children growing up without their father.
Nor could she imagine life without Stellan.
She didn’t want to try, but if the worst happened, she would do what she must. She always had.