Chapter 11
Eleven
By midmorning of the next day, Sin was painfully aware of the fact that this might be the first time in his life he’d actually failed his mission. None of Callie’s people would speak to him. The instant he approached, they would stubbornly set their jaws and hasten away.
Not that they were the first to treat him that way. Still, if he were to find the ones responsible for the attacks, he would need them to at least open their mouths in his presence.
He sat in the hall with his brothers and Simon, eating while he told them of his morning misadventure.
“Well,” Braden said, “if you’d take to wearing Scot’s clothes it would help. It’s hard to warm up to a cold English knight.”
Lochlan froze at his youngest brother’s thoughtless words. Unlike Ewan and Braden, he knew the reason Sin disdained Scot’s attire. In his mind, he saw his father returning from the Kilgarigon fair with matching plaid cloth for him and his sons.
Braden had still been in swaddling. Their mother had wrapped the infant up in a portion of green and black plaid while he, Kieran and Ewan had proudly donned their plaids that matched their father’s.
“There’s my boys,” his father had announced proudly as he looked them over and ruffled their hair.
Lochlan had been smiling until he caught sight of Sin in a corner. In their excitement, they had forgotten all about him and as he typically did, Sin had withdrawn into the shadows where he stood sullenly with his arms crossed over his chest.
He would never forget the look on his older brother’s face as Sin watched them. Sin’s young eyes had been filled with envy and pain.
Lochlan had turned to their father. “Da? Where is Sin’s plaid?”
His father had ignored the question and continued to play with Ewan and Kieran.
His young mother had not been so kind. “Plaid cloth is for people of true Scot’s blood, Lochlan. They are not for half-blooded Sassenachs.”
If he lived forever, Lochlan would never understand his mother’s cruelty toward Sin. Nor his father’s complete lack of regard.
Worse, he had found Sin later that day, alone in their room. Sin had been sitting in the middle of the floor with his arm cut open while he let blood trail from the wound into the bowl.
Horrified, Lochlan had run to him and covered the wound with a cloth to stop the bleeding. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get rid of the English blood in me, but it doesn’t look any different than yours.” Sin’s eyes had been hollow and empty. “How can I make it go away when I can’t find the difference?”
They had bandaged Sin’s arm together and had never again spoken of that moment. But it had haunted Lochlan ever since.
Lochlan looked to Sin who sat beside Simon. In truth, Sin’s strength awed him.
“I’ll not ever put another plaid on my body,” Sin said to Braden.
“I’ll do it,” Simon volunteered cheerfully while he ate. “What the hell? I even have the red hair for it.”
Lochlan smiled, even though he still ached with the pain of his memory. “I think we need to adopt Simon as an official MacAllister. What say you, brothers?”
Braden nodded. “I think he fits right in. Ewan?”
“I would nod, but my head hurts too much for it.”
Sin snorted. “Given how much ale you consumed last night, I’m amazed you can even sit upright.”
Suddenly concerned, Lochlan eyed his brother. “How much did you drink last night?”
“Somewhere between too much and not enough.”
Lochlan rolled his eyes, wishing he knew what to do to return Ewan to the man he’d been before Isobail had changed him.
“Back to the rebels…” Lochlan tried to focus on an issue he could actually help with. “If they’re no longer raiding Henry’s people, why bother?”
Sin looked at him drolly. “Because they could start again at any time.”
Suddenly, a cry of alarm rang out.
The men ran for the door, with Ewan cursing every step due to his head. Braden swung the door wide to show an English messenger entering the bailey on the back of a brown stallion.
Sin shook his head at the sight. By the faces of the Scots around the herald, it was obvious he was the only person they welcomed less than they had him.
As soon as the man spotted Sin and Simon, he relaxed a degree. If Sin hadn’t been concerned about what brought the man into their midst, the gesture would have amused him since it was the first time in his memory that anyone had actually been relieved by his presence.
The herald dismounted and brought a sealed parchment to him. “From my Lord Ranulf who holds the lands of Oxley.”
Sin popped the seal and read the message. His vision turned dark with every word he read. “Did he send word to Henry?”
“Aye, milord. And the king sent word that he will be headed this way to inspect the damage himself.”
“What is it?” Lochlan asked.
Sin looked up to see his wife approaching them from the direction of the kitchens.
He waited until she stood before him before he answered Lochlan’s question.
“It appears a group of MacNeelys raided Oxley’s lands.
He lost almost a score of cows and his village was burned to the ground.
His people lost all their harvesting and now will be hard-pressed to make it through the winter.
” He gave Callie a hard stare to make her realize the exact gravity of the situation.
“On a nearby tree they found a note saying ‘English be gone from Scot’s soil’. And it was signed The MacNeely.”
Callie’s face paled. “Aster didn’t do that. He would never condone such.”
“I know.” Sin folded the message back up. “He knows better than to bring down the wrath of Henry on his head.”
He looked to the messenger. “Tell your lord I shall personally see to the matter and find the man who did this.”
The herald nodded.
“What do you intend to do?” Callie asked.
“I want you to round up every male in your clan over the age of ten-and-four and have them here by day’s end. I want to have words with them.”
He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she actually paled even more. “I think that would be most unwise. They might attack you.”
Lochlan stiffened. “They attack my brother and they attack us. You let them know that. I doubt there’s a man born in your clan who wants to go to war with the MacAllisters.”
She nodded. “I will do it.”
Sin watched as his wife left to do his bidding. She wore her hair plaited today. Even so, tendrils of it had escaped the tight braids and were curling in a becoming fashion all around her face. As typical, she wore her father’s plaid and made quite an appealing sight as she walked across the yard.
And with every step she took that swayed her hips, he felt himself growing harder and harder for her.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Lochlan asked.
“Like the first day of spring after a long, harsh winter.” The words were out before Sin realized it.
Four pairs of eyes turned to him in astonishment.
“Poetry?” Ewan burst out laughing.
Sin shoved him.
Still, his brothers laughed. “Methinks Sin is smitten,” Braden teased. “Lochlan, you’d best fetch a priest and exorcize him.”
Sin growled at him. “He’d best fetch a priest to perform Last Rites for you before I kill you.”
Braden laughed even harder.
“Oh come now,” Simon said to them. “Let’s be kind to poor Sin.”
Sin inclined his head to him. “Thank you, Simon.”
“After all, I think ‘tis sweet.”
Sin groaned as they continued to harass him.
“Sweet!” Lochlan howled. “Oh aye, like a ferocious little lion cub.”
Sin snorted. “I don’t want to hear it from a man who parades himself around in a skirt.”
His three brothers stiffened.
“Beg pardon?” Ewan asked.
“You heard me.” Sin looked to Simon and smiled devilishly. “Now I ask you, who is sweeter? The man in breeches or the ones in skirts?”
They lunged for him.
Sin ducked and rolled out from under their feet.
“He’s mine!” Ewan snarled.
Sin ran before they could catch him.
Callie looked up as her husband entered the stable behind her. He was running so fast, she barely recognized him. Two seconds after he entered the stable, she saw why.
His brothers and Simon were hot on his heels like a group of children playing chase.
“What is this?” she asked.
Sin ran behind her and put her between him and his brothers. “‘Tis nothing,” he said, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably.
The five men were panting from their exertion.
Lochlan caught his breath first. “Hiding behind a woman, are you? Since when did you turn craven?”
She looked over her shoulder to see the taunting look on Sin’s face.
“Not hiding. I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Ewan scoffed. “Oh right, like we’d be the ones hurting.”
The three MacAllisters lunged, but Callie brought them up short before they could reach her husband. “He is injured.”
Braden narrowed his gaze on Sin. “Not half as injured as he’s going to be.”
Callie spread her arms wide to keep the brothers from her husband. “What is all this about, then?”
Lochlan drew himself up indignantly and appeared to be greatly offended by her question. “He insulted us.”
“And so you’re going to pummel him?” she asked incredulously.
“Aye,” they answered in unison.
She ran her hand over her forehead, already she could feel an ache there from trying to deal with the hot-headed group. She directed her stare to Lochlan. “And you are laird of what again?” She paused and clucked her tongue. “Oh, I forgot … a respected and feared clan.”
Lochlan cleared his throat.
“That’s right, my love,” Sin said from behind her, “you tell him.”
“And you...” She turned to face her husband. “King’s advisor, was it?” She shook her head at them, even though inside she found their behavior charming and refreshing.
Sin cast them a sullen glare. “They started it.”
“Oh well, that makes it right then.” Tsking, she cast a chiding look to all of them. “Now, children, I have work to be about. What say the five of you make nice and return to your food?”