Highland Seer

by Willa Blair

  She’d sent an ally out to face the night and its dangers alone.

  She was Laird.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, she found Fergus out of bed, sitting in a chair by a sunny window. He’d been resting more comfortably the last day or two, growing more ill-tempered by the minute, which made Ellie very happy. Getting him involved in the planning to safeguard the MacKyrie keep was just what he needed. She needed his counsel, despite her trust of Donal. Fergus knew the keep and its surroundings better than anyone alive.

  “Who got ye out of bed?” Her tone brooked no nonsense. She hid her delight at seeing him dressed and waiting for her.

  “I got myself up, woman. I dinna need yer coddling. The fever’s gone. I’m ready to take on the MacDuff or anyone else who dares to sully our hall.”

  “Does that include the Lathans?”

  “What? Are ye daft? Nay.”

  “That’s good, because they’re on their way here to seek yer wisdom.”

  Fergus sat straighter at that comment.

  “Aye, as they should.”

  A knock at the door saved Ellie from the urge to giggle at Fergus’s display of ego. She admitted Micheil, Donal, and the other Lathans. Suddenly, the room seemed too small, crowded with the size and bulk of the five strong warriors and the MacKyries.

  “’Tis good to see ye among the living,” Donal told Fergus as he offered his hand, wearing as close to a pleased expression as ever graced his face. Perhaps it was just a lessening of his habitual scowl. Nonetheless, Ellie’s face heated to see it. And Fergus seemed to bask in it as one would bask in the rays of the summer sun, warmed and soothed by its light and heat. Despite her concern that this meeting would exhaust Fergus’s limited reserves, she was suddenly very glad Donal had suggested it.

  “I’m no’ that easy to kill,” Fergus replied, pushing himself to his feet, then clasping Donal’s offered hand.

  “Sit, all of ye,” Ellie demanded, knowing Fergus would not return to his seat until the rest were comfortable. The longer he stayed on his feet, the more his color faded. She perched on the bedside stool and tipped her head, silently urging the others down. It wouldn’t do the old man any good to pass out in front of these warriors. Fortunately, they wasted no time finding a chair or a patch of floor to make their own. In moments, Fergus resumed his seat.

  “Now,” she began and glanced at Donal. His icy green eyes were fixed on her. A shiver ran up her spine. She looked away at Fergus, needing to collect herself so she could continue speaking. “Fergus kens the MacKyrie lands like no other. If we’re to mount an effective defense, ye must hear what he has to say about the countryside and the neighboring clans.”

  Fergus nodded while she spoke, giving her her due as laird to start the discussion. Once she stopped speaking, he looked from one Lathan to the next until he’d skewered them all with his gaze. Ellie kept her expression neutral. This was the Fergus of old, gathering his audience, making sure of their attention. She’d seen him do this many times with everyone from young lads training to be warriors to the MacKyrie men gathered around the hearth telling stories. That thought gave her a moment’s pause, recalling their lost men and the way life used to be.

  “Ye look to be a braw lot,” Fergus began, interrupting her woolgathering, “but there’s no’ enough of ye to man the battlements, fight on the ground, and guard the distillery and the whisky deliveries as well.”

  Donal nodded as he leaned forward. “All too true,” he replied.

  “As I see it,” Fergus responded with barely a pause, “the most important task right now is to get the whisky to market. We need the income to ensure the future of MacKyrie.”

  “Ye advise leaving the keep undefended?” Micheil stated his objection with a fierce scowl.

  “With the gates closed, this keep is well able to keep out most of the neighboring ruffians.”

  “Most?”

  Ellie applauded Donal’s astuteness at picking up what Fergus was carefully leaving out.

  Fergus cleared his throat. “Some willna bother us. But some, like the MacDuff”—Fergus paused and canted his head toward Ellie—“are determined to win MacKyrie however they can. We’ve fought skirmishes with them for years. That’s taken a sad toll on our fighting men.”

  “Aye, we’ve seen the results.” Donal’s ironic words had no effect on the rest of his men. They remained still, watching Fergus and Donal without interfering.

  “The MacDuff expects to ride into our keep through its open gates whenever he takes a mind to.”

  “Then the gates must close to him, especially while we’re out of the keep.”

  “But the villagers,” Ellie objected. “They’re accustomed to coming and going freely.”

  “Then they’ll learn another way,” Donal told her. “’Tis for their safety, too.” He turned back to Fergus. “When is the last time ye had to defend the keep from attack by the nearby clans?”

  “They’ve no’ attacked in a long while, no’ with arms anyway. They’ve been trying to win us another way, as suitors for our laird, hoping to gain control of the clan, its lands and its distillery.”

  “We ken that.”

  “Then ye also ken our Ellie is no’ gettin’ any younger.”

  Ellie blanched and narrowed her eyes at him, as if to tell him, Watch it, old man. I’m still Laird here.

  Fergus gestured in her direction. She sat up straighter, knowing what he was about to say and dreading it. Yet wanting Donal to hear it. Just Donal. Not all these others. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her love life with this group of hardened warriors.

  “Time is runnin’ out for our laird to marry and start having her heirs. The quickest way to put a stop to some of this nonsense is for her to take a consort, but none of the local lairds suits her.”

  Ellie gritted her teeth as her face heated. “Fergus...” she warned, embarrassed that the other Lathans were privy to this, but the old man had the bit in his teeth and wouldn’t let go.

  “We canna do anything about that,” Donal said, and Ellie’s pulse plummeted. “We must plan how to best use our manpower until Jamie returns with reinforcements. Perhaps among those men will be the answer to yer clan’s dynastic concerns.”

  Thank ye, Donal, she thought, not without irony, since he was the one she wanted as consort. If ever a topic needed changing, that one did. But he had heard what she needed him to hear, though he’d quickly deflected it. Aye, she’d like nothing better than to explore her clan’s dynastic concerns, as he put it—privately—with Donal, but that would have to wait for another time, another opportunity. Fergus had planted the seed of the idea. Would it reinforce what she’d already told Donal? Would the idea take root and grow?

  “Tell me,” Donal began, shifting his weight and taking charge of the conversation, “where ye were headed when the bandits attacked.”

  “We were on our usual route to some of the local villages. We leave casks and kegs as they require and offload most of the weight. From there, we stop by several farms. They always want smaller quantities—flasks or jugs rather than a full keg. Most pay in coin. Some barter whatever they grow or raise.”

  “Is that the only route to reach them?”

  “Nay, the most direct. We could run the route backward, but that would mean carrying most of the weight the entire way. ’Twould be harder on the coos pullin’ the wagons, but it could be done. They’re strong wee beasties.”

  “What if ye took another way out of the glen, and didna use the pass?”

  “That would take us well out of our way. Though, other customers lie in other directions.”

  “Tell us more about the route,” Donal said, directing his gaze to the floor. He began moving a finger as if mentally drawing a map there.

  This was a side of Donal she’d not recognized before now. Usually he deferred to Jamie for conversation and let his frown speak for him. Now, he led the discussion. He listened carefully and seemed to absorb all of the information Fer
gus could give him. He looked focused and asked thoughtful questions. But of course. When she recalled everything Donal had done since he’d arrived, including how he’d used the fight between Bram and Micheil, she realized what an extraordinary leader he was. A man who would think before acting. The sort of war leader her clan needed.

  “Once ye get over the pass,” Fergus said, bringing her out of her reverie, “ye’re into deep woods with clearings here and there, much as where ye found us. But that opens up as ye approach the first village and stays open down a long glen for the next three villages. Then ye wrap around, climb past several farmsteads, and approach the pass again.”

  “The immediate problem is that ye’re late for deliveries to those villages?”

  “Aye,” Ellie and Fergus answered in chorus.

  Donal directed his gaze to Fergus after a brief glance at Ellie set her pulse jumping in her throat. “And ye think the raiders were MacDuffs?”

  Fergus looked down at his feet, then back up at Donal. “I canna be certain. I wish I could. I’d like nothing better than to prove that lot are reiving, but I didna recognize a-one of them.”

  “Then ye need more proof, aye?”

  “Aye, we do,” Ellie interjected. “We canna go to war with MacDuff over that raid or the damage to the distillery if we canna prove they attacked us.”

  “Ye canna go to war with anyone, lass,” Donal chided gently. “Ye havena the men, trained or untrained, to fight much more than a duel.”

  Ellie frowned at the truth of that statement. Fergus’s mouth thinned into a grim line.

  “One problem at a time,” she said. “What do ye propose to do about the delivery?”

  “We’ll escort it,” Donal said.

  “Aye,” Bram added, breaking his watchful silence.

  “No’ all of ye,” Ellie replied.

  “No’ all of us,” Donal agreed. “Bram and Forbes will go, aye and Innis, too,” he added as Innis raised his hand.

  “When?” Fergus asked.

  “The wagons are still loaded, aye?” Donal looked to Ellie for an answer.

  “Aye, but it will take a few more days of good weather to be able to get them over the pass. What’s clear enough to get through on horseback may no’ be so for the wagons.”

  Donal nodded. “Then a rider will go up each day until it is clear enough for the wagons. Then they’ll go.”

  Ellie nodded. That would do. With the Lathans in escort, deliveries would resume. Payments would be made and at least one set of worries about the future of her clan would go away. The idea that they were going to be able to do something to improve her clan’s lot cheered her. She smiled at Donal. He didn’t smile back, but his gaze stayed on her as his fingers tapped against his knee. Pondering? Jamie had only left last night. ’Twas too soon to expect help there. Was he replaying the conversation? Had he absorbed the comment that Fergus made about her needing a consort to put a stop to the ambitions of the other lairds? Suddenly self-conscious, Ellie wrenched her gaze away from him.

  “Fergus,” she began. She had no idea what to say, but she had to say something to break the silence.

  “Aye, Laird. That will do for the near term.”

  Ellie sighed with relief. Fergus had the strategy firmly in hand.

  “Donal and the others must continue drilling the lads and make sure the watch remains alert at the walls,” Fergus added.

  “We’ll keep the gates closed,” Ellie said, regaining her equilibrium. “That will be inconvenient when the villagers need to come and go, but it will ensure our defenses are as solid as we can make them.”

  “Aye,” Donal approved. “Fergus, what else do we need to ken about the neighboring clans.”

  “Little enough,” Fergus answered. “The MacDuff has boasted of several who might have attacked, claiming they didna wish to start a war with him over our lovely laird’s hand. But that doesna mean they’re above raiding when they see a profit in it.”

  “Fair warning,” Donal agreed, nodding.

  Ellie sat back as they hashed out tactics and contingencies, content to let the ebb and flow of their conversation wash over her. Their discussion impressed her. No detail escaped them, no contingency remained that did not have a plan to counter it. Thanks to the Lathans, Ellie could finally believe clan MacKyrie had a future.

  ****

  The strategy session was breaking up and several of the Lathans had already left when a young lass from the village hurried into the room. “Laird MacKyrie,” she gasped.

  Ellie went to her. “What’s amiss, Bethie?”

  Once she’d caught her breath, the lass announced, “Annie asks for ye and the healer. Her bairn is comin’.”

  Ellie glanced around. Fergus and Donal were still deep in conversation. “I’ll come with ye. Ye ken where Nan’s herbal is, aye? Likely ye’ll find her there. Tell her to meet me at the gate. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  With a nod, Bethie ran to find the healer. Donal came up to Ellie.

  “Are ye leaving the keep?”

  “Ye heard, then? Aye, but just to go to the village.”

  “I dinna want ye outside these walls without an escort. I’ll go with ye.”

  “That’s not necessary, Donal.”

  “It is.” His fierce expression brooked no dissent. “What if MacDuff took it into his head to kidnap ye?”

  “He could do that from within the keep’s walls, could he no’?”

  “No’ as easily. Outside yer walls, without a gate to prevent his leaving, he could ride off with ye and that would be that. He may still be lurking about the glen, even though ye ordered him out o’ the keep. I’ll no’ chance it.”

  Ellie grimaced at the thought.

  “Listen to the man,” Fergus advised. “He’s right and ye ken it.”

  Ellie nodded. “Very well. Meet me at the gate. I’ll go get my cloak.”

  Donal, Bethie, and the healer, Nan, were already waiting when she arrived. They quickly made their way down the muddy path into the village to the small home of Annie and Adair. “’Tis her first,” Nan told them before they entered the small structure. “So it may not be her time yet, though she shows some of the signs.”

  Nan went in with Bethie. Ellie turned to Donal. “Ye dinna need to stay.”

  “Ye ken I do.”

  “We could be here for hours yet.”

  “Then I will be as well. Dinna think to fight me on this, Ellie. Ye ken why I’m here. I willna allow ye to risk yerself.”

  Ellie scowled. “Allow me? What makes ye think ye can control my movements in my own holding, Donal MacNabb?” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Judging by the frown Donal directed at her, she’d just confirmed his objections to becoming involved with her. She was laird here, and he was no one. She shook her head. Idiot. “Nay, Donal. I’m sorry. I didna mean it that way.”

  “’Tis the truth. I canna force ye.” He paused and shook his head, a hint of a grin playing around his lips. “But I can—force ye, that is. Ye’re no match for me, though ye are laird and I must do as ye bid.”

  Ellie began to relax a little, thinking he would bow to her wishes, even as she regretted that he would bow to her authority rather than to please her as woman.

  “Except when ye put yerself at risk and my presence can keep ye safe. If ye dinna want a man inside, then I’ll stand guard out here. Either way, ye willna leave the walls of yer keep without an armed escort. Do ye understand me?”

  Ellie heaved a sigh. He was right. He knew it. Fergus had said it. She knew it, too.

  “Aye, I do. Very well, ye can stay out here to keep an eye out for trouble. If ye hear screaming inside, remember what’s goin’ on in there. A woman giving birth is likely to complain about it, loudly. Screaming is normal.”

  “I ken it, lass. I’ve heard the like before. Now go on with ye. I willna burst in unless I hear ye calling for me.”

  Ellie nodded and turned to the door just as Nan stuck her head out. “Ye needn’t come in, Laird,�
� she told Ellie. “As I suspected, she’s nowhere near to her time. She’s young for this and frightened of every new twinge. And her lad is worse. I’ll stay with them for a while until they settle down, then return to the keep.” She looked past them and smiled. “’Tis a nice day for a walk. Ye should enjoy being outside the walls for a time before ye go back.”

  Ellie started to agree, then cut a glance to Donal.

  He glanced around and shrugged. “Why no’?”

  “’Tis a lovely idea, Nan. We will. Get back before dark, aye?”

  She nodded and ducked back inside, closing the door behind her.

  Ellie turned to Donal. “Which way?”

  “Wherever ye wish, Laird.”

  Ellie paused. “It’s just us, Donal. Call me Ellie. Please. I never meant to be laird. I’m no’ so different from ye.”

  Donal didn’t speak, though the set of his shoulders made his answer plain to see. Ellie sighed.

  “Very well. Let’s go this way.”

  Ellie led him farther into the village. They passed the smithy, where they could hear the young smith hard at work pounding something out, so they kept going. “We lost our blacksmith with the rest, but his apprentice keeps us in pot hooks and does whatever metalwork we need. His skill has improved but without a master blacksmith to teach him, I fear there’s only so much he’ll ever be able to do.”

  “Perhaps there will be help to be had from one of the treaty clans.”

  “That would be welcome. Look there.” Ellie pointed at a high meadow. “Those three coos should be down with the rest in winter grazing, not up there rooting in the snow. There are more like those. We’ll lose some, but we havena the time or people to seek for all of them, nor to herd them all to safety.”

  She stopped an older lad and pointed out the wayward cattle. “Find some help and round them up if ye can,” she told him before she and Donal walked on, leaving the muddy track through the village and venturing out into the snow-covered glen between the village and the woods.