An uneasy silence fell, and Kellan strode away, stopping at the doorway to Weatherby’s room and engaging in a low conversation with the guard that stood there. It was clear they wouldn’t be seeing Weatherby until the food was brought, but without weapons, Robert and Brianna weren’t subjects of suspicion. She drifted over toward the fire, wanting to get a better sense of the condition of the refugees, and Robert followed her, clearly not wanting to leave her unprotected for too long – that protectiveness sent a burst of warmth through her chest and she suppressed the urge to smile.
It faded, anyway, in the face of what she saw in the firelight.
The little girl by the fire looked like she was barely breathing. Even Robert at her side took a sharp breath in when the woman holding her shifted her slightly. She looked to be about six years old, but she was so frightfully skinny that she could have passed for a much younger age… and it was a horrible thought, but Brianna couldn’t help but check to see if she was breathing, so fragile did she look, so close to death. Was the woman holding her, her mother? Brianna crouched down, glad that the warmth of the fire was at least warming the sleeping girl, and the woman shook her head softly.
“She hasn’t woken for more than a minute or two in days,” the woman said softly, the deep lines in her face accentuating her grief. “She’s in desperate need of care…”
“Aid is coming,” Robert promised, a stricken expression on his face as he looked around at the huddled group. There were other children, too – two of them, older than the little girl by several years and comparatively much more energetic – but they, too, were wan and sickly, clearly undernourished and not at all well. “Are you her mother?”
The woman shook her head, a look of sorrow on her face. “We lost Marian months ago, I’m afraid. Kellan’s yet to recover.”
Robert and Brianna exchanged glances as a few puzzle pieces clicked into place. So, this terribly sick young girl was Kellan’s daughter… and he’d already lost his wife to the famine. No wonder he had been desperate enough to resort to highway robbery, Brianna thought, shaking her head as she looked at the pale, sickly girl. No wonder he’d been desperate enough to attack Lord Weatherby’s manor, to threaten the man’s life like this…
The door swung open, the second guard stepping through with a nod. Half a dozen servants moved into the room, bent low under the weight of a considerable amount of food and what looked like bedding and clean clothes – a nice touch, Brianna thought approvingly, certain that Baldric was behind it – and a few basins of clean water. The huddled group lifted their faces, clearly drawn by the smell of the food – the servants glanced around, clearly uneasy around so many armed strangers, and Baldric, who’d brought up the rear with his own arms full of supplies, instructed them to leave.
Kellan had emerged from the room – Brianna heard him bark a quick order over his shoulder as he hurried down to the supplies. She assumed he was going to grab some food for himself, but instead he scanned through the supplies quickly before turning to Baldric. “The broth?”
“It’s here,” Baldric said neutrally – he had a covered bowl in his hands. “Weatherby first.”
As if on cue, Weatherby’s bedroom door opened, and the Lord appeared. He was still in his bedclothes, his usually carefully controlled hair looking disheveled and out of place, and the expression on his usually severe face was one of utter misery. His eyes lit on Baldric and his expression seemed to cheer immensely – but at the Lord’s impulse to rush across the room to his second in command, he received a sharp elbow in the ribs from the man at his right-hand side, and Brianna saw that the two men flanking him were holding weapons. One of them was red-headed and thickly set, and it took Brianna a moment to realize why that set him apart so from his fellows – it was because they were all so scrawny as a result of their malnutrition. Hired help, perhaps? The other man was as wiry as Kellan, with a muscular build and a look of tempered hope in his eyes as he looked down at the supplies that had been delivered for the refugees.
“There,” Kellan said firmly. “You see he’s just fine.”
“I am not fine,” Weatherby said, sounding utterly outraged. “How dare you. Attacked in my bed! Held hostage in my very own home – brutalized and manhandled!”
“Are you injured, sir?” Baldric asked, clearly itching to run to his Lord’s side – but the sharp eyes Kellan had trained on him kept him in his place close to the door.
Weatherby hesitated at that, clearly annoyed that he didn’t have anything to complain about on those lines, and Brianna felt herself relax. Good. No physical harm done – though the psychological distress was no doubt significant, especially for a man so spoiled and used to getting his way as Weatherby.
“Not yet,” he said darkly, giving the men at his sides a look that was full of loathing. “Though I don’t trust these scum as far as I could throw them –”
“Watch your mouth,” the bigger man spat. His eyes were still fixed on the food, and he started forward, narrowing his eyes. “Are we eating, then?”
“Not yet,” Kellan said sharply. “Keep an eye on Weatherby.” He approached Baldric and took the bowl of broth from his hands, then rushed to the fireside where the little girl was lying. Brianna felt a lump in her throat at the careful way the man gathered the girl to him, a father’s love in every worried line of his face.
“Molly,” he said softly, coaxing her awake. Brianna was aware of the other two men at Weatherby’s side, as well as the guard behind them – despite Kellan’s distraction, there was no way they were going to be able to do anything about Weatherby’s being held hostage. The Lord, giving both of his captors a dirty look, collapsed backwards into a chair that had been shoved away from the main area and toward the door. The wiry, muscular man rolled his eyes – the more heavy-set of the two still had his eyes trained on the food. Hungry, no doubt, after such a long period of famine.
But Kellan only had eyes for his daughter. “Come on, love,” he coaxed her, and Brianna saw her eyelids fluttering. “That’s the way. I’ve some lovely broth for you. It’ll make you feel so much better.”
She saw the girl’s lips move, but if she’d spoken, it was in far too quiet a voice to make out from this distance. The group gathered around the fire were watching the girl intently, clearly frightened for her life, and Brianna wondered sickly how long the girl had been like this, so visibly close to death’s door, hanging on by her fingernails… Kellan lifted a spoonful of broth to the girl’s lips and they parted, accepting a mouthful. She swallowed painfully, the effort clearly taking a lot out of her, then coughed, her frail shoulders shaking.
Somehow, as Brianna watched the man desperately try to nourish his starving child, she was finding it very hard to compare him to the criminals she usually negotiated with.
Chapter 21
Kellan coaxed three slower, agonizing spoonsful of broth into the little girl before she turned her head away, her shoulders hunched as she refused more. “Says she feels sick,” the woman behind him said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let her rest a moment while that settles, then we’ll give her some more.”
Kellan nodded, his face drawn, and only then did he turn his attention back to Robert and Brianna, who were standing by. Baldric had carefully approached Lord Weatherby, held at a distance by the men guarding him, and was talking in a low voice to the Lord, whose expression was irritable. Kellan cleared his throat, his sharp eyes taking in the exchange.
“We’ve much to discuss,” he said firmly, getting to his feet after gently handing his daughter to the woman who’d been minding her. The little girl was already asleep again, and Brianna bit her lip, wishing she’d been able to eat a little more of the broth. That was some serious malnutrition… she knew it wouldn’t be easily resolved. Part of her was worried that it was already too late to bring the girl back from the brink… what if she was just too frail to digest anything anymore?
“Aye, we do,” Robert said, nodding.
“We ap
preciate this,” Kellan said firmly, gesturing to the food – the huddled group were already distributing what was there, nibbling at the food carefully, clearly not used to having so much to eat. “This will go some way to restoring the strength of our group. But it’s not enough.”
“Of course not,” Weatherby said sourly from his chair. The two men at his side turned to him and he quailed, clearly a little too emboldened by having Baldric at his side – he’d forgotten who really held the power in this room.
“I’d advise you to be a little more polite,” Kellan snapped, turning a furious gaze to the Lord. “It’s your fault that all of this is unfolding – you and your English kinsmen. I’ll remind you that we have nothing, and you ought to be careful in your dealings with desperate men with nothing to lose.”
“Fine,” Weatherby said sourly. “What are your demands?”
“The same as they’ve ever been,” Kellan said darkly. “But I’m not negotiating with my hostage.” He turned his gaze back to Robert and Brianna, a thoughtful look on his face. “You two speak for the MacClarans and for Weatherby’s household?”
“We can negotiate on their behalf, yes,” Brianna said smoothly, feeling Robert nod in support beside her. “We just want an outcome that’s good for everybody.”
“Aye, don’t we all,” Kellan said, shaking his head. “Too late for my wife. And possibly too late for my daughter,” he added, his worried eyes going to little Molly. The woman he’d left her with was gently easing another spoonful of broth between her lips – seeing that progress was being made on that front, he turned back to Robert and Brianna. “Now. I’ll introduce you to my brother Malcolm and my cousin Perry. You’ll take their orders the same as you take mine.”
“Understood,” Robert said with a nod.
“Our demands are simple. For a start, we’ll need food and shelter until such time as we can restore our strength – that may be weeks, given Molly’s state,” he said, his eyes straying to the girl again. “This will be given without regret or resentment. Your household staff will be instructed to take our orders the way they’d take their Lord’s. Weatherby will be fed and cared for as well as we are, so I’d ensure generosity if I were you.”
Baldric had rejoined them – he nodded tightly, his eyes blazing with anger but clearly well under control.
“Don’t forget about the ransom,” the one Kellan had introduced as Malcolm urged – he was the more heavyset of the men, and of all of the Stuart group, he was the one who made Brianna uncomfortable. Something about those hard eyes, the greed on his face… she chided herself for thinking of a desperate man as greedy. Hadn’t he been starving along with all the others? “We want gold. And lots of it. For our pains.”
“Food first,” Kellan said irritably, shooting Malcolm a glance over his shoulder.
Brianna’s sharp eyes took in that resentment – and the grimace that crossed Perry’s face, too, at the sound of his kinsman’s voice. Some tensions, here? Those could be useful to exploit.
“We’ll need food for everyone, clean water, clean clothes – I note that there’s some here,” he added, nodding to the piles that the servants had brought. “Now you’re getting the message. Shame it took threats of violence to one of your own to get it done,” he added sourly, shooting a glance over his shoulder at Weatherby. “But better late than never. We’ll also want a doctor to see to Molly.”
“There are several excellent medicine women at the Keep,” Robert said firmly. “I’ll have someone sent for as soon as possible.”
Kellan’s eyes widened a little, and Brianna saw the way he glanced over his shoulder to where Perry was standing. The wiry man looked furious, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing, and as she looked at him she saw an impulse overcome him. “I said so,” he said in a low voice, shooting a furious glance at Malcolm. “Didn’t I say we should go to the –”
“The Keep’s overcrowded,” Malcolm snapped. “It’s Weatherby who’s got money. This is the right place for us.”
“It will be at least a day until we can get a healer to Molly,” Brianna said firmly, filing away that little dispute for later reflection as she brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. Kellan seemed grateful to her for interrupting the spat – he was swaying slightly on his feet, clearly battling exhaustion, and from the look of him he’d barely eaten a thing himself. “But I promise that the healers from the Keep are the best in the land.” The best in this era, she thought quietly to herself… but it didn’t seem like the best time to explain time travel to this angry, exhausted man.
“That’s only the start,” Kellan said firmly, clearly not wanting to get lulled into too much of a rapport with her and Robert. It was an expression she recognized – suspicious of the help he was being given, suspicious of how agreeable they were being, knowing it was only out of fear for the hostage. Sure enough, his eyes flicked over to Weatherby, ensuring he was still under guard. “Once we’re well enough to travel, we’ll be needing money to travel with, and supplies for the road to help get us set up when we find a new home, far from here.”
Weatherby looked furious at that – even from here, Brianna could see him preparing himself to say something stupid. So she spoke quickly, cutting across the Lord and keeping Kellan’s attention with her and Robert. “For now, let’s focus on the most pressing issue,” she said quickly, sensing she knew where Kellan’s priorities lay. “Molly.” That was strange – she saw Malcolm roll his eyes behind Kellan, looking disgusted at the sound of the girl’s name. He was Kellan’s brother – the girl’s uncle. Was he really so uninterested in her wellbeing?
But Kellan was nodding. “She’s not been well for months,” he said softly. “She’s starving. If we lose her, her death with be on your hands, Weatherby,” he snarled, his eyes flicking to the Lord before they returned to Brianna.
“Why don’t we set her up in her own room?” Brianna suggested. “Somewhere she can rest and recover, somewhere safe and quiet…”
“Is my house yours to offer, is that it?” Weatherby cried, looking outraged.
She narrowed her eyes at the Lord, feeling anger spark in her.
“The girl can have my room if necessary,” she snapped. “I’ll sleep in the stables if I must.”
Was that something like amusement on Kellan’s face – a brief flash of it, quickly eclipsed by his dour expression? Weatherby subsided, muttering something about there being plenty of space and waving a hand at Baldric to organize the girl a room. But Kellan looked hesitant.
“I don’t like the idea of her being elsewhere,” he said, narrowing his eyes. But Perry moved to his side.
“We’ve got Weatherby, don’t we?” the man said softly. Brianna could tell that he was a reasonable man by looking at him. “They wouldn’t dare do her any harm as long as we’ve got a blade to their Lord’s throat.”
“True enough,” Kellan said suspiciously.
“She’s a child,” Baldric said softly. “Weatherby wouldn’t allow harm to come to a child.”
“He allowed more than that to come to dozens of Stuart children over the last few months,” Kellan snapped, his eyes blazing, “so I’d ask you not to speak in his defense.”
The knight opened his mouth then closed it again, shaking his head. It was clear that he’d been beaten. Kellen Stuart had a point, which was the thing… nothing he’d said so far had been particularly unfair. People had been starving and dying, people who could easily have been helped months ago… and even Weatherby was looking a little uneasy, confronted as he was by the actual, human cost of his own persnickety refusal to offer any help to the ‘criminals’ who were occupying his land unlawfully. When a child looked as fragile and miserable as Molly did, it was hard to accuse her of being a criminal.
The little girl made a soft sound, and Kellan hurried to her side, kneeling down to where the woman was holding her. She’d made her way through most of the bowl of broth, and Kellan smiled to see that, the expression lifting years from his dour face. He whis
pered something gently to the girl, and the ghost of a smile crossed her face as her half-closed eyes flickered… then she was fast asleep again, curling into the arms of the woman who held her.
“She’s done well,” the woman said softly. “She finished almost the whole bowl without being sick. That will help restore a little strength. There’s a room ready?” she asked, her eyes raising automatically to Brianna.
Was it because she was a woman, Brianna wondered – or because she’d taken charge of the negotiations?
“Several rooms have been prepared,” Baldric said stiffly when Brianna glanced over to him. “One for each of you.”
Of course, he’d seen to such arrangements when he’d been out of the room – Brianna felt a burst of gratitude for the knight and his foresight.
“No need for Malcolm, Perry and I,” Kellan said firmly, tearing his eyes from his daughter’s sleeping face. “We’ll be staying right here with Weatherby.”
“Fair enough,” Robert acknowledged. “Would the rest of you like to go to your rooms for some rest?”
“Just to make this abundantly clear,” Kellan said firmly as the group began to rise to their feet, making their way toward the door where Baldric was waiting for them. “I’ll be making visits to each of my people, morning and night. If any of them have anything negative to say about the hospitality they’re receiving, those comments will be reflected in harm being done to Lord Weatherby here. Is that understood?”
“Each of the Stuarts will be treated as an honored guest,” Weatherby said through gritted teeth. “Baldric will see to it. Won’t you, Baldric?”
“Yes, my Lord,” the knight said, inclining his head.
“No harm will come to your people,” Robert said softly. “You have my word as a MacClaran and a Scotsman, Kellan.”
The man nodded, still looking suspicious – but Brianna could see a breath of relief escape him as the huddled crowds were escorted from the room. His eyes followed the woman who was carrying Molly out, clear anguish on his face… then he took a deep breath and turned back to Robert and Brianna.
Highlander Returned: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 9) Page 15