“Cousin, I agree that that is a grievous thing, something that cries out for explanation and discussion, but why did ye nay stay and confront him?” she finally asked, deciding that being direct was the best way to speak with Arianna. “Your husband is the only one who can really answer your questions.”
“I was too angry and hurt. Brian was away, and suddenly I just had to get away as weel. I dinnae think we could have had a reasonable discussion about it. I was afraid I was so angry that I would say things that could not later be forgiven or forgotten. I just needed to go somewhere, away from all his kin, and think about all this. Is it acceptable to you that I stay here for a wee while?”
“Aye, ye may stay as long as ye wish. I will say, however, that it isnae as peaceful as it looks about here, so ye may change your mind soon enough.”
“Nay, I doubt I will. It isnae often that peaceful at Scarglas, either.”
Before Triona could explain what was wrong at Banuilt, she saw young Peggy, the nursemaid, enter with Ella. She welcomed the distraction, for she was not certain she wished to expose her troubles to these people, at least not in full. She smiled at her daughter as the little girl hurried to her side. Ella was newly turned five and so pretty that Triona often wondered how she had borne such a jewel. With her wild, dark red curls and big blue eyes, she was so bright it always made Triona a little too aware of her own dullness. She quickly introduced her daughter to their guests, pleased with the way Ella curtsied and greeted them all with perfect courtesy.
“Mother, I kenned ye had guests but wondered if that meant ye willnae be telling me a story ere I go to sleep,” Ella said quietly as she leaned against Triona’s side and lightly stroked her long braid. “I sleep much better when ye tell me a story.”
Coaxing little wench, Triona thought with affection. “Och, aye, I shall be up to see ye to bed verra soon, love,” Triona said and then looked at Peggy. “Wouldnae settle until she saw who was visiting, aye?” she asked, and grinned when Peggy laughed and nodded.
“I told her we could see ye for just a moment for ye must tend to your guests,” said Peggy.
“And I said I should be able to see who has come into my home,” said Ella. “We ne’er have guests and I wanted a wee peek.”
“And ye have had one now, lass, so go on back to your room and I shall come up soon,” said Triona, and then kissed her on the cheek.
Ella nodded, said good night to everyone, and let Peggy lead her out of the great hall. Triona was still smiling about how her daughter had managed to get herself introduced to the guests as she turned back to Arianna and caught the woman looking wistful. Since Arianna was carrying a child, she had to wonder what the woman was thinking about, as she would soon be gifted with her own child.
“Do ye wish to have a daughter?” she asked quietly.
“I but wish to have a fine healthy bairn,” Arianna said. “Your daughter is a beautiful little girl, Cousin. And verra bright. Her father must have cherished her.”
Triona grimaced. “I would like to say he did, but I fear he barely noticed her. By the time she grew those lovely red curls and showed a hint of the promise of true beauty, he began to take a small interest in her, but then the fever came and took him. Boyd wanted a son, ye see. He appreciated having a child to carry on his bloodline, but he truly wanted a son to take the laird’s seat once he was gone.”
“Ah, foolish mon. She is a bonnie, clever wee lass, and he lost something by nay seeing it and enjoying her for as long as he could.”
“I ken it but so did she, and that is even sadder.” After rinsing her fingers off in the finger bowl, Triona wiped them on her linen napkin and stood up. “Enjoy the food and drink. I will nay be long, but I must tell Ella her story or she will be back here pestering for it soon.”
“Go along and see to the lass then,” said Arianna. “We will settle here and be ready to tell ye all the news we have when ye return.”
That was something Triona looked forward to, and she hurried off to see to her daughter. She was eager to hear whatever news Arianna and the others had to tell her. She so rarely had had any visitors when married and was forced to be very subdued around them when they came, and no one visited since the fever had devastated Banuilt, so she did not feel guilty when she hurried through her storytelling.
“Weel, what has all of ye frowning and looking so serious?” Arianna asked the men as soon as Triona was gone.
“There is something nay right here, Arianna,” Brett said. “We all can see that.”
“Aye, I saw it as weel. I saw a village that had lost far too many of its people to a vicious fever only eighteen months past.”
“How did ye learn that?”
“The maid Mary loves to talk and is too sweet, and mayhap nay so sharp of wit, that she will tell one anything one wishes to ken. She said near half the people here, including the laird, were killed by the fever. She also said that most of the surviving garrison packed up and went to France to fight for the French and bring home full purses, planning to aid Banuilt in returning to what it once was. There does appear to be a little trouble with the laird to the west of them, but Mary actually grew cautious when mentioning him, which led me to believe that the trouble may be serious and still continues. Mary trying to be cautious was quite a wonder to behold, too. But this laird may be why Triona warned us that all is nay as peaceful as it seems here. I didnae press Mary then, but I will in time.”
Brett laughed and shook his head. “Verra weel done. Howbeit, I think it would be a verra good idea if we tried to find out about that trouble young Mary didnae want to talk about.”
“Aye, so do I,” said Arianna, and frowned. “She grew verra confusing when I asked, muttering something about fields on fire and livestock stolen.”
“Mayhap we should find another place for ye to have your sulk,” said Harcourt as he grabbed the jug of ale and refilled his tankard.
“Sulk?” Arianna glared at her cousin. “It isnae a sulk; it is a righteous anger.”
“Then mayhap this isnae the place to nurse your righteous anger ere your husband comes riding up to find ye.”
The way Arianna was looking at Harcourt and gripping her knife made Brett think it was time to divert her attention. “So ye think there is some threat here?”
“I dinnae think it is a big threat,” Arianna replied after one last glare at Harcourt. “I dinnae feel that the people here are all afraid and readied for a fight, do ye?”
“Nay,” Brett replied after thinking about it for a moment. “Nay, there is no sense that Banuilt is a place under siege. Of course, how much of that is because the men here are so poorly trained, I cannae say. Yet there is nay doubt in my mind that there is trouble here, and I mean to find out what it is. Howbeit, if e’en the maid, who ye think isnae all that quick of wit and far too trusting, grows careful with her words when asked, it may nay be as easy as I thought to find out the truth. E’en Lady McKee’s warning was gentle and vague.”
“There is one thing ye could do if ye think I am nay as safe as I should be here.”
“And what is that?” asked Brett, not trusting the sweet smile she gave him.
“See if ye can give those poor lads out there a little skill. The men who went to France clearly didnae train anyone to take their place.”
“That is true enough,” muttered Callum. “I havenae seen such lack of skill in a verra long time, leastwise nay in the men who should be guarding the gates.”
They all fell silent when Nessa and two young girls came to clear away the remains of the meal and set out fruit and tarts for them to enjoy. Again, unlike the older Nessa, the young girls revealed their lack of training, being hesitant and just a little awkward. Brett decided that the fever Arianna had spoken of had taken a great toll amongst the ones who served in the manor.
“Are ye certain the fever has left the area?” he asked the moment they were alone again.
“Aye,” replied Arianna as she cut up an apple. “I spoke of worrying about my child, an
d Mary was very concerned but assured me that no one has had e’en the smallest of illnesses since the last one died of the fever. It took people quickly and viciously, from all she said. Came into the village and the manor and cut them down and was gone within a fortnight, only the still sick and dying left behind. She said it also hit Gormfeurach, the land to the west. Poor child lost two sisters and her mother. That all happened about two years ago.”
“I have heard of such things, but such a fierce, quick, deadly illness is often found in cities or within the ranks of an army. ’Tis odd to hear of one out here where there are nay a lot of people crowded together.”
“Mary told me that Nessa thinks it came through with some drovers. After they recovered, a few men found new graves a few miles down along the drovers’ route. She also recalls that one of the men didnae look verra hale, but the men came and went so quickly none thought of it until the first one of their own fell ill.”
“They must have stopped at the other keep as weel then.”
“Or someone from Banuilt passed it on, because Mary said the two wee clans were verra close until recently.”
“Ah, something to look into. It may be just that the people at Gormfeurach blame the people here for the sickness, but there could be more to it.”
“There may be, for I think Mary would have said if it was just blame for the fever. After all, it could just as easily have been someone from Gormfeurach who passed it to the drovers or one of the people here.” Arianna glanced toward the doors of the great hall and smiled when Triona stepped into the room a heartbeat later. “Just in time for the sweet, Cousin.”
“I am sorry I left ye to yourselves like that, but Ella isnae used to our having guests, and it may take her time to understand that she will have to wait for some things,” said Triona as she sat down next to Arianna. “I did just explain it to her, but I am nay sure she is old enough to grasp that truth yet. There is also the chance she just may nay wish to grasp it, either.”
“Weel, we dinnae mind if ye have to leave to tend to your child from time to time. Ye must nay think that ye have to be at our beck and call. I have imposed my company”—she nodded at the men—“and theirs, upon ye without invitation. I apologize for that.”
“Nay need. I fear I have nay thought to invite anyone since my husband died, and in truth, he didnae invite many here before that. He preferred to go to them.” He had also preferred her not to mingle with them much at all, but her cousin did not need to know that.
“Weel, allow me to tell ye all the news I have then, as it appears ye dinnae get verra much out here.”
Triona poured herself some cider and listened raptly as Arianna told her about France and Scarglas. The tales of the MacFingals, ones the men occasionally added to also, had her both amused and amazed. Arianna had married into a very large and strange family, yet she could hear the affection for them all in her cousin’s voice.
A part of her was jealous of all her cousin had done, and even more jealous of how she had found herself part of such a large, loving family. Triona recognized her jealousy but found no rancor in it, just an understandable envy. She had never had such things but had always wanted them. An equal part of her was happy for Arianna because, despite her anger at her husband, Triona could hear the love she had for the man every time she spoke of him.
When Arianna admitted to being tired and needing to seek her bed, Triona also excused herself. She wanted to stay and speak with the men, her mind eager for any conversation that did not have to do with breeding stock or planting fields, but did not yet feel comfortable enough with them to linger without Arianna there as well. Although she was accustomed to dealing with men, they were men-at-arms, farmers, and other villagers. The men who had come with Arianna were knights and men of the world. In some ways she was intimidated by them, by their greater knowledge of the world outside the boundaries of Banuilt.
Alone in her bedchamber, she dressed for bed and banked the fire. A small part of her missed Boyd, but only because she now felt as if all the weight of Banuilt rested on her shoulders, and she could have done with his sharing at least the small part of it that he had when he was alive. The fact that she did not miss him in any other way struck her as very sad. It should not be that way, and yet she knew he would not have missed her all that much if she had been the one taken by the fever. He would have found another wife with a good dower so that he could have continued to make Banuilt—once little more than a peel tower and grazing land—into a grand fortress.
Triona wondered what it would be like to love a man as she knew her cousin loved her husband. By the way Arianna and the others talked, that love was returned, and the man would soon come hunting for his wife. They had implied that, even if Sir Brian MacFingal had thought to allow his errant wife to stew in her own anger for a while, his clan would push him to go to her, for they would not wish the man to risk losing her. She envied her cousin that, and hoped the woman knew how very fortunate she was.
It did puzzle her that Arianna was so close to her cousins, because when they were younger, she had gotten the feeling that Arianna’s parents, though loving, had not often mixed with the very large Murray clan. More than Triona’s had, yet there had been expectations placed on Arianna that, from all her grandmother had told her, would never have been placed upon other women in the Murray clan. Arianna had never complained, however, and Triona had known even back then that her cousin was far luckier in her family than she was.
She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. There was a lot she did not have, but she knew she had more than most. It was not good to envy what others had, especially if there was little chance that one would ever gain that for oneself. That way led to a poisoning in the heart and mind. Triona knew she would never have what Arianna did, and would have to accept that sad truth. Her own family had sent her off to her aging husband and had never once checked to see if she was happy to go or even happy to stay. They had seen her marriage as an advantageous one, a connection that would aid her brother in gaining some much needed influence with people who could get him into the king’s court and rid them of a lass who would only have been a burden to them as she aged.
“I have friends,” she whispered. “I have Ella and I have Banuilt. I have a great deal to be grateful for. I have food enough to keep from starving, a roof o’er my head, and clothes on my back. I have a nice soft bed to curl up in when I need to rest, and women to help me with all the work that needs to be done about here. I am a verra fortunate lass and must cease craving what I cannae have.”
Triona nodded. It always helped to remind herself of all she did have, things many another woman would kill to have. Life was not perfect, and she doubted she would ever completely cease to wish for something just a little different, but most of the time she was content with her life. In many ways she had the large family she had always craved. She had all the people of Banuilt.
When thoughts of a man with dark green eyes crept into her mind, she frowned. She did not need a man, she thought crossly, but that did little to push away the image in her mind or the way her heartbeat quickened as she thought of Sir Brett Murray. He was too handsome for his own good, but that did not stop her from appreciating his fine looks, as far too many women undoubtedly did. Neither did reminding herself that she was no beauty, and she suspected he was a man who was all too well acquainted with many beautiful women.
Cursing softly, she sat up and then moved to get a drink of cider. She was too old to be infatuated with some man just because he looked so good. Appreciating his beauty, his strength and manly grace, was acceptable, but letting him invade her thoughts to the point that he disturbed her rest was not. Her marriage had taught her that one did not get much benefit from having a husband. Hers certainly had not made her feel much less alone than she had growing up in her family’s unloving home.
Once back in bed, she closed her eyes, determined to clear her mind and get the rest she needed. She growled when she had the sudden thought that Si
r Brett would probably give a woman many children, all strong and handsome. He might also cause her to enjoy the making of those children. Triona flopped onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night, she decided.
Even as she finally managed to relax enough to reach for sleep, the alarum was rung and Angus burst into her room screaming, “Fire in the blue field!”
Chapter Three
Brett studied the charred ground in the far corner of the field. It had not taken them long to put out the fire, despite the plentiful fuel for it to feed upon. What truly roused his curiosity was why, if the fire was meant to destroy the whole field of crops, had it been set in a place so easily seen from the walls of Banuilt? Not only that, but it had been set in a place easily reached, where there was little risk of many feet and a cart crossing the field and damaging the crop. It was possible that the men who had set the fire were simply witless fools, but he had some strong doubts about that. It was hard to believe any men could be quite that witless.
He looked at Triona, who stood by his side. It troubled him that he had such a fierce urge to brush the loose strands of hair from her face, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he fought it. Despite what his family thought, he had turned away from women. If they ever uncovered that truth, a lot of questions would be asked, and he had no wish to explain why he allowed everyone to think him such a dissolute man when he was far from it. He did, however, need to remind himself of those reasons when he was near Triona.
“Why is the field called the blue field?” he asked, praying that talking to her about the trouble they had just dealt with would distract him from his growing attraction to her.
“Naming the field makes it quicker for everyone to ken which one we must all rush to,” replied Triona.
“And ye all have to rush off to tend to a field often, do ye?”
Triona sighed. She was so tired. The first troubles had begun only a fortnight after the well-trained men who had survived the fever had sailed away to France to seek their fortunes fighting for whoever offered them the most coin. Over the following nearly two years there had been few times when it had been peaceful at Banuilt. The people here spent far too much of their time repairing damage and not nearly enough building up Banuilt. She feared they now took more steps back than they did forward, and their lives would never return to the more profitable and plentiful ones they had all enjoyed before the fever had so devastated their people.
Highland Master Page 3