Page 34 of The Fierce Highlander

That loosened tongues fast.

“Lord Slayer will see the demon cast from her,” the only male there said.

“I heard he lets no one near her,” a lass said.

“Wendell told me that Lord Slayer’s warriors keep their distance from her,” a red-haired lass said.

“Your name, lass?” Leora asked, fighting to keep calm when she wanted to rush questions at the lass. That would do her no good nor would telling them that Sky was her sister, at least for now. She needed them to speak freely and honestly about Sky, even if it did hurt her to hear it.

“Adele, mistress,” she said with a bob of her head.

“And who is Wendell, Adele?” Leora asked, sounding nothing more than curious.

“A young man from Clan Ravinsher who fancies me and visits when he can,” Adele said, a blush staining her cheeks.

“How nice for you,” Leora said, already planning ways to meet him the next time he visited. “I appreciate all you shared with me.” And with a nod, took her leave.

Leora returned to the Great Hall with much on her mind, her sister topping the list. She felt hopeful with what she might be able to learn from Wendell but worried how safe her sister truly was. She would love to get a message to her, and she was already conjuring plans in ways she might succeed with that. Then there was her husband, who realized before she did that the most important task at hand was to see the clan regain their strength, only then could it flourish, much like the pup who continued to sleep in the make-shift bed, and then, of course, repairs to the village had to be done before winter. It would be a busy time and she worried there would be no time for Sky’s plight or to solve her own dilemma. But she was not about to fail her sister or let her dilemma go unsolved.

She chose to do what she normally did when her thoughts grew heavy. She would go for a walk, explore, and become familiar with the village and its people. Her husband had made no mention of her remaining in the keep, so he should not object, but she would remain cautious of her surroundings since she did not know who she could truly trust here.

Gray clouds hung low, promising rain, and there was a cool, spring breeze though summer was only days away. Leora had spotted the decay when she and Noble had entered the village, but it was more pronounced seeing it up close. Several thatched rooftops sagged while others suffered gaping holes. The stone walls of the structures that stored food were empty and crumbling.

Still, the villagers went about their daily tasks, their faces thin from lack of food yet their determination to survive strong. Many wore expressions of weariness with a touch of hope and skepticism for their new chieftain, and Leora could not blame them. Noble would have to prove his worthiness for the clan to accept and respect him.

The scent of woodsmoke was heavy in the air as she continued her walk, but no scent of freshly baked bread joined it as was the way in most clan villages. The people watched anxiously as Noble’s warriors constructed spits for the fires that would wait for the meat to be placed on them, cooked, and distributed as Noble had promised, and she had no doubt he would see it done.

She continued walking, her nose catching the tang of iron from the blacksmith’s forge, a scent that she had not noticed when first entering the village and she saw why. Noble’s warriors had gotten the forge working and were busy working it, the old blacksmith sitting and watching them with appreciation.

Leora jumped when a screech ripped through the air, then smiled when several children suddenly rounded a cottage laughing, a defiant contrast to their melancholy surroundings. Women sat together, busy mending garments, while others tended to small gardens.

Noble had given the clan something precious with the gift of food, something they hadn’t had in a long time… a spark of hope, a belief that Clan Skirling would thrive once again.

Heads suddenly began to turn, and women stood, their mending falling off their laps onto the ground. Children halted their play and stared at the warriors entering the village with skinned game and an abundance of fish hanging from branches stripped of their bark.

Leora could see the people were eager to run to the warriors and grab what they could to cook and feed their families, but Noble led his warriors and no one dared to approach him. The warriors got the game on the spits quickly while the fish were cleaned and made ready to cook.

“Listen well!” Noble called out and the people began to gather around him.

“You will go hungry no more. I will see that there is plenty of food for the clan. The fields will be sowed with enough seed to produce a good harvest, repairs will be made to cottages and storage sheds, you will forage in the forest for plants to add to your gardens, and I will see that the nuns from Whitehall Abbey visit here soon to tend your ills. We will grow together as a clan and forge a bond that no one can break.”

One brave man called out, “How do we know you will keep your word?”

Leora could not hold her tongue. “My husband is an honorable man; his word is his honor. He will do as he says of that you have no worries. And he proves it to you with this food that will fill your starving bellies today. But you owe him as well, to join with him and do all you can to make Clan Skirling strong once again.”

That she so hastily came to his defense surprised Noble and that she also spoke with a firmness that held everyone’s attention. Only a moment after she finished, the crowd erupted in a loud cheer and men and women stepped forward to help Noble’s warriors, all eager to feast.

Seeing that her husband approached her, Leora walked toward him. “You gave me no order to remain in the keep.”

His hand went to rest on her lower back, guiding her through the people busy helping his warriors with the food. His touch was light, but somehow it felt intimate, and it sent an odd tingle through her.

“I do not wish to confine you, wife, but caution is needed,” he said as they moved away from the crowd.

“I agree, and I will not take any unnecessary chances. With so many of your warriors around I believe the village is safe enough for me.” The slightest scrunch of his brow told Leora that he didn’t agree.

“I would like to believe that, but the people here are unfamiliar to us, and with Haig having worked his way in here, what is to say someone else hasn’t as well? My warriors know to keep watch over you and I believe you are wise rather than foolish,” —his scrunched brow deepened, though a bit of a smile surfaced— “at least most of the time… not to take any chances you shouldn’t.”

“Are you saying you trust me, husband?” she asked with a wickedly teasing smile.

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