Page 29 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
Roderick kept his voice and his movements steady. Despite his urgency, he was cautious to act with confidence and authority. He didn’t want the Council making any decisions in haste.
“Gentlemen,” he said, making his way toward the head of the table. “I apologize fer us havin’ tae convene again, but we face a challengin’ situation.”
There was a moment’s silence as he sat down.
“There’s been a large fire in the southern fields,” he continued. “The damage tae Fraser wheat crops is severe, and while we’re workin’ tae salvage what we can, I fear it may be too late.”
Gasps rippled throughout the room, although he was sure that many of them already knew, given the way in which news spread around the castle.
“So, everythin’ is gone?” A Councilman asked.
“We’re nae sure, but we should presume as much,” Roderick said shortly. “Now we can dae a number of things. I believe we should first assess the damage properly before actin’ in too much haste. But it’ll make sense tae at least try and increase our harvests as much as we can in other areas—particularly wi’ the barley fields tae the north.”
“But we’re already short,” a Councilman said, “wi’ the rate we’re goin’ at now…”
Roderick held up a hand to calm the murmurs that began to rise. “Aye, I ken we’re already stretched thin.”
A sly smile swept across Lennox’s face as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He raised his hand in a slow, deliberate gesture to mirror Roderick’s own. “It’s a little less than convenient, is it nae, laird, that yer betrothed tae a lass o’ a clan who can offer us land but nae crops?”
Roderick frowned, fighting to keep his composure. The manner in which Lennox spoke to him reminded Roderick of when he was a child. He could still recall with perfect clarity, the way his father’s friends used to tease him. At the time it had been in jest, a lighthearted reminder that just because he was the son of the laird, it did not mean he yet understood the intricacies of rule.
But now, as the official Laird of Castle Fraser, Roderick was insulted that Lennox still insisted on treating him as though he were just a young bairn.
Roderick had been thrust into the position, and he doubted at times whether he knew best, although he was sure any good laird should. But there was no legitimate reason that Lennox should not trust that he knew what to do with his people, and how to serve his clan.
It was insulting, and with all that had gone on that day, Roderick was even less inclined to entertain Lennox than usual.
“I didnae call this Council tae discuss me betrothal again Lennox, although I ken well that ye have yer opinion,” he said sternly. “I called ye all here tae discuss solutions, an’ I’d like tae hear what ye have tae say.”
Cameron cleared his throat. “I agree, me laird, that it makes sense tae try our best tae increase production, but I share our Council's concerns over stretchin’ ourselves, perhaps a little too thin.”
“Aye,” Roderick said nodding to Cameron, grateful as usual for his input. “I agree, we need tae consider other options tae bolster our stores. There are neighborin’ clans we’ve worked with in the past, an’ perhaps we could arrange trades tae cover what we’ve lost.”
“A sound idea, me laird,” a stout Councilman said a few seats down from Roderick. “But it depends on which clans ye’ve in mind. Some are easier tae deal with than others.”
“Aye,” Roderick agreed. “Clan MacGregor comes tae mind. They’ve fertile lands tae the west, and they’ve had bountiful harvests the past few seasons. Barley, oats, and even root vegetables, if I recall correctly.”
Cameron nodded. “They dae have plenty. But MacGregor’s nae one tae give freely. Ye’ll need tae offer somethin’ substantial in return.”
“True,” Roderick said. “We’ve wool and timber in abundance. Both are valuable, especially durin’ this winter. I believe we could trade with that.”
“How about the MacDonalds?” An old Councilman asked. “It may be a little tricky with them, but we’ve helped them plenty in the past, and I’m certain they have nae forgotten.”
Roderick frowned. “Aye, the MacDonalds might be hesitant tae trade openly, but if we approach them with respect an’ a fair offer, we might find them amenable. Timber could be o’ interest tae them, as their northern forests were hit hard by storms last spring.”
“An’ what if these clans refuse?” Lennox challenged. “What will we dae then?”
Roderick thought carefully, surveying the room until his eyes landed upon Malcolm. He did not expect to see him there again, given that he seldom attended Council meetings anymore. His being present at two meetings in such a short time was a curious development.
Seeing Malcolm also reminded him of the coldness with which he had approached Moira. For reasons he could not explain, it irritated him, and he wanted to avoid engaging with him too much. Still, his presence at the meeting was an opportunity Roderick could not ignore.
“Malcolm,” he said. “It is good tae see ye here again today.”
“An’ ye, me laird,” Malcolm replied, leaning back in his chair, his expression guarded.
“How are yer fields faring this year?” Roderick asked, fixing him with a deliberate look. “If ye have anythin’ further tae spare, perhaps we could come tae some sort o’ agreement.”
Roderick assumed that sorting something with Malcolm would be easier than engaging different clans in negotiations, which could potentially worsen their relations.
