Page 32 of The Falcon Laird
“She did this well. No garrison will be here for a long time. But there is a good deal of work to be done here, Uncle. You and I have quite a task ahead.”
“Hmph. I would wager that Dominy is strong enough to help too. We will be glad to have her here.”
Chuckling, Gavin glanced up as the dawn sky pearled through a gap in the tallest tower. Through the early, cold mist, the first light of the sun burnished the stone and spread over the enclosing wall. A flock of doves flew up from somewhere, caught a current of wind and drifted away like pale smoke.
Washed in a moment of golden light, Kilglassie looked whole and strong, as it must have looked once, and could again.
“I’ll not liftanything,” Dominy said firmly, folding her arms across her ample bosom.
“Ach, you’re as strong as we are, lass,” John said. “You’ve a fine great arm on you, and a broad back like a man.”
Dominy gasped. Christian, watching from her pallet on the floor, blinked wide, and glanced at Gavin, who was seated on the floor near her. He said nothing, though his lips twitched.
“John means to compliment you, dear,” Christian said.
“Hmph.” Dominy tossed her head back. “For that flattery, he’ll get as much help from me as milk from a sparrow.” Beside her, William listened, his eyes wide.
“He only teases you because you can get so angry with him,” Gavin said. “He means to say we need whatever help you can give us as we begin making repairs.”
“I am strong as a bull,” William offered. “I can do the lifting.” John patted him on the shoulder.
Dominy shrugged. “I will help where I can. My father was a mason and I learned something from watching him as a child. Do either of ye know aught of such skills?”
“Masonry?” John frowned. “I ken well how to undermine a castle wall with fat and fire.”
William’s face brightened and he leaned forward eagerly, but his mother made a sound of disgust and shook her head. “What help is firing the walls in a ruined castle, man?”
John scowled and turned to Gavin. “Wha’ are our most immediate needs?”
“A bath and food,” Christian said.
“We will do what we can for now,” Gavin said. “I presume the tubs are all burned too. We will wash best we can, and we will have to sleep together in this chamber until we can repair some of the rooms.”
“The oats the abbot sent with us will not last long,” John said. “Food is a priority. We need to hunt.”
“Aye. And beyond that, the immediate need is to fix the gate and find a way to build some flooring in this tower to make other rooms useful,” Gavin said. “And I must ride to Loch Doon Castle to meet with Hastings to request tools and materials, and laborers to help, if any are available.”
“Oliver Hastings?” Christian asked.
Gavin looked at her. “You know him?”
“He captured me in the Highlands,” she said, feeling unease rise in her. She shivered and glanced at Gavin. His gaze was blue-black in the low light. She might have interpreted that silent, steady look as concern. But now she knew he was an English knight, and that changed all. She looked away.
“With winter coming, the weather may delay our repairs,” John said.
“Winter in Galloway tends to the mild,” Christian said. “We get cold winds and rain here, but scant ice and snow.”
“If we can work through the winter, we may accomplish this faster than I thought,” Gavin said.
“This wee chamber is mild and balmy now,” John said, gesturing around the small storage chamber where they gathered. Its low, vaulted stone ceiling and thick walls offeredsome protection, and earlier Gavin and John had found some iron kettles and filled them with water from the loch. They were set to boil over a makeshift hearth built from a circle of stones. Gavin had sealed the entrance with curtains taken from the litter. Smoke drifted up and away through a gap in the roof, but inside the air was warm and damp, which helped ease her breathing.
“Feels like summer in here,” John said, standing. “I need some good brisk air. Come, Will. I saw pigeons and doves roosting in another tower, and I’ve a taste for a pie. We will do a little hunting, eh?” Will jumped up to go with him, and John turned to Dominy. “Come, I will show you the castle. We can find some heavy stones for you to hoist.” His brown eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I’ll hoist a stone at his head soon enough,” Dominy muttered, and followed John and her son.
Christian saw Gavin smiling at that. He stayed by the fire, twirling a stick in long, nimble fingers. He glanced at her. “You seem stronger today.”
“I had some sleep. And I ate more than my share of the oatcakes Dominy made,” she admitted. “The oats we brought from the abbey will not last for long.”
