Page 33 of Cottage in the Mist
A commotion off to the right pulled Bram’s attention away from the drawing. Iain’s captain, Fergus, strode into the greathall, two more of Iain’s men beside him, a fourth man hunkered between them, anger turning his face a deep red.
“What’s this then?” Iain asked, his hand moving to his dagger.
“We found him outside on the path coming up to the gate,” Fergus called as they crossed the chamber. “Figured him for one of the bastards that snuck into the canyon last night.”
“I’m no’ Comyn,” the man in the middle spat, lifting his head. And Bram raised a hand, recognizing the voice—the age-weathered face.
“’Tis my father’s man,” he assured them, then rushed across the floor to meet Frazier, the two embracing as the others watched. “I feared you were dead.”
“Nay, lad, ’tis no’ easy to take down a Macbean,” Fergus said, his smile fading as a shadow crossed his face. “Although there were no’ many survivors.”
“Robby?” Bram asked as the two of them crossed back over to Iain and Ranald by the dais, Iain’s man Fergus following behind them.
The old warrior shook his head. “Dead. After you were safe, we turned back to fight the bastards.”
“Do you ken who it was?” Iain asked, as Ranald offered the old man a tankard of ale.
“Aye.” He nodded. “’Twas Comyns. I recognized their colors. Besides, there’s no mistaking the look of them. Those eyes and all that hair.”
Bram and Ranald exchanged a look.
“You were Seamus Macgillivray’s captain?” Iain asked.
“Aye, that I was. For more than thirty years.” The older man shrugged. “But time has a way of making a man weak.” He shrugged. “Seamus and I faced that together. His goal was to step down. Leave the holding to his son.” Frazier’s eyes cut to Bram, his expression grim.
“Why did I hear nothing of this?” Bram asked, grief rocking through him with the power of a lance. “He said naught to me.”
“Ye were no’ ready, lad,” the old man answered.
Bram fisted his hands, but Frazier waved him quiet. “I dinna mean you were weak. Only that you had to want it. Being laird is a right, but it is also a privilege. One earned. And yer father needed to know that you were ready to handle it.”
“I was born ready.” Bram pushed away from the table. “But my father could never see that.”
“In his own way, he loved you, lad,” Frazier said. “He just had no way o’ showing it. And you were gone more often than not.”
“Because he sent me away.”
“Isn’t that always the way of it with men?” Katherine queried as she swept into the room, a fresh pitcher of ale in her hands. “Pushing each other about, talking around everything but what’s important. It’s a wonder any of you ever get anything done at all.” She stopped, eyeing the newcomer.
“Bram’s father’s man, Frazier,” Iain said by way of introduction. “He’s managed to escape the carnage at Dunbrae.”
Bram watched as Katherine studied the man and then her husband. “And you believe him?”
Frazier ruffled, clearly unaccustomed to being found wanting by a woman. But then if Frazier knew half of the truths of this household he would no doubt be running for sanctuary. The thought brought a smile.
“What are ye laughing about, boy?” Frazier snapped.
“Nothing.” He lifted a hand, swallowing his mirth. “Nothing at all.” He turned his attention back to Katherine. “I swear on my life, this man is a friend. He helped me to escape Alec and his men—at great risk to himself, I might add.” And to others. Bram shuddered, his thoughts turning to Robby.
“Well, then,” she said, setting the pitcher on the table. “Any friend of Bram’s is more than welcome here. I’ll see that Florasends some food. I’d imagine it’s been a while since you’ve eaten.” She bent to kiss her husband, her golden hair swinging forward like a curtain. And then with a smile, she was gone.
“Hell of a woman, that,” Frazier mumbled.
“Aye, that she is.” Iain’s smile was warm, but there was still a sliver of doubt present. Bram recognized the caution for what it was. Iain hadn’t survived all that he had endured without keeping a clear head. And despite the fact that Bram trusted Frazier, he understood the need to tread carefully. “So tell us, how did you manage to get away?”
“And more importantly,” Ranald added, his gaze narrowed as he studied the older man, “how did you manage to track Bram here?”
Flora bustled into the room with a platter of meat and cheese, her ruddy face filled with curiosity as she put the trencher in front of Frazier. “Lady Katherine said that you were hungry.”
