Highland Magic (42 page)

Callum shrugged. “I do not. ‘Twas just a
passing curiosity, is all.”

A half-hour later, Callum walked up to Kerk
and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man turned his head,
Callum said, “‘Twas quite a jest you played on me the other day, I
trow.”

Kerk nodded and gave him his usual smirk.
“Aye, I thought so.”

“I have to say—and ken me well, your wife is
quite lovely—I’m a bit confused as to why you would choose the lass
over Branwenn, when ‘tis clear you held her favor.”

Kerk turned and faced him full-on. Crossing
his arms over his chest he said, “‘Tis clear is it?” Kerk snorted
and shook his head. “I see that you have not the wit to work this
out on your own, so I must give you a bit of assistance.” He took a
step closer and bent at the waist slightly. “The Lady Branwenn and
I never spoke more than a handful of times, and most of those
conversations dealt with things so dull that I cannot even recall
them now. And—list me well, for this is the only time I’ll say
it—the lass, to my eye, is not even half as lovely as you believe
her to be. In fact, ‘tis clear to me that you’ve gone a bit daft
and lost most of your sight as well.” He straightened and then
continued in a gentler voice, “Do not mishear me, for the lass is
pleasant enough to look upon, and is kindhearted as well, with a
keen wit that some would like, but she’s not near so toothsome as
you crow on about.”

Callum fought the twin demons of offended
pride and anger. His fists clenched at his sides, he trembled with
the need to take the man down. “Meet me on the field at dawn.” He
turned and strode out of the hall, up the stairs, and into his
bedchamber. His lungs blowing hard now, he slammed the door behind
him and stood stock-still in the middle of the room, his mind
spinning as he struggled to keep the doubts regarding his beliefs
about Branwenn at bay.

After a moment, his resolve once more in
place, he took his sword from its place on the wall and began the
soothing process of cleaning it.

* * *

Dawn came early the next morn, or at least it
seemed so to Callum. Tho’ he’d been on the field for at least a
half-hour prior to the time he would meet his opponent, he already
regretted the challenge he’d given the guard the night before.

Yet, again, he’d reacted
like a bairn. With a low growl, he lifted his sword and swung it in
a harsh, downward arc.
Swoosh!
Swoosh!
Twice more he
swung the weapon, twice more he felt the futility of the endeavor
in the
ping!
of
humiliation he got with each forceful stroke.

After another hour had passed with no sight
of Kerk, Callum at last allowed himself to fully embrace the
growing realization that he’d made a total arse of himself last
eve—and these past days as well. ‘Twas a realization long in
coming, but with an impact that reverberated through him as if the
fine-honed edge of a battle axe had hewn through his body armor,
directly into his soul, laying bare and open the man inside.

As he walked back to the keep, he made a
plan. His yearly obligation to his uncle had been fulfilled. So, on
the morrow, he would begin his long-delayed building of the manor
house on the property he’d been ceded.

But first, he must find Kerk and apologize.
Hell, ‘twas time and past for him to apologize to his family as
well.

* * *

The next day, Callum took a ride to his land
with two craftsmen in tow. He needed a project. He needed to focus.
He needed something that would keep the demons at bay; that would
keep his thoughts off of Branwenn; that would bury the ache in his
heart; that would soothe his bruised pride. And, most of all, that
would stop reminding him of his own humiliating behavior of
late.

The short, hastily
rehearsed speech he’d given Kerk—once he’d found him—had been one
of the lowest moments in his life, but one of the best as well.
For, even tho’ Kerk had given him his usual smirk as Callum had
spoken to him, he’d also said something afterward that had
resounded in Callum’s mind for hours afterward. He’d said, “‘Tis
good to at last see a man before me.” Aye, Callum thought, ‘twas
time and past for
everyone
, including himself, to see
such.

And the talk he’d had with his family later
had been painful. But at least he’d made some amends and,
thankfully, he’d regained at least a bit of his family’s regard in
the process. But not all. Nay, not by a mile. And ‘twas clear that
he wouldn’t until he’d made some amends to Branwenn as well for the
vicious way he’d treated her before her departure.

But he couldn’t do that—not yet at least.
For, tho’ ‘twas quite clear to him now that he’d been wrong for
believing her capable of behaving like Lara, there was still the
matter of her bargain with Gaiallard. A thing he still could not
forgive.

And so, ‘twas best that he move forward with
his plan to build his manor. And then, when ‘twas completed, he and
his daughter would move into it and start life afresh. David would
remain at the MacGregor holding to finish out his page training,
but Callum would see him often during that time, as the manor was
not far from there.

“Just there,” Callum said, pointing to a
snow-patched rise several yards away. “This, I thought, would be
the best place to position the manor.” He and the two craftsmen—the
master stonemason and the ingeniator—reined in their horses and
silently studied the landscape before them.

“Aye, ‘tis large enough for what you have in
mind, I believe” the ingeniator said. “But a measurement will tell
us for sure.”

“Barring a snow storm, we can begin on the
morrow, if that pleases you,” the master mason said.

Callum gave the man a quick nod. “Aye,
good.”

“What of the stone?”

A sharp feeling of desolation pierced
Callum’s heart. He’d ordered the stone the day after he and
Branwenn had first made love, so set had he been upon wedding her
and giving her a home. “It’s set to arrive two days hence,” he
said, crossing his arms over his chest. Unfortunately, it didn’t
relieve the weight of the sadness there.

He spent the remainder of
the day in further consultation with the two craftsmen. The men
assured him that the main living quarters and kitchens could be
finished, barring any long bouts of rain or snow, by
Bealltainn
. The garden
walls, gates, and outer buildings would be completed much
later.

Within a fortnight, the foundation and
several layers of stone for the outer walls of the manor were in
place. In the meantime, Callum had found a master stone carver to
carve the designs for the corbels, doors and window dressings.

He stood a bit away watching the disparate
lot of well over 400 apprentices and journeymen under the guidance
of the master mason working diligently to get the third tier of the
outer wall placed. He’d approved the hire of as many men as the
Ingeniator needed in order to assure a hasty, but well built,
completion. And thus far, the work was going well. Mayhap, if the
warmer winds continued to blow and melt the frost each day as it
had these past days, he and his daughter could move in earlier than
had been expected.

And that would be a welcome thing, indeed.
For, the longer he remained at the MacGregor holding, the harder it
became for him to hide his heartache from his family.

The stone carver walked up to him and held
out a sheet of vellum with a lovely scrolling script dancing across
its front. “Is this what you had in mind for the stone above the
entry?”

Callum studied the document
for a moment.
Tryamour Manor
the lettering said. The ‘T’ had a sea faery with
a filet of seashells crowning her hair curled into its curving
base, the ‘M’ had two more of the fey creatures settled under its
arches. “Aye. ‘Tis a good job you’ve done.” He handed the sheet of
vellum back to the craftsman. “When will you have it
completed?”

The man rubbed his bristled chin with his
fingers and thumb. “Well...it shouldn’t take longer than a
sennight, I’m thinking, after the slab of rose marble arrives on
the morrow.”

Callum nodded. “Fine then. My thanks.”

The man dipped his head in farewell and
walked back to his makeshift workshop near the stacks of stone.

* * *

Alyson walked over the rise, David and his
hound Jasper following just behind her, and quickly nocked her
arrow and let it fly.

“That’s twelve!” David said, grinning. He
hurried over to the downed rabbit, with Jasper grinning and
slobbering as he bounded alongside him, and picked it up by its
hind legs. After taking the arrow from its neck, he tied it with
the other ones he carried. “’Tis all Cook asked us for then. We
should return to the keep now, else he’ll surely be vexed.”

“Yes, let us make haste.”

They hadn’t taken more than five steps in the
direction of the keep before Alyson heard their names being called.
She darted a look at David, but ‘twas clear the lad had heard
naught.

Alyson, her brow furrowed in worry, looked in
the direction of the voice, but stepped up her pace a bit as well.
“Hurry David!” she said, taking the boy’s hand in her own.

“Alyson! David!” Callum called again a bit
louder, waving this time to try to get their attention. He wasn’t
on horseback, as he’d felt the need for a bit of exercise after
standing for so long watching and supervising the building of his
manor, so he led his steed by the reins instead.

When Alyson saw that it was Callum, she
relaxed and halted, tugging David to a halt as well. “‘Tis your
foster father, David,” she said. She should have known ‘twould not
have been anyone who’d do harm to them—that man was cold in the
ground now, God be praised.

David grinned and waved. “Ho!” Lifting the
string of rabbits, he said, “See you what a good hunter is the lady
Alyson? Cook’s sure to make a fine stew this eve!”

Callum glanced at the largesse and chuckled.
As he now stood only a pace or two from the pair, he leaned forward
and took the rabbits from David and held them up for his own
inspection. “Aye, ‘tis a good number.” He turned and tied them to
his saddle. Swiveling back around, and with a courtly bow, he said,
“Lady Alyson, may I offer you a ride on my steed?”

Alyson giggled behind her hand, for she
looked more like a lad in her feathered cap, tunic and hose than
the lady he so gallantly called her. “Yes, sir knight, ‘twould be a
great pleasure, I’m sure,” she answered with as courtly an air as
she was able as she offered him her hand.

Callum grinned and took the proffered
appendage before quickly settling her on his bay.

Jasper bounded across the glen, kicking up
earth and snow as he traveled. “Hey!” David yelled and took off
after the hound.

“Have you heard from your husband?” Callum
asked after a moment.

“Nay,” Alyson said on a sigh. She worried her
bottom lip with her teeth. “I worry that something terrible has
happened to him—Do you think he could have come to some harm?”

“Nay. Fear not, for ‘tis more likely that his
meeting with his cousin took longer than he expected. No doubt,
he’s on his way back even now.”

Alyson was quiet for
another moment, then, as if she could barely get the words past her
lips, she said, “You...you know that ‘twas
I
that sent the arrow into my
brother, do you not?”

Callum shot her a quick glance to gauge her
expression. “Aye,” he answered a bit hesitantly, “but your secret
is safe with us, Alyson. And, besides, ‘twas my dirk that killed
him, not your arrow. ‘Twas not murder, ‘twas an honorable death on
the tournament field. With witnesses.”

“Yes, but, ‘tis truth,
I
would
have
murdered him, if you’d not gotten him first.”

Callum sighed and patted her knee. “But you
didn’t. And that is all you must know, must think on.
Understand?”

Alyson started chewing on her lip again.
After a moment, she nodded. “All right.” And then: “Will you tell
him? My husband?”

Callum gave her a gentle smile, but there was
pity in it as well. “My lady. Do you not think that your husband
will ken exactly who let fly that arrow the minute he learns the
details of the joust?”

Alyson bowed her head and fiddled with one of
the metal rings in the chained girdle around her middle—a small
vanity, even if she was wearing lad’s attire. She shrugged.

“Reys will feel exactly as we do, I’m sure,
after his heart returns to a normal meter. He’ll only be glad that
no one who might want to exact punishment knows of the incident.
And no one ever will. My stepfather made sure of that.”

Callum searched the glen and relaxed when he
saw David and Jasper further ahead, but still within earshot.

“Your lady and my brother....”

Callum’s head whipped around. “Aye?”

Alyson sat forward. Leaning
down a bit, she said earnestly, “They did not...
she
would not have.”

Callum pressed his lips together into a grim
line.

“She loves you too well. And the fr—”

“Aye, and ‘tis for that reason that I believe
she did.”

“But—the ff—”

“Nay, I won’t speak more. I’ve said too much
as is. Leave the subject be, my lady, for, ‘tis truth, you know
naught of it.”

Alyson shook her head, but
remained silent. What a pity. ‘Twas so clear that he grieved for
his lady love as if she’d died instead of merely traveled to her
brother’s keep. If only he would forgive her, or believe her. With
a sigh, she resettled on her mount. Mayhap, when Reys
returned,
he
could make Callum listen.