Highland Seer (12 page)

“Goodness, Cook. What’s amiss?”

Cook’s head jerked up and her face colored. “Ach, good morning to ye, lass. I was runnin’ through me mind what stores we still have available to us. All these big braw men are making quite a dent in our larder. If ye have some time, we would be well advised to take account.”

How she’d keep her mind on beans and barley she had no idea. The memory of Donal’s face as he admitted she could break through his tightly held control kept returning to the forefront of her mind. She could barely keep herself from spinning around and laughing. Wouldn’t Cook wonder at that? Ellie shook her head. She must keep her mind on the clan’s well-being. “Of course I’ll help ye.”

Cook covered the dough with a damp rag, wiped her hands with another, and muttered, “Come along.”

“Oh dear.” Ellie’s optimistic mood fled. Suddenly, Donal was the last thing on her mind. Or next to last. Breaking her fast, the errand that had brought her here, fell to last. Cook rarely fretted over the larder. She could feed an army with scraps if she had to. “How bad is it? What do ye think we need?”

“Fresh meat most of all. Fish, too.” Cook led her down the back stairs into the kitchen’s cellar. Well below ground, it stayed cool year-round. But the large blocks of ice they kept in the deeper part lowered the temperature there even more. Jugs of milk and cream, eggs, butter, and cheese were stored among them, as was meat, fish and fowl, fresh killed and salted. “That shouldna be a surprise. Ye ken we’ve plenty of flour, oats, and root vegetables stored away down here.”

Ellie reached out to stroke one of the cats that kept rodents away from the food stores. The sleepy tabby mouser curled up atop a stack of bags that held oats. He rolled over to expose his belly for a rub. Ellie complied, looking around the cellar while she took care of the cat. Cook wisely fed the cats, which meant they often visited the kitchen and the cellar, knowing their next meal would soon appear. They might find something Cook provided, or a rodent that made its way this far into the keep. She kept the meat and fish stores securely wrapped and covered in straw to keep the cats from getting at them. Those bundles were nearly gone.

“There’s enough for a day or two,” Cook continued, moving the straw aside to show Ellie, who left off petting the cat, intending to join her. But the mouser had other ideas, batting at her fingers as if to say,
Who told ye to stop?

“Ye’ve spoiled this cat, Cook. He sleeps all day. Now he wants me to keep petting him.”

Cook laughed. “Ah, that one. He’s a charmer, he is. And more deadly than he looks. Watch those claws.”

Ellie pulled her hand away after a final rub, reluctant to give up stroking the cat’s silky fur.

“But if someone doesna go hunting soon, either we’ll have to slaughter one of the coos or I’ll be feeding all of ye gruel for every meal. No one will like that.”

Ellie enjoyed a thought, just for a moment, of feeding gruel to Lachlan MacDuff at every meal. It might drive him from her keep all the sooner. But she would not do that to the Lathans, nor to her own people.

Ellie stepped away from the cat, who had resumed his nap, and tallied the bags of grains stacked against one wall. Aye, enough to make gruel to keep them going for most of the winter. On the other hand, it might be the last straw to convince Lachlan the MacKyries needed saving—no matter what his own plans were. She didn’t want that, but she would not slaughter one of their herd of Highland cattle, not yet. She wished to keep it intact, at least until later in the winter when fresh beef would be needed more than now. Cook had the right of it. “So I need to send the lads out to hunt, aye?”

“Why don’t ye give all those men something useful to do? I’ll wager they’re a might better at the hunt than our lads. Let ’em earn their keep.”

Of course! The solution to several problems, not the least of which was getting the MacDuffs out of the keep, if only for a few hours, so she wouldn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder, skulking from place to place to avoid Lachlan. Ellie went to Cook and kissed her cheek. “Ye’re a genius, ye are. That’ll keep them from getting into mischief, won’t it? That’s brilliant.”

Cook dimpled at her laird’s praise. “I do have an idea or two rattlin’ around in my head, lass.”

“Aye, I ken ye do, and I thank ye for this one. We could also send some of the lads to the burn to fish, but I’d rather keep them inside until the hunters return.”

Suddenly a fragment of a dream came back to Ellie. An arrow in flight, burying itself in a tree a hair’s breadth from a dark head. A man? Or a lad? The rest of the dream would not come back to her. What had happened next? She shook herself, unsure if it had been part of a Seeing or just a dream.

“That’s wise,” Cook told her. “I’d hate for one of them to be mistaken for a deer or a boar. In those thick woods, the hunters would never ken until it was too late.”

Ellie nodded in agreement. “I’ll go tell Micheil to organize the hunt. Won’t he enjoy giving orders to our visitors? I fear he’s been feeling outmatched since the Lathans arrived.”

“Aye, no doubt. Most of them are twice his size and half again his age. Go tell him then. Let him have his fun. The sooner they go, the sooner I’ll ken what we’re having for the evening meal.”

****

MacDuff scowled out the window cut into the side of the stables. The view of the bailey revealed nothing to him that he wanted to know. Such as the whereabouts of the MacKyrie. When he claimed the MacKyrie laird along with her clan and its wealth, he’d tear her towers down, stone by stone. They held too many places to hide, and Ellie must’ve used them all this morning. He’d yet to encounter her, even at the midday meal.

Aye, she’d succeeding in avoiding him. She had on previous visits, too, but her absence this time worried more than angered him. Was she with those Lathans? He hadn’t seen any of them, either. They’d best leave her be, if they knew what was good for them. If even one of them touched her, he’d have the man’s head, kill the lot of them, then find their keep and destroy it, too.

He studied the man across the aisle from him. All these MacKyries were young, except for a handful who were very old. Either way, they were useless. They couldn’t fight, they couldn’t farm. They’d be no good in his mines, either—most were too old and weak or too young and weak. Only a few were of a size and age to be useful in the tighter shafts.

Aye, they made a fine whisky, but the MacDuffs weren’t known for that. Well, they would be, once he took Ellie MacKyrie and made her clan his. It was the only thing keeping these MacKyries alive. If he had the secret of the whisky, he’d have killed them all and moved his men in here to take over long before now.

Aye, he’d waited long enough for Ellie to come around to him. He’d tried persuasion and persistence. They hadn’t worked. He still had passion and plenty of that. He’d mount her like one of these horses, and if she thought to buck him off, he’d take a crop to her and ride until she screamed his name. Aye, she’d be his to use as he used his other women. When he tired of her, she’d die tragically, as they had. Such a sad coincidence, that he’d outlived so many fragile wives.

Ah, but he could savor all that in the future. First he had to secure her for himself. This discontented sod before him would help him or pay the price.

“Ye ken the Lathans willna be here for long,” he told the man, careful to keep his tone reasonable, though his irritation with the man’s laird simmered just below the surface. “When they go, ye’ll all join with me or suffer the consequences. Yer clan will starve and die out within a year or two under yer lassie laird. If another clan doesna come in the middle of the night and slit all yer throats for ye.”

His companion blanched and swallowed.

“I can save ye all. My men will protect ye. Ye ken that joining with me is yer best hope.”

If the man’s nod was meant to be an answer, then he had it.

Aye, he’d cooperate. He thought he’d be doing his laird a favor, saving her people from their fate. And aligning himself with a strong leader who’d protect them, and him.

He’d soon see the folly of his ways. But in the meantime, he’d be the eyes and ears MacDuff wanted inside the MacKyrie keep. “Keep yer wits about ye, then. Make sure I’m the first to ken it when these Lathans leave. Go on with ye. And send in the stable lad. I want to ride.”

The man bobbled a bow and left in a hurry. That suited MacDuff, who wanted him busy skulking around the keep like the vermin he was. As long as he provided the required information, his head could remain on his shoulders a while longer.

****

Ellie’s sense of danger stayed with her after she gave Micheil the news that he was to organize the hunt. She decided the best thing to do would be to warn Jamie and Donal to keep alert for trouble, just in case. She found them in the bailey, readying their mounts. She waited until she saw the MacDuff and his men riding through the outer gate before she approached the Lathans. It interested her that the MacDuff seemed eager to get out of her keep ahead of the others. To lay a trap for those who followed him?

“A word with both of ye, if ye please,” she said, beckoning them close. As Jamie and Donal joined her, she took a deep breath. “I had a dream last night. It may have been a Seeing, or just a dream. I canna be sure. It only came back to me as Cook suggested sending all ye men out to hunt.”

“What dream?” Donal managed to look skeptical and unimpressed at the same time, glancing aside at Jamie with a quirk of his lips.

Ellie’s temper spiked. She was trying to warn them, yet he doubted her before she uttered a word.

“What do ye recall?” Jamie frowned at his companion, then turned back to her.

Jamie seemed simply to want to know, so Ellie plunged ahead. She’d deal with Donal’s doubts later. “I saw an arrow bury itself in a tree. I think it barely missed someone. I canna recall more than that. I dinna ken whether it was the first of many arrows, or the only one.”

“An accident?”

“Or an attack,” Donal added.

“Either way, I needed to warn ye to be careful. It may have been nothing. Merely a dream. But if not...”

“We’ll be careful,” Jamie assured her as Donal studied her. What did he hope to see? The rest of her dream? Whether she was telling the truth? Not for the first time, she wished she knew what was going on behind those icy green eyes.

“Please do. I dinna want any of ye hurt. Or worse, coming back face down over yer horse.”

Donal’s eyebrows lifted. “Surely, ye dinna think such a thing is possible?”

Ellie huffed out a heavy sigh. “I wish I could be sure. Truly, I do. But I canna.”

“Likely a dream,” he muttered and turned back to his mount.

Jamie grimaced, his gaze following Donal for a moment as he moved away, then returning to Ellie. “Dinna fash over him,” Jamie told her. “He had a bad experience in the past with a woman of unusual talent...who is now our laird’s wife. He’s a natural skeptic. He put Aileana through a lot of heartache before he finally accepted her and stopped advising Toran against her. Coming to believe that her talent is real was difficult for him.”

“I didna ken.”

“He’ll come around, eventually. Once he learns more about ye.”

“Is that the reason he’s reluctant to remain here?” If it was, Ellie realized she’d have even more of a battle on her hands than she’d expected. Not only did he doubt his suitability to become involved with her as laird, he distrusted highland talents. Yet he’d come to accept the Lathan laird’s wife’s. Perhaps he could be persuaded after all.

“Aye. One of many, I imagine.”

“Then I have my work cut out for me, in truth.”

Jamie gave her a conspiratorial wink and grinned. “I believe ye’re up to it, lass.”

Reassured, she returned his grin and looked over at Donal. He was on his mount, waiting for Jamie.

“I think ye’d best be going.”

Jamie followed her gaze with his. His grin widened. “Aye. Dinna fash, Ellie. We’ll keep our eyes open.”

She watched them ride out with the other Lathans and two of her lads as guides. Be safe. I need ye. All of ye.

Chapter 8

The wind on Donal’s face felt good, even if it had a chill bite to it. He glanced over at Jamie, riding beside him. Aye, he enjoyed it, too. Thin clouds hid the sun, but allowed enough light through to make the coppery glints in Jamie’s dark hair glow like a banked fire. Added to the grin on his face, Jamie looked as cheerful as Donal had seen him in days, despite the MacKyrie’s warning. Come to that, Donal’s mood had improved, too. This he understood. Not all the back and forth of Jamie’s negotiations with the MacKyrie laird, nor Donal’s attraction to her—nor what to do about it. If anything. Nay, a simple hunt was exactly what they all needed. When Micheil had come to them in the great hall to invite them, they’d jumped at the chance. The rest of the Lathans had wanted to go to, but Donal left Bram, Innis, and Alpin behind. The MacDuff joined the hunt, but had left two of his men in the keep. Donal had no choice but to do the same. He’d not leave the MacKyries unprotected from MacDuffs, even if it were only two of them. Even two could cause plenty of trouble.

The MacDuff and his men had gone east across the glen with Micheil and another MacKyrie lad, something Donal didn’t mind at all. Donal chose to lead the Lathans uphill, above the keep. Several of the MacKyrie lads rode with them as guides. They knew the landscape like the back of their hands. Donal expected them to keep the Lathans from riding off a cliff if they had to chase down a buck.

After several hours, they had killed a brace of rabbits, but their real quarry, a large red deer had eluded them. They started back down out of the hills.

“Keep sharp, lads,” Donal told them as they spotted tracks leading downward. “Our luck may be about to change.”

“Aye,” Forbes answered softly. “I’ll be sore embarrassed if we fail to bring down a buck and the MacDuff rides in with one.”

“Or more,” one of the MacKyrie lads added.

Donal grimaced but Jamie looked confident. “We’ll find one. These woods are full of them, aye?”

The MacKyrie lad answered by pointing.