Chapter Three
Brett studied the charred ground in the far corner of the field. It had not taken them long to put out the fire, despite the plentiful fuel for it to feed upon. What truly roused his curiosity was why, if the fire was meant to destroy the whole field of crops, had it been set in a place so easily seen from the walls of Banuilt? Not only that, but it had been set in a place easily reached, where there was little risk of many feet and a cart crossing the field and damaging the crop. It was possible that the men who had set the fire were simply witless fools, but he had some strong doubts about that. It was hard to believe any men could be quite that witless.
He looked at Triona, who stood by his side. It troubled him that he had such a fierce urge to brush the loose strands of hair from her face, and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides as he fought it. Despite what his family thought, he had turned away from women. If they ever uncovered that truth, a lot of questions would be asked, and he had no wish to explain why he allowed everyone to think him such a dissolute man when he was far from it. He did, however, need to remind himself of those reasons when he was near Triona.
“Why is the field called the blue field?” he asked, praying that talking to her about the trouble they had just dealt with would distract him from his growing attraction to her.
“Naming the field makes it quicker for everyone to ken which one we must all rush to,” replied Triona.
“And ye all have to rush off to tend to a field often, do ye?”
Triona sighed. She was so tired. The first troubles had begun only a fortnight after the well-trained men who had survived the fever had sailed away to France to seek their fortunes fighting for whoever offered them the most coin. Over the following nearly two years there had been few times when it had been peaceful at Banuilt. The people here spent far too much of their time repairing damage and not nearly enough building up Banuilt. She feared they now took more steps back than they did forward, and their lives would never return to the more profitable and plentiful ones they had all enjoyed before the fever had so devastated their people.
“Too often. I will just see to the placing of a few men to guard the field and make very certain the fire is truly out and we can return to the great hall. I can answer any questions ye may have then.”
Brett watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her gently rounded hips for a moment. Underneath her somewhat plain gowns there were obviously curves enough to hold a man’s interest. Then he quickly forced his errant thoughts back to the problem at hand. He had a lot of questions about what was going on at Banuilt but wondered how fully she would answer them. His greatest concern was for Arianna. He did not like to think he had placed his cousin in the midst of a very dangerous situation.
“Ye were right,” said Callum as he walked up to stand next to Brett.
“Of course I was. I usually am.” He grinned at the disgusted look Callum gave him. “What was I right about this time?”
“That something is badly amiss at Banuilt.”
“I believe we all agreed on that, and I also believe that I told ye Harcourt was the one to speak that thought aloud first.”
“No need to give the mon anything else to be vain about.”
“Of course not. Did anyone happen to mention exactly what is wrong here? For this”—Brett waved his hand in the direction of the burned ground—“badly done as it was, wasnae caused by any simple mischief or accident.”
“A few started to say something but stopped ere I could hear anything of any worth. I do believe the wee lass has an enemy or an angry, rejected suitor. All I did catch word of was that she should either kill him or marry him.”
“This seems to be more the act of an enemy than some angry lover.” And the idea of Triona having a lover burned in his belly, much to his dismay.
“’Tis a strange wooing, aye,” agreed Callum. “Unless ye are trying to ensure that she cannae survive or care for the people who depend upon her without the help of some mon to rule o’er it all.”
“Ah, of course. He isnae doing a verra good job of it, if that is his plan.”
“Weel, ye dinnae want to leave yourself naught but a smoldering ruin when ye finally gain your prize, now do ye. It may be, too, that the ones he is sending to do this dinnae really want to, and so they fail.”
A grunt of agreement was all that Brett could manage in response. His mind was already crowded with questions he needed answered. If there was any real danger to Arianna, he would have to get her away from here as quickly as possible, no matter how much he suddenly wanted to help Triona, who had looked so sad and weary. Arianna was not only his kinswoman who was with child, but she was now a MacFingal. That was not a clan his family wanted a feud with. In truth, he would be willing to risk angering the MacFingals, would even accept a small risk to Arianna, to help the people of Banuilt, for he believed they were in a fight for their very survival. What he would never do, however, was risk the child Arianna carried.
There was serious trouble brewing at Banuilt, of that he no longer had any doubt, but he could not even begin to guess what kind it was. It had also been going on long enough for the people here to become very well organized in fighting it. He had rushed out of the manor at the first ring of the alarum to find a cart with barrels of water already having its team hitched to it, and men dressed and racing off toward the fields. It had all been done quickly, without hesitation, and with no sign of panic. This had happened to them before, many times, and it was obvious that, in this, they were all very well trained.
When Triona walked past them, signaling that they follow her back to the manor, he and his men did so silently. Brett could tell by the looks upon the faces of his companions that their concerns matched his. What had been idle speculation over the oddities they had noticed only a few hours ago was now a certainty. Something was very wrong at Banuilt.
Triona ordered some ale, cider, and wine to be set out for the men and then hurried off to her bedchamber to wash away the soot on her hands. There was little she could do to be rid of the smell of smoke that clung to her clothes and hair. She doubted the five men waiting for her to explain what was happening would be pleased to wait while she bathed and changed her clothes. They were concerned for what they may have just brought their kinswoman into the middle of.
After taking a quick peek at herself in the looking glass her late husband had given her as a wedding gift, Triona made her way back down to the great hall. She knew her reluctance to tell Sir Brett and the others the ugly truth about life at Banuilt was due less to how it might bruise her pride by making her look like a weak laird, and far more to do with how they might decide to take Arianna and leave. It definitely did sting her pride to admit, even if only to herself, but five skilled knights were sorely needed, and it would be a hard loss if they rode away.
“’Tis your trouble to deal with, Triona,” she softly scolded herself. “Nay theirs.”
As she entered the great hall, the first thing she noticed was the vast amount of food and drink her women had set out for the men. She would have to speak to the women, for if they continued to offer their guests such bounty, the larder would swiftly be emptied. Triona doubted the others returning from the field would be offered such a feast. It was not that long since they had had a meal, and it was a bit early to be breaking their fast.
Glancing around as she made her way to her seat, she also saw that no one had brought Arianna down from her bedchamber to join in this discussion. She doubted that was because they all felt a woman with child needed a lot of rest, which she did, and was more because they knew Arianna would immediately offer her aid without much thought for her own safety. For one brief moment, Triona considered sending for her cousin but quickly shook that thought aside. It would not be honorable to interfere with the men’s decision in such a way. They had a duty to their kinswoman and the child she carried. Triona would not try to undermine that duty in such a sly way.
“What is it ye would like me to tell ye?” she asked as she sat down and poured herself a tankard of cider, wondering if there was any way she could calm their worries without telling them everything.
“That fire was no lad’s prank, some simple mischief, or even an accident, was it?” said Brett, watching her face closely in the hope that he could detect it if she lied.
“Nay. It was yet another attempt to keep Banuilt from reaping a harvest good enough to stave off hunger this winter,” she replied, hating that she had to tell these men how bad things were at Banuilt and how little she had been able to do to stop the constant harassment.
“Ye have an enemy.”
“Nay as ye mean it, I am thinking. There are no direct attacks upon us and no bloodshed.” At least not yet, she mused as she sipped her cider. She could see by their expressions that the men were thinking much the same.
“Weel, no need to do so if they starve ye,” said Sir Callum.
“Verra true.” For such a handsome man he could look impressively fierce, she decided.
“Who does this to ye and your people?” asked Sir Brett.
“My neighbor to the west, Sir John Grant, laird of Gormfeurach.”
“And he has been doing it for a while, hasnae he? Ye were too weel organized for such an event, too quickly readied to go and put out the fire, for it to have been something rare.”
“We began to practice a swift response after the third fire in the fields. ’Tis when I also named each field a color. It allows us to get to the right one quickly. There are two wagons always readied with barrels of water and buckets, one in the village and one here. Everyone in the village who can run comes to the field to help, so that whatever fire has been set can be put out with as little damage done as possible. It has still cost us dearly but nay enough that we have all gone hungry.” She sighed. “If we had not lost so many to the fever, we might have faced starvation, though. There are now a lot fewer people to feed at Banuilt.”
“And a lot fewer at Gormfeurach?”
“Aye. They fell ill at nearly the same time. We think it came with the drovers, but we cannae be sure. Nor are we sure who had the illness first or who gave it to whom. It doesnae matter. It killed a lot of us. We had more women survive it, and Gormfeurach had more men survive it. For a verra brief time, that appeared to bring us e’en closer than we had ever been, but it was a short-lived peace. Sir John saw to that.”
“Because ye became the laird here when your husband died?”
“That is some of it. Sir John doesnae believe that is right. This isnae some clan stronghold as ye get in the Highlands, but a part of a much larger holding. ’Tis mine, but there is an agreement of sorts with a richer, more powerful laird to the north of us. He is our liege and he is the liege of Sir John, as weel. He allows me to rule here, although I think he doesnae truly like it, but Sir John is verra unhappy about it.”
“Why has your liege laird nay done anything about what Sir John is doing?” asked Callum. “Ye have complained to him, have ye nay?”
“Oh, aye, many times. I only recently gave up doing so. Sir John is far closer to the mon than I am,” Triona replied. “I am but Sir Boyd McKee’s widow. The mon believes Sir John’s denials and feigned sense of saddened insult. He undoubtedly believes I am naught but a silly woman trying to find someone else to blame for my own incompetence. Since I have nay actual proof of Sir John’s crimes, only my word against his, I ceased to complain for I feared the laird would decide that someone else should hold this land. I am nay sure he could hand it over to someone else, but I have nay wish to test that.”
“Do ye have papers concerning the rights to all of this land?”
“Aye. And that is another thing that troubles Sir John. Back before my husband’s first wife’s grandfather’s time, one of my husband’s first wife’s kin did a mighty favor for the king and the ruler gave a piece of the Grant land to Banuilt. The king wasnae verra happy with the Grants at the time. They owed him money, and some of their kinsmen had been traitors to the Crown. So the land was the payment and was then handed over to the McKees as a reward for their help in the matter. Sir John wants it back. ’Tis good land. Fertile and weel watered. Our liege cannae fix that, for it was a king’s grant—so that has only added to Sir John’s unhappiness.”
“Might I see what papers ye do have?”
“Of course. Any time ye wish, I shall show them to ye. But why?”
“I may find something that can settle your worry about losing this land and thus give ye the confidence to press your complaints about Sir John.”
She smiled at Callum. “That would be verra helpful. Thank ye.”
“Are Sir John’s men incompetent?” asked Harcourt.
Triona frowned. “Nay. Why would ye think so?”
“Because that fire was poorly set, if it was meant to destroy the whole crop.”
“Ah. We believe that Sir John’s people are nay fully behind his attempts to destroy me. The people of Banuilt and Gormfeurach have been allies for many, many years. There are so many connections among the people through marriages and all, that there has always been easy, open passage between the two lands. They all have kin in each place, or good friends. They also believe the land was given fairly, and by royal decree, so Sir John really doesnae have a right to cry foul. They ken the history of it all far better than he does, I am thinking. We have also helped them as often as they have helped us in the past.”
“Firmly joined then.”
“Aye, in so many ways. I dinnae understand why Sir John has taken it into his head that he should have this land. None of the previous lairds of Gormfeurach bothered. There was ne’er any trouble. I begin to think Sir John has nursed his sense of injustice for many years and, once Boyd was dead, felt he had a chance to put things back to what they were.”
“So he sends men to burn your fields?” Brett frowned, thinking that she was not telling them everything, but decided he would just let her tell them what she wanted to now, and press for more later.
“Burn our fields, steal our harvests, steal our livestock, and such as that. He wants me to give up. He wants me to walk away, I am thinking.”
He also wanted her to marry him, but Triona was reluctant to admit that. Something told her that these men would find Sir John’s insistence that she marry him so he could take Banuilt as his own as appalling as she did, but she could not be sure. The very last thing she needed at the moment was men telling her to do as Sir John wanted so that her people would not suffer. It was what most men would do, and she did not know these men well enough yet to be certain they would not do the same.
Guilt often made her consider giving in, but she could still banish it easily. She knew Sir John and she knew he would be a bad laird for her people. His own people were not fond of him, but loyalty to the clan and love for their home kept them under his thumb. He was a vain, greedy man, and she knew without any doubt at all that he would be very bad for Banuilt. Unfortunately, his attempts to beggar them and starve them were also bad for them all.
“He has ne’er openly attacked ye or any of your people, has he?” asked Brett.
“Nay. He has spilled nay blood o’er this. He wants us to bend to him, to come to him because we are broken and starving. Then he, in all his gracious charity, will take the reins.” She winced, knowing she sounded as angry as she felt, her bitterness over the situation leeching into her words.
“Go and get some rest, m’lady. Ye have told us enough.”
“So ye will be taking Arianna somewhere else?” She tried not to show her disappointment, understanding that they had to think of her cousin first.
“Nay. We will stay. As ye said, nay blood has been spilled, nay direct attack against the people has occurred, so there is nay real threat to our cousin. I think Sir John Grant needs ye to hand the land over to him, there being nay other way he can get it without bringing trouble down upon his own head. We will stay and we will do our best to make him change his mind.”
She blinked, unable to believe what he was saying. “Ye mean to help us?”
“Aye, we do,” he said firmly, and all his companions nodded in agreement. “We shall stay until this is settled. One of the first things we shall do is begin to train your men. Mayhap a strong garrison will help. After all, Sir John didnae cause ye trouble ere the garrison left, did he?”
“Nay, but they left soon after Boyd died, when the fever had finally waned, so I cannae say for certain that their presence would have made any difference.”
“They should ne’er have deserted their posts.”
“I understand why they did. We have ne’er had any troubles here, nay for a verra long time, so the need for their protection of the land was nay one that was clear to see. And, during and right after the fever struck, we lost so much that the temptation of gaining some coin to bring back the life they had kenned was more than they could resist.”
“So they stole your horses and emptied your armory and went away.”
“Weel, it wasnae truly theft. I didnae tell them nay to take the things, and they were doing what they thought would help Banuilt. I but wish I could ken how they are all doing, for they have been gone, oh, eighteen months or so, and there hasnae been any word.”
“Mayhap we can think of some way to find out how they fare. Go rest, m’lady. We can tend to ourselves.”
She nodded and went to her bedchamber. Her whole body ached with weariness, and even the fact that five strong men had just said they would stay and help her battle Sir John did not ease it. Morning was going to come all too soon, and she had so much work to do. A few more hours of rest was more important than thrashing out a plan at the moment.
“There is something she isnae telling us,” said Harcourt as soon as Triona was gone, the doors to the great hall shut behind her.
“I ken it, but she will eventually, or we will discover what it is,” said Brett. “I have a suspicion or two.”
“Care to share what they are?”
“What is the easiest way for a mon to get his hands on a woman’s lands?”
“Ah, of course. Ye think he wants her to wed with him and thus make himself laird of it all. Why wouldnae she just say so?”
“Many men would tell her, bluntly, to cease making her people pay for her reluctance and marry the mon. I suspect she has been told just that, too often, since her husband died. She doesnae ken us weel enough to ken if we are of that ilk or nay. Most of the people here are young or female, so her resistance doesnae trouble them. Mayhap they agree in part because they dinnae like Sir John. It may be an idea to try to get some knowledge of the mon. She could be fighting to keep her people out from under a bad laird’s bootheel as much as she is fighting an unwanted marriage.”
Uven nodded. “I think he would have to be a mon that would make a bad laird, simply because of what he is doing to get what he wants. Especially since what he wants isnae due him, as he believes it is. But working to starve people, mostly women and children, into making the lady wed him? Cannae think that any mon who would do that could be a good mon.”
“I think she forgives her garrison a wee bit too quickly as weel,” said Harcourt. “They deserted her and took horses and weaponry she could have made good use of.”
Brett nodded. “I wouldnae be so forgiving, either, but they may have done it for just the reasons she said. After such a disease devastates a place, things can be verra bad. When so many fall ill there are a lot of tasks that cannae be done, and if many die, then there are nay enough people to ever catch up. The idea comes along that money could be made by selling one’s sword for a while, and there is the solution to the trouble, the hunger, and the care their families need. Foolish, mayhap, and nay so weel thought out, but nay such a crime. I just wonder if that is what truly happened.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I ken that a lot of men cannae write, but they always find a priest or monk to pen some word to their kin when they travel. These men have been gone for near to two years and there hasnae been a word? There hasnae e’en been a body sent home to be buried, or wounded sent home to be tended by their kin? Or e’en gifts bought with the coin they are supposedly earning?”
Harcourt rubbed his chin and frowned. “That is odd. Nay e’en word that they arrived safely and found work. Aye, ye are right. There is something verra odd about that.”
“And who would benefit from the loss of the weel-trained garrison?”
“Dear Sir John, although he hasnae attacked the place, so that cannae be why he would want them gone. As Lady McKee said, he cannae just take the place by force or he will bring a fair load of trouble down on his own head. It has to be given, sold, or married into.”
“But no garrison means it is easier to play this game of burning fields and stealing stock and trying to starve the people into submission. Who is here to stop ye save women, bairns, the old, and the completely untrained?”
“But if they didnae go to France, where are they? Ye dinnae think the mon had them all slaughtered, do ye?”
“I dinnae ken. It may be naught and I have just let my mind weave wild tales, but I just cannae shake the feeling that all is nay as it appears.”
“Another matter to look into,” Callum said.
“Nay sure how to do that, but, aye, it should be looked at most carefully,” agreed Brett, and then he yawned.
“I think it best if we catch a few more hours of rest, too,” said Harcourt as he stood up. “If naught else there are men to start training, and from what I have seen, that will take all the strength we have.”
Brett laughed as he followed his brother out of the great hall, Uven, Callum, and Tamhas coming after them. He briefly wondered if he was right to think it was safe for Arianna at Banuilt and then shook aside his concern. Sir John had not spilled blood in almost two years. He doubted the man would start now. He wanted capitulation, and he did not want to anger their liege laird, an obvious ally, by trying to steal Banuilt by force. The man probably also saw the keeping of the people who worked the land hale and ready to begin working to his advantage when he took hold of Banuilt.
Proof of the man’s crimes was needed. That was what they had to work toward as they helped Lady Triona keep Sir John’s vicious little games from bringing Banuilt down. With proof, she or some representative of her choosing could go to their liege laird and demand justice. It would be easier to just kill the fool, but Brett decided watching the man brought down would be almost as satisfying. He fully intended to show Sir John Grant that sometimes giving in to greed could lose a man everything he had.