“So, what ye are saying is that the men of Glencullaich are best at defending and may nay be so verra good at offense.”
“Aye. Every mon there will fight to their last breath to protect their homes, e’en the ones nay born there. And, if too many of the men fall, those women will pick up the swords and stand in their place. Glencullaich is more than their home. ’Tis in their blood, their hearts. They all live weel here and we ken how rare a blessing that is.”
“Aye. I can see why though. ’Tis true there are ones who like a wee fight now and then to add something to what they think is a dull life, but most just want peace. They want to tend to their shops or their fields, marry, sire a few bairns, and ken that those bairns willnae be cut down whilst still nursing just because some fool wants something he has no right to.”
“There will always be such men.”
“And that is our curse, isnae it.” He stared into the camp when several men arrived dragging three cows. “And mayhap it would be best if Sir Adam would just get on with it so we can kill him. Much more of this and Glencullaich will have to replace a lot of livestock.”
“Mayhaps the drovers and the shepherds can find a safer place,” Nicolas murmured and then scowled as, after the cattle were taken off to be slaughtered outside the camp, the men who had brought them handed over several sacks to two surprisingly large women. “Foragers. Appears our neighbors are also suffering because of this.”
“And I suspicion Annys will be thinking of how to help them if they need it after all this is cleared away.”
“Of a certain.” Nicolas shrugged. “’Tis what one must do, isnae it, e’en if it is done with as kind a heart as your lady has. This trouble has come here because of her, because of David’s kinsmen. She kens it isnae her fault but also kens that this wouldnae be happening if nay for the greed of David’s family.”
“Ah, look. That is Clyde, isnae it? The tall mon who is picking what he wants from the things the foragers, and thieves by the look of it since no one can eat candles or candlesticks, have returned with.”
“Aye, that would be him. Saw him once when Sir Adam came to rail at David. That mon has a darkness in him that e’en gives me the chills. He is the killer we all fear whether we want to admit it or nay. He kills without a hint of remorse or regret, mon, woman, or child, makes no difference. And if the way Biddy died is any sign, he can enjoy himself in the doing of it if he chooses.”
“A mon who badly needs killing.”
“Verra badly. If I was a good bowman, I would take him down from here and, I promise ye, nary a mon there would come hunting us.”
“Weel, I believe I have seen enough.”
Harcourt carefully moved away, staying low and quiet until he could stand out of sight of the camp, Nicolas following and doing the same. Then they kept to the cover of the trees and shadows until they reached the place where they had tethered their horses. Harcourt said nothing as they rode back to Glencullaich, keeping a watch for any of Sir Adam’s men, until the keep came into sight.
“A part of one can understand the mon’s desire for this place,” he said as they slowed their pace and let down their guard a little. “Good land, plenty of water, a fine strong keep. But he doesnae want it for the right reasons, for what makes it such a prize.”
“The people and the peace of it all.”
“Exactly. He will bleed it dry and destroy the lives of all these people. Nay just Annys and Benet but every mon, woman, and child here. There can be no bargaining with him.”
Nicolas nodded. “None at all, but ye kenned that.”
“I did. ’Tis just me reminding myself for I ken the mon has to die. He will ne’er let it be, nay matter what he may promise if cornered and pressed for a vow.”
“Do ye think your lady hopes for some bargain, some pact that will end this?”
“Oh, aye, she hopes but she also kens it will nay happen.”
As Harcourt rode through the gates he saw Benet on the steps up to the keep. The child smiled and waved at him, while idly stroking his lamb with his other hand. Seated comfortably on the lamb’s back was the cat. Harcourt’s heart lightened at the welcome from his son. He decided to ignore the boy’s strange companions, as well as Nicolas’s laughter. It was not as easy as he thought it should be because too many others in the bailey were grinning or laughing at the sight.
“Harcourt?” Nicolas called softly as they dismounted and the stable boys came to take their horses.
“Dinnae speak on it,” Harcourt muttered.
“Just have to say one wee thing. Ye do ken that, if ye find a solution to what must separate ye and Lady Annys, that when ye leave here with the lad and her, ye leave with those two creatures as weel, dinnae ye?”
“Mayhap I can find a solution to them, too.”