Laren couldn’t voice a single word. He’d been alive for only four days and it seemed impossible that he’d breathed his last.
Hadn’t she felt his soft face against the curve of her breast? Hadn’t he cried until she’d comforted him, reassuring him of how much she loved him?
Beside her, Alex was silent. The shock of their son’s death had been an ill omen, now that her husband was chief. It cast a shadow over them and she felt as though they were a thousand miles apart.
Her body was weakened from giving birth, but she couldn’t bear to eat or drink. The numbing grief consumed her. Though Alex said something after Father Nolan completed the final blessing, she didn’t hear it.
She walked away from him, needing solitude. She couldn’t bear to hear any words of comfort, nor did she deserve his embrace.
Her path led her around the edge of the loch, leaving everyone behind. Even Mairin.
She couldn’t cry, couldn’t scream, couldn’t rage against the Fate that had torn her baby out of her life. All she could do was walk. And when she heard Alex’s footsteps following behind, she didn’t turn around.
Chapter Five
Larenhadjustgiventhe girls over to Vanora for an evening meal when Bram approached. “I saw the glass before Nairna wrapped it,” he said. His voice was low and there was a warning hidden within his tone. “You’re going to tell Alex about this before we go.”
Her face must have revealed her hesitation, for he added, “If you don’t tell him, I will. Be assured of it.”
She hadn’t expected her brother-in-law to react so strongly. “Why does it matter if I tell him now or later? For all we know, it may have no value at all to the monks.” She clenched her fists, her nerves trembling.
“Oh, it has value. And if I know my wife, she’ll get exactly what she wants.” He nodded towards Nairna, who was busy speaking to a small group of women. “I’ve heard the others talking. They haven’t the brains God gave a carrot, but they think you’re spending your time in idleness. They’ve formed a false opinion of you.”
“I don’t care what they think of me.”
“It reflects poorly on Alex. If they knew the truth, they would show more respect to both of you.” Bram reached forwards and touched her glove. “You have until morning to tell him.” The scars around his throat tightened and she understood that he would uphold the threat.
While Bram returned to the wall the men were constructing, Laren let out the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t feel at all ready to reveal this to Alex. Not when he was fighting to keep their clan together, to unite them in the rebuilding.
But Bram’s words burrowed beneath her skin like a barb.They think you’re spending your time in idleness.
She wasn’t. The glass she made did have value; she knew it in her heart. Somehow, she would use it to help all of them.
Thetorchesflaredinthe darkness as Alex stood before the men. Once, there had been nearly three dozen. Now, they numbered fewer than twenty. In their faces, he saw discontent and frustration. “I thought we should join together and talk,” he began. “Some of you seem to have doubts about our rebuilding.”
“It’s a waste of energy,” came the voice of Brodie MacKinloch. “We haven’t the men to build a castle. And what would we need it for? Our clan isn’t important enough. The English will simply return and destroy what’s left of us, now that the French are gone.”
“If we build our homes of wood, they’ll simply burn us out again,” Alex responded. “It’s a greater waste of time.”
“But faster.” Brodie stood, studying the faces of their kinsmen. “You seem to think we’re one of the great clans of the north. But look at us. We’ve nowhere to live and hardly any food. If we want to survive the winter, we have to leave.”
Alex saw the agreement dawning over the faces of the men and he had to put a stop to it. “We’ve enough to make it through the winter if everyone shares.” He stood up and met Brodie face to face. “Years ago, Tavin dreamed of building a great castle, one to defend our people. But we never believed we could do it.”
“Because we can’t,” Brodie argued.
Alex stepped forward, using his height to stare down at the man. “And you’re going to let the English defeat us, are you? You’re going to run away to your wife’s family in Perth, hiding like a coward?” He raised his voice almost to a shout. “They may have burned Glen Arrin to the ground, but I’ll not let them scatter our clan. They will not divide us.”
His anger was barely contained, rising into a fury. “We’re going prove to them that we’re stronger. And if they dare to attack us again, their blood will fall upon our soil.”
“Alex,” came the voice of his friend Ross, “perhaps it’s better to be practical than to dream of castles and a fortress we can’t afford.”
He spun, confronting the older man. “You don’t believe our clan is worth fighting for?”
“We’ve been fighting the English for years now,” Ross said. “And they keep coming back. We can’t get rid of them.”
“They want us to give up,” Alex said quietly. “They want us to hang our heads and dwell upon our losses, believing we’re not strong enough.” He stared into the eyes of each and every man, letting his words fall upon them. “But they’re wrong.”
He pointed to the hills and mountains in the distance. “We have wood from our forests. Stone from the mountains. And the labor of our hands. If we don’t stand together, more English garrisons will spread across Scotland. We’ve seen it with our allies and our enemies.” He met Ross’s apprehensive look, adding, “If our clan splits apart, we’ll have nothing. Not our friends. Not our clan. Not our freedom.”
