“She’s a McGregor,” Rory huffed again. “Blame enough.”
“I say it is not,” Bryan countered quietly, all trace of mirth gone from his voice. His eyes met Barclay’s implacably. “And I say that short of the bonds around her wrists, she shall be treated as no less than a diplomatic envoy being transported safely tae Castle Oliphant. If I decide that even the bonds are no longer a necessity, ye lot will comport yerselves just the same. Do ye intend tae disobey my orders, Barclay? For if so, ‘twould be the first time. Likely the last one as well.”
Barclay and Rory maintained steady eye contact with their commander, but some of the other Oliphant men behind them exchanged confused and doubtful looks.
Bryan risked a glance in Katherine’s direction to see whether this insistence on his part might be putting her at ease. Her expression remained neutral, though he still saw the glimmer of fear in her eyes and noted her pallor in the moonlight.
“Nay,” Barclay said, loud enough to make the point that he was not only answering his captain, but informing the others to stand down as well. “Every man among us is loyal to ye without question, as ever was and will be. We merely wished tae ensure that this ‘lady’ didnae have her hooks in ye in some way, is all.”
“Women.” Apparently, Rory felt that no further word or phrase was required to clarify his position on the matter.
“At any rate,” Barclay continued, mustering a jovial tone, “we brought provisions from the castle, an’ we were just aboot taetuck in. Here, we brought a portion for ye as well, in case yer own had run out.”
“It has, and I thank ye,” Bryan replied genially, hoping that they might be able to put that brief bit of tension behind them.
He had trained and served with all of the men assembled, and trusted them with his life in battle several times over. None of them had ever given him any reason to believe they could be disloyal; no, not for all the gold in Scotland, nor for promises of power from every laird in the land.
Still, Bryan could not help but remember that one of the key traitors in Romilly’s plot against Laird Alex had been one of Bryan’s own guardsmen; one he would have likewise trusted.
He hadn’t spoken of it to anyone, but his belief in his own ability to command had been shaken after that. His soldiers had unfailingly followed his commands as ever, and had shown nothing but the utmost respect and deference to him that they always had.
That did not prevent him from wondering, in his most private moments, whether they might secretly ask themselves how they could continue to serve a man whose judgment had been so fatally flawed that it had nearly cost them the life of their laird.
Barclay handed the rations of brown bread, salted pork, and a turnip over to Bryan, then produced his own and began to devour it.
Bryan was about to do likewise when he glanced at Katherine again. “Where is her portion?” he asked.
Barclay frowned at him incredulously. “We didnae bring any for her. Why would we? She’s a bloody prisoner!”
“I thought I had made myself clear in that regard,” Bryan reminded him. “She is not tae be mistreated in any way.”
“None for her,” Rory grunted, finishing the last few morsels of his own rations.
Bryan tried staring them down, but inwardly, he was uncertain of how far he ought to take this. He’d never had to discipline any of them by force before, and he certainly didn’t want to start now. He could not allow them to openly disrespect him further, but neither could he allow them to think his desire to protect a McGregor outweighed his loyalty to his own clan.
His stomach grumbled, and at that moment, he knew precisely what needed to be done in order to best defuse the situation.
“Here,” he said, handing his food to Katherine. “She shall have mine, then, and we’ll say no more about it.”
As he placed the items in her outstretched palms, he realized how difficult it would be for her to maintain a grip on it all while eating properly with her wrists bound. Without a word, he produced a dagger and cut her bonds, then looked in the direction of Barclay and Rory, as though daring them to protest.
“Ye do not fear she might do ye harm?” Barclay inquired. His tone was mild, but there was intense curiosity, and suspicion, in his beady eyes.
Bryan smirked. “Not so long as I’ve got six fiercely loyal and stout-hearted fellows such as yerselves tae protect me from her.”
Barclay held his gaze for a few more moments, then sauntered a short distance away and supervised the lighting of a campfire. The others followed him, as though collectively making a point. If Bryan was determined to embark on this folly, then he was on his own.
Bryan tried not to outwardly betray his consternation at the gesture. However, they were still close enough that they could come running if there was trouble.
And he still believed theywoulddo that, despite their current fit of pique.
“Thank ye,”Katherine said quietly, beginning with the salted pork.
From the way her nose wrinkled as she tore the tough meat with her teeth, she was used to far more refined cuisine. Nevertheless, she gave him a grateful nod and continued, taking a rough bite from the bread as well.
“It was the least I could do,” he replied. “As I said before, ye are safe with me, and so long as ye dinnae attempt escape, yer comfort is of paramount importance tae me.”
“Aye.” She glanced up at him, and her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Ye did say that, didn’t ye? And now ye’ve had yer chance tae prove it as well.”
