“Is Malcolm not coming by so ye can see them off?”
“He is. The long trip to the clan we were raised with will be a chance for him to heal with them, although Mongfind will have no memory of her mother. That may be a good thing.” Ethne turned her loving gaze to him. “Thank ye for aiding him in his escape. I admit I am not sorry Domelch drowned.”
Lachlann kissed her gently. “And fear not, we will visit. They are not so verra far away from Niall’s clan.”
She frowned. “Ye always refer to it as Niall’s clan. Why is that? Is it not yer clan as well?”
“He is the son of the true chieftain. I like to remind him of that.”
Niall added, “And Lachlann is the most loyal man ye will ever meet, Ethne. I do not exaggerate even the tiniest bit.”
Aldred nodded, but remained quiet, preferring to shovel in more of the warmed bread the lovely redhead had just brought to him.
“He leaves it to me to decide where we will belong. Whether it is in my uncle’s clan or one I establish on my own.”
“And that is what ye will use the money for?” she asked, shaking the leather sack that sat before them in the middle of the table. “Do ye know its worth?”
“Not really,” Lachlann said, then signaled to Niall.
Niall emptied the silver coins on the table where they spun and chimed together. A few warriors glanced their way, but they had heard the story of the silver from the caves. They had no interest in money intended for the church.
“Well, see this man?” Niall asked. “A king, I believe someone said.”
“That’s the Northumbrian king. Alfred, I believe his name is,” Brian said.
The coins didn’t look to be so very many, but they would do what they could with whatever the nuns offered to them in thanks.
“And the hole is nearly through the top of his head.” Aldred squinted at the coin. “Is that how he died then? A hammer to the head?”
Brian laughed. “It could be. ’Twas before my time. And being that I’m not from Northumbria…”
He left the rest unsaid.
Lachlann picked up a coin, also inspecting it. “Are ye certain, Brian, ’tis King Alfred, the Northumbrian?”
“Aye. I’ve accepted the coins myself in payment when collecting taxes for the mormaer. Ye need not worry. The silver is of the highest quality. That was why the king had them minted.”
Lachlann lay a hand carefully on the trestle table, but said nothing until all eyes were on him.
“What is amiss?” Niall finally asked.
“We need to discuss our plans.”
Brian stood, hitched up the leather wrapped around his waist, and said, “Then I’ll be off. The mormaer returns today. I’ve a need to find out how Olaf was received by the islanders. The man is a disgrace to be certain.”
Lachlann watched Brian retreat, searched nearby to assure no one was within listening, and moved ever so slightly forward. “These are not the coins that are due to the priory.”
Niall and Aldred exchanged doubtful glances before Niall spoke. “How can ye know that, Lachlann? It may not be as much as we expected, but it will make a great difference to the priory’s upkeep. Even if we canna accept any payment in kind for what we’ve done.”
“Niall.” He waited a moment longer before finally saying, “These coins were minted too late for them to be from Saint Gervadius. Alfred hadn’t been born yet when he collectedhissilver, when he worked as a mercenary.”
Aldred and Niall searched more closely through the coins.
“They are all the same,” Aldred finally said.
Lachlann winked at Ethne, who smiled. “How did ye find these coins?”
“Finn and I collected them from the ground. They would show up in the strangest places.”
