“Nay, lass. ’Tis where the men practice combat. Most crops are grown by the villagers that we passed, but we do have gardens beyond the keep also.
They climbed a hill that overlooked the training field. Here there were different merchants who stood motionless as they stopped what they were doing to greet their laird while he rode past them. She saw one man with a boot in his hand, which he was putting new leather on the bottom.
Roderick called out to each vassal as they rode past or gave them a friendly nod. He was nothing like his legend of being a devil. He seemed to truly care for his people.
It was her brother who’d been the devil, Siena thought.
They stopped by a long building that appeared to be a stable by the smell. Roderick pulled Hercules to a halt. He lowered Siena to the ground with his left arm. She stood to the side as he dismounted. A short man with a round belly ambled out of the stables with a wooden pitchfork in one hand, which he stabbed into the ground. He wore the Scott’s plaid that matched his red hair and beard.
“Ah, welcome home, Laird Scott,” he said. “Ye surely huv been missed.”
“Garvin, ’tis good to see ye,” Roderick replied. He tossed the reins to the man. “Rub Hercules down and give him some extra oats. It has been a long few days.” Roderick rubbed the back of his aching neck. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he returned home. It was as if the weight of the world had been sitting on his shoulders and he wasn’t sure he knew what normal was anymore. He turned to Siena. “Come, Siena and I’ll have a servant find ye a room. I’m sure Agatha is already there waiting for ye.”
Siena wasn’t certain what to say other than, “Thank you.”
Once they entered the great hall, which was twice as big as the one at Berwick, she expected to see his family. However, there was no one to greet them, just the crackling of the fire that looked most inviting to warm their bones.
Roderick nudged her. “Follow me.”
Siena smiled to herself. Hadn’t she been following him since she had met him? The man sure loved to issue orders.
They climbed stone steps to the second floor, then made their way down a long hall. Roderick stopped in front of an oak door and shoved it open. “I think ye will be comfortable here.”
Siena’s legs felt like water after climbing the stairs, and it was then that she realized she still wasn’t completely well. She sagged against him, longing for the bed. A yellow colored feather comforter was spread over what looked like a very comfortable bed. There was the red Scott plaid that Roderick wore folded across the bottom. She liked that. Had his wife left that feminine touch?
Agatha came bustling into the room, smiling from ear to ear. “I knew he would find you, milady.” She opened her arms and gathered Siena into a hug.
“I’m thankful he did.”
“I’ll have hot water and bandages sent up for yer bath,” Roderick said from the doorway. “I will also have Elen look in on ye as she kens the most about healing.”
“Thank you.” Siena tried to force her confused emotions in order as she sat down on a chair beside the bed. I would like a few days to get my strength back to what it should be,” she said, and then added, looking at Roderick. “If you don’t mind.”
“Aye. I think that is a good idea, lass. You have been through a great deal and rest is probably the best medicine. Food will be sent up so that ye can eat in yer room and rest. We will have plenty of time to talk later,” Roderick said, then he turned and shut the door behind him.
* * *
Later that nightin the great hall, Roderick and his men gathered for dinner. The sounds of men laughing and talking were a good sound to him. He sat behind the high table. There were three long wooden tables in front of his table filled with his men.
They talked among themselves as food was served, and Roderick noticed the tension had eased from his men. Perhaps, they were glad they could put the past behind them now that they had their revenge. He hoped so. He felt a little lighter himself.
Roderick picked up a bannock and spread creamy butter on the bread. He took a bite, savoring the taste of the warm bread, then followed it with a swig of ale.
“Where is yer prisoner?” Duncan asked as he joined his laird.
“She isn’t my prisoner.”
Duncan took his seat beside Roderick. “Then what is she?”
“You just willna let it go?” Roderick grumbled. “Ye’re like a blasted thorn in my side.”
“Ah, weel. I like gettin’ under yer skin.” Duncan grinned, then took a swig of ale.
“If you were not such an old man, I’d knock ye out.”
Duncan chuckled. “So, where is the lass?”
“My guest,” Roderick said pointedly, “is in her room. I want her fully recovered before she joins us.”
