“We already ken they’re daft, Jamie. They attack when they please. The miller and his family were frightened more than injured. I brought them into the castle until their home can be repaired.” He looked to Duncan for approval.
Duncan nodded and pointed to the man who was seated at the table stuffing food into his mouth. “This messenger is for ye, Robert. Sent by the MacKendimen from Dunnedin.”
An immobilizing tightness began in the pit of his stomach and spread throughout his body. He clenched his teeth and waited for the news from “home.” His parting from the clan had not been pleasant—Struan had insisted that he should train... and live... elsewhere. Away from the man who raised him, away from his clan. Away.
“Well, man, what’s the news from Dunnedin?” He was ready for anything now. But if Dougal thought that by making demands he would be successful in forcing Robert’s return, he was sorely mistaken.
“...for some weeks now.”
“I didna hear ye, lad. Would ye say that again?” Robert was so busy with his own thoughts he had missed the start of the message.
“The MacKendimen sends his greetings to the MacKillop and asks that this request be considered in light of the dire circumstances. Dougal Mathieson, faithful steward of the clan MacKendimen, was struck down by a seizure of the brain and lies near death.”
Robert gasped and the messenger stopped his recitation.Of all the things he’d imagined he’d hear, this was not one of them. He waved his hand to make the man begin again. His chest tightened and would not allow him to breathe. A knot grew in his gut as he listened to the rest of it.
“The illness overtook him some weeks ago but his condition haes worsened and the healer fears that he willna recover. Ye, Robert, are bid return to Dunnedin as soon as possible. The laird requests that ye come and take over yer faither’s duties since ye are trained in them. The MacKendimen kens this may be a hardship to the clan MacKillop, but begs their indulgence until he can find a suitable replacement.”
“Good God, Robert! Yer faither struck down? Ye must go to him before ’tis too late.” Duncan grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.
The news did not seem real, did not seem possible. His father near death? Not Dougal. He would never make it this easy for Robert to return to Dunnedin. Without recriminations? Without the hatred and accusations? It could not be this easy.
As he forced a ragged breath in and out, the ringing in his ears grew louder. He had to leave before he embarrassed himself before his laird. “I will leave tomorrow. If ye will excuse me, I have arrangements to make.”
Robert waited for permission. He saw the quizzical frown on Duncan’s face, but refused to acknowledge it—he would not answer questions about... home. Duncan finally nodded and Robert walked away from the table, down the steps, and around the sleeping bodies on the floor.
Passing through a smaller side room, Robert followed the smells into the kitchen rooms. A fire still blazed in the huge hearth, giving off heat on this frozen February night. ’Twas weeks past the day of Imbolc, the Celtic feast that Ada celebrated along with the old ones of the clan. He’d not missed it in the eight years that he’d served the MacKillops.
“Robert, yer back from yer search? How goes it?”
Old Ada limped over to him. She was a part of his life here. She had taken him in when he arrived here—no more a child and not yet a man. Her own children had died and she needed someone to tend. He never knew his own mother and needed one to care for him. They served each other’s needs andwatched each other’s backs. It had worked well for years.
“The miller and his family have moved onto the grounds. Their house was damaged by the raid.”
“I’ll see to them in the morn. Now, I have a hot bath ready for ye in the alcove. Come, take off those horrible things ye wear.”
“Ah, Ada, I do love the way ye care for me.” He followed the old woman through the cooking area to another small room near the laundry room. Robert could see the steam rising from the large tub of water.
“Put yer rags in that basket and I’ll get rid of them. Ye smell as if ye have been rolling in horse manure.”
“And what if I have?” He challenged her, rising up to his full height.
“Makes no difference to me, lad. Ye have a way of cleaning up nicely. Climb in afore the water cools.”
Robert peeled the sticky, smelly clothes from his sweating body. Winter or not, the long hard ride left him as winded and soaked with sweat as his stallion who was even now being tended in the stables. Ada’s look was that of a mother’s as he stripped before her. He threw the rags into a basket and stepped into the tub—moaning loudly as the heat slowly crept into his feet, then legs. After a moment, he sat down and submerged as much of his body as he could.
“If ye dinna stop making those noises, people will think more is going on here than really is.” Ada picked up a bowl of soap and a washing cloth. “Here now, wet yer head so I can lather ye.”
Robert sank below the water for a moment and let the hot water soften the grime in his hair. He did not enjoy the filth, but he did as he must in his duties. As he opened his eyes and saw Ada approach, he knew that telling her the news wouldn’t be enjoyable either.
The restof his bath was accomplished in the warm quiet of the alcove. Over and over in his mind, he hashed out the words he needed to say to Ada. Later, he would need to usethem again on the lass who waited in his bed.
“Ye are too quiet, Robert. The news from yer faither is bad?” Ada held out a drying cloth to him as he stepped from the tub.
“’Twas certainly no’ what I expected.” He rubbed most of the wetness from his body, then his hair. Ada offered a clean shirt to him and he pulled it over his head. It would be sufficient to cover him until he reached his room.
“Well, open yer mouth and speak. I could only overhear bits and pieces of it from the doorway.” She swatted his behind as she spoke.
He smiled at her admission of spying. Ada meddled wherever and whenever she thought she needed to—particularly if it involved him. Robert offered up another quick prayer of thanks to God for placing her here for him. Robert took her by the hand and led her to a bench. Sitting down next to her on it, he took a deep breath and found that the news from Dunnedin came forth from him in a rush of telling.
