“Nay as he thinks. I will return before ye have need of more food, even if it is only to dash in and leave some. Rest, Sir Callum.”
“’Tis about all I do,” he grumbled.
“Because ’tis the best medicine.”
Then she was gone and Callum sighed as he leaned against the wall. It was going to be a very long few weeks. He worried about Cathan but knew he could do nothing about the boy, and all his instincts told him the boy was in good hands. Despite her father’s tendency to hit, the boy was still safer where he was than trapped in a cave with a crippled man.
He glared down at his leg. Despite what Bethoc said, he was sure he would be useless for a few months at least. It was a wretched time for such an injury. Callum shut his eyes and sighed. He would have to put his faith in Bethoc. She was the only thing that kept him alive. Since he did not think that was much to count on, he also prayed his friends would find him soon. He was going to need their help.
Chapter Four
“Where is the food?” demanded her father as he marched into the house followed by the boys.
“Near to ready,” said Bethoc as she turned to the meat on the spit.
“Damn weel should be,” he grumbled as he moved to clean up, all the boys waiting patiently as he used the water first.
A flash of anger went through her but she forced it down. He had no right to complain about the meals, the timing or the quality. That made no difference to him, however. Criticizing was what he did best.
Bethoc looked at the boys. They all wore the tight, blank expressions she knew hid strong emotions. Cathan looked as if he fought tears but she saw no visible bruises on him and suspected the boy was just not accustomed to such constant tension and alarm. Her father needed to be more careful, however. He was losing his workforce but she doubted he took much notice.
By the time everyone was seated, and after her father had taken his share first, they began to eat. Bethoc was wondering how he could not sense the anger the boys were holding in. She could and could barely eat because of it. Something had happened and she wished she had the freedom, and courage, to just demand to know what was wrong.
Kerr Matheson was pushing too hard, she thought. The boys had never been so unified in their anger. She was going to need to have a talk with them, she decided. They were still too young, too weak, to go up against the man. Bethoc did not even want to think of what would be the result of such a confrontation. They were also too young to just leave and face the world.
There was no talk over dinner and that was different. It could be because he had been in the fields with the boys but she suspected it was because the boys were intent on being silent. Her stomach was tied up in knots as she waited for something to happen, for the confrontation that was so obviously brewing. She prayed her father was not in the mood for a fight. He ended that hope with his next words.
“Are ye going to sulk for the whole night?” Kerr asked, his attention still on his food.
“Ye destroyed weeks of work,” Colin burst out.
“Ye shouldnae have wasted precious time on planting berry bushes.”
“Food is ne’er a waste of time.”
She could not fully stop herself from jumping when her father lunged across the table and grabbed Colin by the front of his shirt. It was immediately followed by a hard slap to the boy’s face. Bethoc could see Colin clenching his fists repeatedly as their father threw himself back into his seat.
“Ye best watch what ye say, boy. Show some respect.”
“To what? Ye throwing a fit and ripping out weeks of work? For nay reason at all!”
Bethoc whispered a protest but no one paid her any heed as her father rose from his seat, grabbed Colin, and dragged him across the table. The way the man set on the boy alarmed her. Colin got in a few good blows but one good punch to the head ended his fight. It did not stop her father, though. She raced to the man, grabbed him by the shoulders, and tried to pull him off Colin.
“I told ye to ne’er dig there. Ye wouldnae listen. Ye ne’er listen. Dinnae dig there!”
The boys ran to help her. Finally her father stood up. He shook himself, grabbed his cloak and hat, and walked out. Bethoc looked down at Colin and had to choke back a sob. He was a mess. Her father had never beaten Colin like this before. Instructing the boys to move him onto Kerr’s bed, she rushed to get what she would need to treat his wounds.
By the time she had bathed and bandaged his injuries, Colin was awake. “Why? Ye ken how he is. Why goad him? Why let him see how ye feel?”
“We worked so hard on those bushes but ne’er once neglected our other work. I couldnae see the harm.” He winced as he tried to move. “The mon took one look and went mad. Ripped the whole lot up, screaming at us the whole time.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Nay, it doesnae, does it. He has ne’er cared what we plant, ne’er done more than look and grunt. But, though he never gave us any compliment, he didnae complain, either.” Colin struggled to get up and Bethoc helped him, the other boys staying close by him once he was on his feet.
“Ye should go to bed, Colin,” she advised as, with Bean’s help, he started out the door.
“Nay, he is hiding something and I mean to find out what.” There was a mutter of agreement from the other boys and Bethoc quickly picked up Margaret and followed them.
