10
“Why canna we go? Jaime’s going,” Manus grumbled, and Rath nodded.
“We shall be very, very good,” Sibeal promised.
“I am sure ye will be, but ye must stay here,” Alexander said, his voice firm as he helped Ailis mount.
Ailis looked at her nephews and niece. They ached to get away from the confines of Rathmor, and she dearly wanted to grant them their wish, but she also knew that Alexander was right to make them stay behind. She questioned the sense of their own journey, but Alexander was determined. He said they would be married by a priest, and the day she had told him of her pregnancy, he had sent out riders to find one. After nearly a week of inquiries, they had finally located a priest, but the man had suffered a broken foot in a strange accident, and so they would have to travel to him. Ailis had a bad feeling about their journey, but Alexander was in no mood to heed her.
“I truly, truly, truly want to go, Aunt,” Sibeal said.
“Well, I fear I must say nay, loving. Dinna forget that there are people who would like to take ye away from your father.” She gave Barra a brief smile as he stepped up behind his children. “When the danger is finally past, I am sure he will let ye run quite wild.”
Sibeal took her father’s hand in hers and stared at her aunt. “ ‘Ware the chickens.”
“Pardon, dearling?” Ailis was slowly becoming used to the odd things Sibeal often said, but thought that this was particularly strange.
“Just be careful of the chickens.”
“Aye, I will.” Ailis looked at Alexander. “Shall we be on our way?”
The men gathered around the inner bailey were eyeing little Sibeal warily, and Ailis decided it was best to at least agree to whatever the child said. She did not like the attention brought to bear upon Sibeal’s unusual skill. Although she still had no idea what Sibeal had been talking about, Ailis did not want to keep discussing it out in the bailey with so many people listening. It troubled Ailis, however, when she waved farewell to the children as Alexander’s small party rode out of Rathmor. Sibeal had that intently solemn look on her sweet face that always made Ailis nervous. The child had been trying to warn her, had clearly had some premonition. Ailis swore to herself that she would be extra vigilant.
In the group that would ride the ten miles to the tiny village where the priest lay recovering from his injury were only six others beside herself. Ailis wondered if Alexander, Jaime, and Angus plus three men-at-arms was really enough protection. Sibeal’s warnings could be for simple things, but they could also be warnings of larger events with dire consequences. The group had been kept small to avoid drawing too much attention to themselves and to allow for a great mobility if they had to race back to the safety of Rathmor. It was a lot easier for seven people to flee and hide then for twenty or more to do so. Rathmor and the children also needed to be protected. Ailis understood and agreed with all of that, but she began to wish that she could convince Alexander to wait at Rathmor until the priest was healed and could come to them. The warning of a five-year-old child was not enough to accomplish that.
Alexander rode up beside her and watched her for a moment before saying, “Ye look worried.”
“We both have enemies.”
“I have enemies. Ye have your kinsmen and your betrothed.”
“Who will act very much like my enemies if they catch me. Aye, and especially if they guess that I am with child by ye. I shudder to think of how Donald will take such news, and I would rather not be with the man when he does learn of all this.”
“Is that why ye chose to wed me?”
“Oh, aye, and such a fine choice I was given,” she muttered, then nodded. “ ‘Twas certainly part of the reason I accepted your proposal.” She met his wry glance with a sweet smile, almost daring him to deny her talk of a proposal. “At least ye willna take your fury out on a wee bairn despite how quick ye are to blame the blameless.”
“Blameless, are ye?”
“Well? What have I done to ye save to be born a MacFarlane? And I challenge ye to show me how I can be faulted for that.” She knew he would ignore the challenge just as he had every time she had made it, but it was interesting to see a glint of humor in his eyes, for that was new. Unfortunately, it was also fleeting.
“What was Sibeal talking about when she said that ye must beware the chickens?” He could tell by the look on Ailis’s face that she understood why he had made that abrupt change of subject, but her insight was beginning to irritate him less and less. “Is the child afraid of chickens?”
“Nay, she wasna referring to some fear she has. She was warning me.”
“About chickens?”
Ailis heartily wished he had directed their conversation to something other than Sibeal’s parting words. She was not comfortable with the child’s premonitions. Alexander certainly was not comfortable with them and would question any implication that the child would have such things. It was not a discussion she wanted to get into. Her growing knowledge of Sibeal’s abilities would make her defend them, and that was certain to irritate Alexander.
“Aye, about chickens,” she grumbled.
“What could she possibly believe chickens could do to ye?”
“Chickens willna do anything to me.” She took a deep breath and readied herself to say things she knew would annoy him. “There will be something about chickens to warn me that a threat is at hand, ‘tis all. I will see them or hear them or it could be that someone will mention them. Why, it could be that the danger will strike whilst I am dining on chicken.”
“So, ye must be alert each time ye hear, see, smell, or eventastea chicken? Do I have that right?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “Aye, ‘tis something about a chicken I must pay heed to.”
