“Oh, Brian,” Arianna began, terrified that she had brought a true danger to his family.
Brian patted her hand, which was clenched into a white-knuckled fist on the table. “We kenned it might come to this, love.” He looked at his father and then at Ewan. “There is an army gathering?”
“Aye. A wee group of Frenchmen are gathering a large number of hired swords,” replied Sir Ewan. “I dinnae think many of the hirelings are verra skilled and probably willnae stand firm when faced with a hard fight. Have ye found out any more about the why of all this?”
As he ate, Brian told them everything he had learned. He also told them some of the questions he and Arianna still pondered and the possible answers they had come up with. As he talked it out with his brother and father, Brian could see it all more clearly. Arianna was right. There had to be more than a wee bit of land, Lucette’s need to be the heir, and the DeVeaux’s need for vengeance against the Murrays behind all of it.
“Aye, there is something ye dinnae ken,” said Sir Fingal. “That fool Lucette sounds a mon who might do all of this just to gain an inheritance. Wheesht, a mon who would kill his own blood, or want to, and then try to beat a wee lass to death will do most anything. There isnae enough there to make that Lord Ignace act this way, though.”
“Nay, there isnae,” agreed Sir Ewan. “Nay sure we will e’er ken what that reason is though, for if these fools attack Scarglas, they will die. Hard to get answers from dead men.”
“I still find it hard to believe that they sunk a ship just to try and kill two boys,” said Fiona.
“That was terrifying,” said Arianna, “and enough to get them hanged. Did Captain Tillet and his men heal?”
“Aye,” replied Fiona, “and they have already sailed for home. Nay certain if anything can or will be done about what happened to his ship, though.”
“I pray he is cautious for, if he points a finger at the DeVeaux with nay more proof than his word against theirs, he could find that his survival is a verra short-lived one.”
“Are they all so truly evil then?”
“Weel, I doubt there are many of that family who dinnae deserve a hanging.”
“Someone needs to cut away the rot like we did to the Grays,” said Sir Fingal.
“Aye, someone should,” Arianna agreed, “but it would take a long time and many a good mon would die in the doing of it. Right now all I care about is killing the ones who want to hurt my boys.”
“They willnae get those laddies. Ye dinnae need to worry on that.”
Arianna smiled at Sir Fingal. The determination weighing each word he said warmed her heart. The slow smile he gave her in return and the look in his eyes made her blush. She could easily see beyond the signs of age to the man who was able to seduce so many women. Then a scowling Mab elbowed him in the ribs and he frowned at his wife.
“Wheesht, Mab, I am truly wedded to ye but I am nay dead,” he said. “E’en with all that bruising on her wee face, she is a bonnie wee lass.” He winked at Arianna. “Pleased to see that my lad isnae as much like Ewan as he was pretending to be.”
Brian blushed, cursed, and ignored Arianna’s look of curiosity to glare at his father. “There was naught wrong with Ewan and ne’er was.”
“The mon was but a vow away from being a cursed monk,” snapped Sir Fingal. “It wasnae monly and ye were near as bad.”
“Da!” Ewan yelled, and slapped his hand on the table, making a sound so sharp and loud it drew the attention of everyone in the great hall. “We have a battle to plan. Ye can discuss Brian’s failings later.”
Brian glared at Ewan. “Thank ye.”
“Nay trouble. Now, Lady Arianna, we have sent word to your kinsmen. My son Ciaran and Kester, a lad from our cousin Liam’s keep, were sent out the moment your lads arrived and told us what was happening. We havenae gotten a reply yet but I expect one to arrive soon. We kenned who of your clan was the closest because Fiona and Liam’s wife, Keira, a cousin of yours, are forever writing to each other.”
Fiona frowned at her husband. “Ye make that sound like some crime.”
Ewan winked at her. “Just nay sure how ye can have so much to say to each other.”
“We both have husbands and children. There is always something to say when a lass has those.”
“She is telling tales about us, Ewan,” said Sir Fingal. “Think ye ought to put a stop to that.”
An argument started between Fiona and Sir Fingal but Arianna’s unease about that rapidly turned to amusement. She could see the glint of amusement in Sir Ewan’s eyes as well. It took only one look at Fiona to see that the woman was heartily enjoying herself. And so, Arianna realized, was Sir Fingal.
The argument soon veered off to one concerning what to do about the army that was being gathered by Amiel and the DeVeaux. Arianna wrestled with a crushing guilt over putting these people into the middle of her fight because she knew she would not change that even if she could. She also knew that Brian and his clan would not change it, either.
Arianna struggled to listen closely, even smiling at Sir Fingal’s insistence that they just ride out and kill the whole lot before they came to Scarglas, but her thoughts began to grow cloudy with exhaustion. It had not been a very long or arduous journey from Dubheidland to Scarglas but the fact that she was still healing from the injuries Amiel had inflicted on her had made it seem so. Her body was demanding more of the rest it needed to finish healing.
Before she could quietly ask to be excused so that she could seek that needed rest, Brian was doing it for her. He then called to a maid to escort her to their bedchamber. Arianna wanted to protest Brian’s arrogance, to remind him that she was a grown woman who needed no nursemaid, but the maid Joan was a big, sturdy woman who quickly, and somewhat forcefully, escorted her out of the great hall. Arianna decided she was just too tired to put up an efficient protest. She would let Brian taste her displeasure over such treatment later, after she had had enough sleep to sharpen her wits as well as her tongue.
