“Well,” Iris said thoughtfully, “some say the druids built stones like that to speak with the stars. Others think they marked the graves of great warriors.”
Codie’s brows furrowed. “Which one do ye believe?”
Iris considered. “Perhaps both. Maybe they honored their warriors by settin’ their graves where the stars could watch over them.”
“That’s what I’ll do,” Codie said solemnly. “When I grow up, I’ll fight in battles like Faither, and when I die, I want a stone that touches the sky.”
Iris looked over at Elijah and saw him smile. “I’d rather ye live a long life and never see battle at all.”
He tilted his head, puzzled. “But then I’d never be a hero.”
“Ye already are,” Iris said softly.
Codie blinked, surprised, then smiled, a shy, pleased little smile that made her chest ache.
“Look!” Codie suddenly exclaimed as they crested a small hill. “Is that the village?”
Iris followed his pointing finger and gasped. Below them, the village of Kilmartin was transformed. What was normally a quietcollection of stone cottages and shops had become a riot of color and activity. Bright banners hung from every building, and the main square was packed with people.
“Sweet Maither of God,” she breathed, unconsciously echoing her reaction to seeing the castle for the first time.
The festival was enormous. Stalls lined every street, selling everything from fresh bread to woolen goods to hand-carved trinkets. Musicians played on street corners, their lively tunes mixing with the calls of merchants and the laughter of children. The smell of roasting meat and fresh pastries filled the air, making her mouth water.
“Fresh pies! Hot mutton pies!” a woman called from a nearby stall as they rode closer. “Best in the Highlands!”
“Ribbons and lace! Fine ribbons for yer bonniest lasses!” shouted another merchant.
“Come try yer luck at the ring toss! Win a prize for yer sweetheart!”
The noise was incredible, hundreds of voices all talking and laughing at once, creating a joyful cacophony that made Iris’s heart race with excitement.
“It’s so busy!” she said, having to raise her voice to be heard over the noise.
“Too busy,” Elijah replied grimly, his eyes scanning the crowd with obvious wariness. “This many people in one place... it’s askin’ for trouble.”
But Iris was enchanted. She watched a group of children dart between the stalls, their faces sticky with honey and their pockets full of festival treats. An old man sat on a stool playing the fiddle while his wife danced, her gray hair flying as she spun. Young couples strolled arm in arm, stopping to admire the various wares on display.
“Six apples for a penny! Sweetest apples in all of Scotland!” called a red-faced farmer.
“Fine wool spun fresh this mornin’! Perfect for winter cloaks!” added a woman with calloused hands and a warm smile.
“Can we look at everythin’?” Codie asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can we try the games? And taste the food?”
“We’ll see,” Iris said though she was already planning their route through the festival. There was so much to explore, so much to experience.
As they made their way toward the village center, Elijah’s voice cut through her planning. “Iris.”
She looked over at him, noting the serious expression on his face.
“Daenae let Codie out of yer sight,” he said firmly. “Nae for a moment. And stay close to me.”
“Of course.”
“I’m serious.” His eyes swept the crowd again, and she realized he was looking for threats, not enjoying the festive atmosphere. “This many people, this much confusion, it wouldnae be strange if someone attempted to rob us… or worse. We’re obvious targets.”
The warning sent a chill through her despite the warm afternoon air. She’d been so caught up in the excitement that she hadn’t considered the dangers. But looking at the crowd with new eyes, she could see what Elijah meant. There were plenty of faces she didn’t recognize, strangers who might see the laird’s family as opportunities rather than leaders to respect.
“I understand,” she said, her hand tightening protectively around Codie’s waist. “We’ll be careful.”
