“Nonsense. Ye more than earned it wi’ the wondrous stories ye told. By my soul! I ha’ never heard the like.”
Anders MacMurtray was a big, bluff, hearty man scarcely a shade taller than Finlay himself, but two of him in bulk, with strong bones and shrewd blue eyes. His recent worries concerning the country’s current state of upheaval, no less than the loss of his son, had scoreddeep lines in a face that had once been handsome, and carried the remnants still. A widower he was, and said to be much sought after by the widows of the district.
“I am very glad ye enjoyed my tales, Chief MacMurtray.”
“Enjoyed? More than that, master harper—your tales lifted me fro’ mysel’. I felt as if I’d been on a long journey.”
“As are we all, chief.”
Anders smiled. “Ye will break your fast wi’ me.” He turned to the men who accompanied him, one of whom Finlay now recognized as his seneschal. “Ye will see to the lodging for the new arrivals? They should be here by this afternoon.”
“Aye, Chief MacMurtray.”
The men hurried off.
Politely, Finlay asked, “New arrivals?”
“Aye. We ha’ a troop o’ Gallowglass warriors comin’ in.”
“Gallowglass?” Legendary mercenaries they were, warriors supposedly without equal. What need might MacMurtray have for such?
MacMurtray hesitated. “They are fine warriors out for hire. Mostly fro’ Ireland, but they tak’ their ranks fro’ Scottish men too, who find themsel’s at loose ends.”
“Aye, Chief MacMurtray, I’m familiar wi’ them. But I do wonder at yer need for them.”
“Come, sit down.”
Anders led Finlay into the hall, still being cleared after last night’s feasting, which had run late. The room bustled. Maids hurried everywhere. A man raked out the fire, preparing to lay a fresh one.
Anders led Finlay to the head table where he’d sat last night. It had already been cleared.
“Sit, sit,” Anders told him. He called to one of the serving women. “Bring us plenty to eat, lass.”
So simple a command,bring us plenty to eat. Yet there had been times both when in Caradoc’s company and after whenplentyhadbeen beyond Finlay’s reach. When his stomach had been fair stuck to his backbone with emptiness.
He had always been assured of a welcome in Wales. But Scotland was where he needed to be. And at some of the land’s dingier keeps he’d been turned away with no more than a snarl, despite his hunger.
Now Anders looked at him across the table with those shrewd blue eyes. “Ye will ha’ heard about the death o’ my son, Geordie.”
“Aye, indeed, Chief MacMurtray. Ye ha’ my sympathy.”
“Geordie was as fine a son as a man could have. My wife—God rest her—gave me but the two bairns, a son and a daughter. But my Geordie was a lad of whom anyone would be proud.”
“How long past did ye lose him?”
“Ye mean to tell me ye donna ken? Ye seem to know more than I, o’ my family’s history.” Anders softened the words with a smile. “Ye’ve heard o’ Earl John Randolph, of Moray?”
“Aye, so. A staunch supporter o’ the king, is he no’?”
“I sent my son there into his service wi’ a number o’ our other warriors. The others came home, though he did no’. An accident on the practice field, it was said, and the others only returned carryin’ him. Aye, and well loved he was. The wailin’ o’ the women when he came home thus would fair hurt yer ears.”
“I see.” So, Katrin had lost her brother in an incident on the training field. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down Finlay’s spine. Truly and truly, the wheel of time did sometimes turn back upon itself.
“I lost my heir, and his only cousin dead also as a wee lad. There may be other members o’ the family far flung. If there are, I do not know o’ them. My daughter”—Anders paused again and scanned the room as if he expected to see Katrin there—“has nay agreed to tak’ a husband. A stubborn, headstrong lass she is, and has refused every man who has come her way till, as ye may ha’ noticed, she is well past the age o’ marrying.”
Was she? Katrin could not be above a score and six.
“So I ha’ nay grandson from her, to whom I might leave the holding. Geordie had nay issue either, being too busy wi’ training and fulfilling my obligations to tak’ a wife.”
