“Yes, there’s been quite a bit of expansion since you left. The building to the right is a rest area for the laborers to use when the tide is up and they can’t work. People who don’t live close enough to go home until the tide falls again can stay in the shelter and warm themselves by the fire, make tea, and nap or play cards.”
Surprised, Ramsay said, “How enlightened of Roald.”
“The old laird suggested it to Roald rather strongly,” Signy said. “I believe he offered to suspend certain taxes for a year as an encouragement to build the rest shed.”
Ramsay wasn’t surprised to hear that. His grandfather had always tried to improve the lives of Thorsayians. “Good for the laird. Gathering kelp is demanding work.”
“Harvesting is mostly done in the high summer when the daylight lasts seventeen or eighteen hours, but the work is very intense. Some people get up in the middle of the night to cut the kelp during early low tides.” Signy shaded her eyes with one hand while she studied the people harvesting the seaweed. “The tide is coming in fast, so they’ll have to quit soon and wait for it to go out again.”
“Time to go down and say hello.” Ramsay set Thor in motion along the track that led down to the works.
“Does Roald spend much time here?” he asked as they headed down.
“A couple of days a week, I think,” she replied. “Axel spends time here as well.”
“I would have thought the kelp works were not his style,” Ramsay said dryly.
“My guess is that he hates the place but knows where the family money comes from,” she said with equal dryness. “There’s a general manager, Mr. Drummond, under Roald and Axel. He supervises all the day-to-day work and is very capable.” She pointed to the right. “You can just see the roofs of his house over there. It’s set back from the sea as protection from the winds.”
As they approached the works, Ramsay saw that the people who tended the kilns stood upwind to avoid the smoke and stench. At least they were warm, unlike the workers in the water.
Ramsay and Signy dismounted by the office building. Looking a little wary, Axel emerged with a broadly built older man behind him. “Hello, Cousin,” Axel said. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I’m reacquainting myself with the islands,” Ramsay said pleasantly as he offered his hand. “Since your kelp works are one of the most important businesses in Thorsay, this seemed a reasonable place to start.”
Signy greeted the older man. “Mr. Drummond, it’s good to see you. Have you met Kai Ramsay, the new laird?”
“Nay, I saw him from a distance at his granddad’s funeral, but we haven’t met properly.” Drummond shook Ramsay’s hand, his gaze direct as they exchanged greetings. “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a grand laird, and he’ll be missed.”
“Indeed he will. I’ve much to learn as his successor.”
“Will you come into the office and have a cup of tea with us?” the manager asked.
“We’d like that,” Signy said warmly.
“Just a moment.” Drummond glanced out at the water. “Time to call people in.” Raising his voice, he bellowed, “Come ashore before the tide takes you away!”
Hearing the call, most of the workers began moving toward shore, dripping with water and laden with cut kelp. They were coming none too soon because a powerful current was building between the islet and the shore, pushing the workers to the right.
A few workers lingered to cut a little more. Drummond muttered a curse under his breath. “There’s always a couple who stay out longer to get a larger load and earn that bit of extra money.”
Signy said sharply, “Someone’s in trouble!”
Ramsay’s eyes narrowed as he saw the person farthest from the shore. A small female, he thought, and she was clearly having trouble keeping her footing.
A sudden surge swept her off her feet, and the current caught her. She gave a strangled cry, and others turned to look. One man started splashing toward her. “Tilda!Tilda!”
Another man grabbed his arm to keep him from risking his own life. The current was increasing with vicious force, and few islanders were strong swimmers.
Ramsay was an exception. Swearing, he bolted along the shore, dragging off his coat and boots as he estimated where he might be able to intercept the struggling girl. He launched himself into the cold water with a flat dive and drove forward with powerful strokes. Thank God he’d grown up swimming in these northern waters.
The girl’s head disappeared briefly, then reappeared again. She tried to scream, swallowed water, and began to cough convulsively. “Hang on, Tilda!” Ramsay called out to her. “I’m coming!”
She heard his voice and looked up desperately, but she was losing her battle to stay afloat. Ramsay swam harder, afraid that she was being pulled away so quickly that he might miss her.
With one last spurt of strength, he reached the girl and caught one of her flailing arms. She grabbed at him and they both went under, but she was clear-headed enough to realize that she risked both of their lives. She loosened her grip, and he managed to get both their heads above water.
“Good girl, Tilda! Now lie on your back and let me tow you ashore.” As she obeyed, he looped his left arm across her thin chest and began heading toward the beach, stroking with his right arm and kicking.
