The abbot grumbled but said nothing. After a short battle of eyes with Jock, he gave in, nodding his acceptance of the terms.
Jock dismissed them both, watching as his financier left with them, arm already around the abbot’s shoulder. Robin would smooth things over. That was his job.
Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he looked up to see the almoner looking pale. “Is it true, my laird?”
“Adrian. You look pale. What ails you?”
“Robin tells me there is nothing spare to give the paupers for the festival.”
“There should be plenty to spare. We still have twenty years of treaty with the king. With no taxes to pay we should have a fortune waiting to be handed out.”
“He says there is not a penny available to spare.”
Robin reappeared at the doorway. Jock beckoned him over. “Adrian tells me there is nothing for the paupers.”
“Aye, my laird. I thought we might discuss this matter in private?”
Jock waved an arm, dismissing the waiting petitioners. Adrian went with them, leaving Jock alone with his financier.
“Well?” Jock asked, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s this all about?”
“I regret, my laird, that funds have gone missing from the treasury.”
Jock exploded. “Gone missing? How can clan money simply go missing? It is kept under lock and key.”
“Please, my Laird. Keep your voice down, you will panic your people.”
“They will riot when they find out. Where has the money gone?”
“I dinnae ken.”
“You dinnae ken? Are you my financier or not.” A lead weight landed in the pit of Jock’s stomach. The summit with the king was coming up. “Have you forgotten I promised to lend the king substantial funds for his campaign against the English?”
“I ken, my laird.” Robin didn’t look anywhere near worried enough.
“How much has gone missing?”
“You have a quarter of what was there a month ago.”
“Three quarters of the clan’s wealth gone? How the devil has that happened?”
“I dinnae ken.”
Jock leaned close enough to Robin to see the whites of his eyes. The financier gulped when he pointed a finger at him. “You have until noon to find out where it’s gone or I will take your head before the king takes mine. Do you have any idea what he’ll do if I cannot lend him what I promised? My head will be on a spike and the clan will be cast out of the highlands.”
“You could fight him if it came to that.”
“Fight our king and all his armies? I am strong, Robin, but no man can take on a king’s army.”
Jock was up before Robin could say anything else, storming out of the great hall, speaking to no one in the corridor outside. They parted like waves before a warship, seeing the mood he was in.
He headed up his private staircase, shutting himself in his bedchamber before picking up his sword.
Be patient, Lachlan had told him, let the enemy come to you. He mulled on those words for a moment before anger rose up inside him. As it did so, he swung his sword, lunging for the training dummy.
He fought it until sweat poured down his body, all the while his mind whirling. Three quarters of the coin gone.
He thought about his parents. He had promised them he could do it, that he could protect the clan. That was just before their minds had started to go.
