Caillen turned round from the fire; a fierce look was on his face.
“If the enemy tries to board me ship, Gawain, me crew are authorized to gut every last mother’s son o’ them! I might hide me anger at the state of things behind a cheerful smile, but I swear to ye, brither when I find the one who has chosen to ally themselves to the Sutherlands while taking the hospitality and kindness of the Maclachlan clan,-albeit we cannae see their false smiles and tokens of friendship right now, but when we do-they will swing from the nearest flagpole!”
Gawain stared at his brother as though seeing him for the first time in his true light, “Indeed, Caillen, I feel as strongly as ye do, but ‘tis still early for ye to be talking about swinging from flag poles when ye have nae even caught the man.”
Caillen sat down at his desk again, “It may be a woman, so dinnae let yer guard down there either. The only lass I hold free from all suspicion is the kitchen maid who had so much to say about me last night. She arrived here after all this trickery began, so she is the only person at the keep I ken to be true and faithful. Everyone else falls under suspicion.”
“It doesnae sound like she wanted to be true an’ faithful to ye last night,” Gawain said.
The two men were interrupted by the soft scratching of a page at the door.
At his command to enter, the young boy opened the door and stuck his head around the edge, “Please it, yer Lairdship, but a messenger has come askin’ for ye at the gate.”
“Send him up,” Caillen said and then turned to his brother, “this is likely to be some message of thanks for the feast or congratulations for me recent appointment as Laird. Do ye really wish to stay here and bore yerself with it?”
Gawain grinned cheekily, “I’m grateful the task of writing letters of thanks falls to ye, Cai, and nae to me, but if it’s all the same to ye, I’ll stand by and watch ye work a bit if ye dinnae mind.”
Caillen shrugged his shoulders. It was strange for him to be the one working with his head buried in papers instead of his younger brother. He had to admit to himself, though, the burning question of who was betraying in the castle was a mystery worth solving. It made him feel like a hound on the hunt for a very crafty fox.
The page had left the door open, and the messenger walked up to the desk a few minutes later. He held a smudged and folded parchment in his hands,
“From Chieftain Lochart of Arisaig Lodge, yer Lairdship,” he said and stood back from the desk in the middle of the room while Caillen broke the seal open.
Caillen scanned the sheet of parchment and looked at the messenger, “I will reply to this in person. Wait for me to saddle a horse. I will ride back with ye now.”
“What is it, Cai?” Gawain saw the grim look on his brother’s face, “what does the message say?”
Caillen was locking the newly bolted desk drawers with a heavy padlock and pocketing the key, but looked up to answer his brother, “The thing is Gawain, ye might drink too much or sleep with one of the maids, and we both ken those are the perfect scenarios where secrets are unwittingly told. Me business with Arisaig Lodge is me own.”
Caillen went to the fireplace, threw the message he had just received into the flames, and watched it burn to a cinder. When he was satisfied the paper was gone, he strode out of the library with the messenger following behind him.
It did not take long for the two men to reach the Lochart clan lodge. They were a small clan of no more than two dozen families, but the small dell where they had built their village and farms was only a few hills south of Maclachlan keep. Arisaig Lodge had been a staunch ally of the Maclachlan’s since Caillen could remember. He knew his way to the great hall and told the messenger to take his horse to the stables for food and water before making his way up to the lodge. He could remember his father bringing him and Gawain here for Holy day cheer.
He waited politely at the gate for the sentry announced him. It was a while before the sentry returned and told him to follow behind. Chieftain Lochart was standing on the dais at the end of the hall, and he stepped forward to welcome Caillen back to the Highlands. He looked slightly uncomfortable when he did so, however, as he knew the reason for Caillen’s abrupt visit.
“I thank ye most kindly for yer warm greeting, Angus,” Caillen said calmly after the chieftain had sat back down on his armchair, “yer recent message, though, I dinnae find as welcome. I came here to check for meself, in case ye’d gotten yer facts wrong. Are ye closing a trading agreement with the Sutherlands?”
Chieftain Lochart hedged a bit, “I was nae at the feast last night, ye ken, Caillen, because me wife was assisting with another bairn’s birthing..., women bein’ necessary during these times...,”
His voice trailed off. He’d hoped his message would have been received by the old Laird, who would have shrugged his shoulders and sighed with worry but accepted the words it contained. To have Caillen descend upon him unannounced, demanding an explanation was not at all to Chieftain Lochart’s liking.
“I neither ken nor care what kept ye from the feast, Angus, and if the bairn came into the world healthy, I am happy for the clan, but why have ye decided to pay the Sutherlands for the use of their ports after dealing with us in these matters for dozens of years?”
Chieftain Lochart shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “They offered me a better deal, Caillen, and ye ken I’ve always been the man to enjoy saving a penny or two here and there when I can.”
“Why did ye nae come and ask the Maclachlan’s to match the offer then?” Caillen was relentless in his pursuit of the Lochart clan’s change in allegiance.
“Och, well now, Cai,” Chieftain Lochart could assert himself with the truth here, “Yer faither has been letting things slide since his health got worse, and even though I wish him all the best in his recovery, I like to do me business with a man of action, when all’s said an’ done.”
Caillen stepped back a few paces and pointed his thumbs toward his chest, “And what d’ye see here, Angus?”
“I see a man of action, Cai, I’ll nae lie to ye,” Chieftain Lochart was a penny-pinching man, but he also knew when he was beaten in an argument.
“I’ll match the offer the Sutherlands gave ye, Angus, and lower the yearly fee by another pound. But I want yer oath ye’ll nae side with our northern enemies again or have dealings with anyone who ally themselves to the Sutherlands.”
Chieftain Lochart’s eyes widened at this generous offer. Now it was his turn to give thanks, “Aye, Cai, that’s very open-handed of ye. I’ll nae be signing that agreement with the Sutherlands after all!”
Caillen stepped forward and clasped the chieftain’s forearm to show their bond. Chieftain Lochart did the same.
