Why on earth was that man ever willin’ to marry her off to Lord Moore?
“Well, I just hope I can persuade her faither to accept me instead of whomever he has in mind,” Tam sighed and stepped away.
“Wait,” Erskine stood to his feet, following Tam for a moment. “That means ye will marry her?”
“Aye, I’m takin’ yer advice, Erskine,” Tam tossed the words over his shoulder. “That’s if she’ll have me. Let’s just hope me persuasive skills work well with her faither to give us his blessin’.”
“Good luck,” Erskine stopped following and called after him. Tam raised a hand in acknowledgment of hearing him before disappearing down the corridor.
The thought of persuading fathers lingered with Erskine as his feet took him down another hallway entirely. He had two fathers to persuade that a marriage between him and Laura would be in everyone’s best interests.
Let’s hope I can persuade them to believe me.
* * *
Erskine found his father in his study. The older man looked tired himself, leaning over the desk and staring at a map of the clan. As soon as Erskine opened the door, the Laird jumped to his feet, relief in his face.
The two men shared a firm handshake, and the Laird droned on for a minute about his relief to see him back. Erskine took a chair nearby, reclining back as he gave his father a full debrief of what had happened in the villages, including his suspicions that the brigands would attack again.
“Ye are certain?” Laird MacCallum said, leaning across the desk.
“Aye, I am,” Erskine nodded. “I’ve seen the signs before. They’re raiders, and they ken what they’re doin’. They live in the mountains of the next clan along. After their attack, they dinnae even try to go to the next villages on our roads. They retreated back to the mountains. They’re regroupin’. They may well attack the same villages again, but if I were to lay a wager on it, I’d say they could attack any village or town that’s near the border.”
“So Dearg and the other soldiers could be in the wrong place entirely?” Laird MacCallum summarized succinctly, tapping his fingers across the map.
“Aye, just so.” Erskine nodded. “Ye have a plan, faither?”
“Ideas,” the Laird looked back up to him with a smile, “but I’m intrigued to hear yer plan, laddie? Ye are to sit where I sit now someday, after all. What do ye think we should do?”
“Many things,” Erskine sighed before describing in detail his thoughts.
There were different elements to his plan, including setting up express messengers in every village and town that they thought could be a target. While they sent builders and masons into the attacked villages to rebuild with stronger materials, there had to be an effort to recover the cattle that were lost too. So, Erskine suggested a two-pronged attack. By separating the movable army into two, they could send some men into the mountains as scouts, searching for where they kept the thieves kept the cattle and where their bases were. The second half of the army would patrol the main routes down from the mountains in case the brigands tried to come in again. Once the scouts had found the brigands’ location, the two halves would gather for an attack, recover the cattle, and arrest the brigands.
“What do ye think?” Erskine asked eventually, seeing his faither had not said a word throughout his discussion of the plan.
Laird MacCallum was sat back in his chair, his hands steepled together in front of him on the desk.
“Aye, it is a good plan,” he smiled. “It both seeks to rectify the damage done, stops future attacks, and puts an end to the matter entirely. We’ll be strayin’ into the Douglas Clan, so I’ll write to the Laird and let him ken. Once he kens there are brigands in his land, he may well send men to help with the effort.” The Laird leaned forward and looked at the map of the mountains. “It is a large area to search. How long do ye reckon it would take to find them?”
“A couple of weeks perhaps,” Erskine sighed. “To find them and arrest them.”
“Good,” the Laird nodded. “In the meantime, the injured can be cared for here. Now,” the Laird pointed to him, “ye must sleep, Erskine before ye fall down from tiredness.”
“Aye.” Yet Erskine did not move from his seat. “Faither, there is another matter I need to speak to ye of. A matter that is entirely different to this one.”
“Is now the best time?” Laird MacCallum’s eyebrows knitted together.
Perhaps nae, but we must speak soon!
“It is a delicate matter,” Erskine said carefully. “We must speak soon about it.”
“Very well. Just so I ken,” the Laird shifted in his seat, “is this the kind of conversation we can conclude quickly, or would it take days of discussion?” The Laird’s mood was spiraling down. Erskine could recognize the signs of it all too well. His faither had gone to scratching his beard, a sure sign that he would be quick to anger.
“Days,” Erskine admitted honestly.
“Then we cannae discuss it now,” the Laird’s voice was firm. “There is much to do with these brigands. It will take a lot of preparation and our full focus. That’s what we must do in our position as Laird, laddie.” His faither gestured to him, narrowing his eyes further. “We put the people’s needs before our own. Understood?”
“Aye, faither, of course,” Erskine knew he was right. “Then in two weeks, when this matter is over. We can discuss it then?”
