He sighed heavily as he placed his face in his hands, shutting his eyes tightly as though he could make the problem disappear. Everything was beginning to feel like a waking nightmare to him.
“Sabotage is our best guess,” Bailey replied, “The ground is scorched – someone had tae have set the fields on fire, Laird. The ground is scorched; we cannae plant on them for years tae come, the farmers said. I’m so sorry tae bring ye such bad news.”
“It isnae yer fault, Bailey. Ye don’t control wha’ others dae, dae ye?” Kieran said, after he had used every expletive in his vocabulary.
Bailey shook his head mutely, his face as white as milk. Kieran would have found it hilarious that his friend could be so shocked at his foul language if it were not for the severity of the situation.
“I think it’s time,” Kieran said softly, staring at nothing in particular while his mind ran at full speed.
“Time for wha’?” Bailey said, his forehead scrunched up.
“Time tae meet our new neighbor,” Kieran answered, clenching and unclenching his hand.
“The new English lord, ye mean?”
“Aye. Those men in the forest were Englishmen. We’ve no’ had any trouble with anyone from England for the last few years. The last time I remember was in 1718 – when Eoghan was robbed an’ murdered by those bandits. Ye remember?”
Bailey nodded, frowning slightly.
“Ye think these incidents have something tae dae with the new lord, then?” Bailey asked.
Kieran nodded. “He has tae ken something, surely? He brought his troops with him from the South. He hasn’t been here more than a month at this point, an’ we’ve already been attacked twice, as such.”
“Ye could be right, Kieran. But there’s no way tae prove he kens anythin’. He could just lie straight out – why should he answer the likes o’ ye? Yer less than dirt tae him, I’ll wager ye that.”
“That might be so, but I’m still the Laird around here. He either kens something, or he ordered the attacks himself. One way or the other, he’s the one I need tae speak tae. There’s naething in that forest that is o’ any use.” Kieran shook his head in consternation; this situation made no sense to him, no matter which angle he looked at it from.
He wondered what this new lord thought he would gain by ordering an attack on the MacBride clan – was he promised their land if he took it by force, by order of King George? Or was he just a noble with an inbred hatred for the Scottish?
Kieran considered what it would mean if the lord did not order the attacks but knew of them regardless. Did he have such a tenuous grip on his army that they did as they pleased without the threat of punishment? Or did he just not care what they did?
Either way, the man had to know something.
“I’ll need ye tae come with me, Bailey. An’ please call a few o’ the soldiers tae join us. I don’t want tae appear tae be trying tae insult or coerce the man with force, but we cannae go there unprotected, either.”
Bailey nodded and said, “I’ll dae so, Laird. We’ll be ready with the hour.”
True to his word, Bailey had the men ready an hour later. They rode to the castle the new English lord had taken up residence in at decent canter for most of the way. By the time they reached the castle, the sun was slowly making its descent towards sunset.
It was an imposing castle, Kieran had to admit. Encircled by a moat, the outer walls rose up into the sky, towering above even the tallest trees around it. The drawbridge was down, with soldiers posted at the entrance to the castle itself, all of them armed fully. He could see archers in several of the slits in the walls; he could feel their stares as they came closer to the entrance to the entrance to the castle.
This lord clearly had no faith in the Scottish – he was prepared for nothing short of an attack on the castle.
Kieran and his men were stopped at the gate by one of the soldiers, dressed in a brand new, well-pressed uniform, his expression dark and mistrusting. This new lord had spared no expenses – he seemed to be there to make a show of the power of the English crown. Kieran had seen that look all too often – there would be no heartfelt welcome here. Soldiers followed their leader's attitude, and this leader clearly had no positive opinion when it came to the people whose country this truly was.
“What is your business here?” the soldier asked, crossing his arms across his chest. On either side of the main gate, the guards were inching their hands towards their weapons, trying to look nonchalant as they did so. But their eyes never left the small group of men Kieran had brought with him. He sighed to himself; there would never be trust between their people if the intolerance and hatred towards each other did not find a resolution of peace.
“I’m here tae see the new lord o’ the castle, sir,” he replied, trying to keep his voice as amicable as possible.
“Is Lord Stone expecting you?” the guard raised his eyebrow.
“Nae.” Kieran shook his head. “But I have urgent business tae discuss with him.”
“Do you?” the guard replied, his smile most certainly did not each his eyes, “Your name, sir?”
“I am Laird Kieran MacBride. These parts belong tae my clan for the most part.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll send a message to the castle,” the soldier shrugged, turned around and ordered one of his men to relay the message.
