It was their way of surviving, and it was a harsh reminder of what would happen if Gawain's clan was to become weak.
Thankfully, the clan had money, an outrageous amount if Gawain thought about the gold coins the villagers claim to pay the keep. He knew merchants who could get them food from the lowlands. Gawain was certain he could come back just enough to feed them all if his brother would allow him to lead the expedition.
The main question now was if Caillen could trust him that much. Gawain knew Caillen did not trust him as much as he trusted Hector, and it hurt when he thought about it. Gawain had almost been killed but got brushed aside when he reported it to Caillen, but when Hector went through a similar experience, Caillen had probably not closed his eyes to sleep ever since Hector was carried in. If Caillen did not trust his word enough to help him find who had thrown the pot from the window, what was the assurance that Caillen would trust him with that much money for food.
It did not matter, though, as they had to do anything possible to get their hands on enough food to last them for winter or they were doomed.
Chapter Twenty-One
On returning to the keep, Gawain was surprised at the small gathering of men led by Erin that awaited his return at the training grounds. Hopping down from his mare, he gave her a thankful ruffle of her coat before Hansel led both horses away. "Has me execution finally been announced, and ye’ve been sent to fetch me?" Gawain turned to the group of men, counting their heads to arrive at a total of twenty and six men.
"There is nae such thing, Sir Gawain." One of the men stepped forward, Gawain vaguely recognized him. He was older than Gawain, it showed in the wrinkles that had started to form on his face, but his body was just as fit as any soldier. "Do ye remember me, sir? I was one of the men ye last trained."
"Nae so much, but it is something. Since Erin and Boris are with ye, ye must be the ones who want to join me regiment?" A chorus of aye ran through the men. Gawain properly assessed them. The majority, about fifteen were younger men he did not quite recognize, the rest were faces he knew but could not remember everything about them. Amongst those he remembered, he had five older men while the rest were around his age.
Gawain slipped inside the group, eyeing each man from head to toe. He was in need of men, but that did not mean he would settle for less. Raising his hand to point at a younger man at the back of the group.
"Thank ye fer coming, but ye will nae longer be needed." The man tried to argue, but Gawain was already fishing out other men. By the time he was done, Gawain had sent off seven of the young men. He came to a stop in front of the older men who had spoken to him first. "Ye are fit but can ye take me dagger from me?"
"Excuse me?"
"Draw me dagger from me. I’ll nae move from this spot" The man looked down at the dagger then back at Gawain before suddenly reaching for the dagger, but his hand was grabbed by Gawain, who held it in a painful grip. "Charging straight ahead is stupid. Ye should ken this if I trained ye. Ye may leave." The man sucked in a breath before bowing his head and leaving.
Gawain stopped in front of another man, this one seemingly the same age as Gawain. "Take me dagger from me. Tackle me if ye need to." The man nodded, taking a few steps backward before reaching for the dagger but when Gawain went out to stop him, he grabbed Gawain's hand instead, swiftly turning him around with his hand pressed at an odd angle behind his back. As he reached for the dagger, Gawain dropped low enough for the man to release him while his second hand shielded the dagger, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yer opponent will have more than one hand. Securing one doesnae mean he will nae use the other. Ye may stay." Gawain took his stance in front of another man. "Take me dagger from me. Feel free to use any weapon."
This continued until Gawain was satisfied, and only two more men had been sent off, leaving him with sixteen men and Hansel still by his side. The men were drenched in sweat, and a few who Gawain had slammed to the ground covered in dust, all drained with the task given to them by the new leader. Gawain simply beamed at them as he stood tall and almost unaffected.
"Aye, ye all will do fer now. Give me yer names so I can have Caillen extract ye from Hector's regiment to mine. Have them down in a parchment and Hansel come find me and bring it to me. I’m exhausted and about to pass out."
"Ye have nae even broken a sweat." One of the men grumbled earning a chuckle from Gawain.
"I’ve nothing left to say to ye. Ye should ken the basic rules, it is the same as yer previous commander's. It doesnae matter who it is, ye must always put the villagers first. First, the villagers, then the laird and his family, then yerselves before ye think about me. Always report anything to me and if ye cannae find me, report to Hansel. He'll find me. Do nae think that because ye’re guarding the village that yer work is now easy. If anything, it is harder. It is yer job to stop or hold off anything ranging from a raid or a simple theft. The peace of the villagers depends on ye. Our business is our business, if ye open her mouth to tell anyone else something that we have planned, I’ll cut yer lips off. And under nae circumstance should ye go against me order or betray me. If ye do, I’ll find ye, and I’ll punish ye, and ye will nae like it one bit, am I understood?" Gawain nodded at the chorus of aye once more before he dismissed his men and headed back into the keep to report his progress so far and also talk some sense into his brother if he could.
On getting to his brother's study, Gawain found Caillen hunched over his desk, trembling slightly as he looked down at the parchment of paper in front of him. "Ye are back, Gawain. That was earlier than I expected." Caillen's voice was groggy, his words slurred.
"Have ye eaten lunch?"
"Nae."
"Did ye eat breakfast yet?"
"Nae. I’ve so much to do, Gawain. When I get me hands on the bastard that started all of this…" Caillen let out an angry yell before slamming his fist down on the table. Gawain watched, unaffected by his brother's outburst.
"What is the matter?"
"And if I tell ye what can ye do to help? Nae even Scott can help! The bastard left to check on his wife and never came back!" Gawain sighed, pulling out an empty chair from the front of Caillen's desk and took a seat which he leaned back into until his head rested on the back of it.
"Since ye want to throw a tantrum, I'll just wait until ye tire yerself out. Ye'll settle down when nae none pays ye attention. Ye always do. Just do nae throw anything at me. I'll fling it right back. Why are yer chairs so uncomfortable?"
"Gawain, do nae test me. I’m nae in the mood!"
"Neither am I, brother. I want to sleep. I’m extremely tired from galloping about in the sun, and I’ve brought back complaints by yer people. All I want to do is dump that in front of ye and retire for the day. Ye throwing a tantrum and refusing to tell me what the matter is, that is a wee childish even fer ye, Caillen."
"Hector is unable to perform his duties, and ye want to sleep? I thought ye wanted to be the second in command."
"Nae that I’m gloating, but I do like to stroke me own ego. The three of us ken I would make a better second in command, and since I’ve been made the third in command, I’ve me own duties to focus on. Let yer beloved Hector get up and get to work. If ye want to continue yelling at me, perhaps I should come back another time and lay down yer people's complaints? Or ye could swallow yet another insult and instead tell me what the matter is and let's see if I can help. I trained fer this, remember. I can use what I ken to assist ye."
Caillen scoffed, leaning back in his seat, still not taking his annoyed gaze off his brother. "Of course, I remember. How could I ever forget when that is basically all ye talk about. How better ye would be as the laird of the clan. How better ye would be as the right-hand man of the clan. With how much ye shout it in our ears, I doubt anyone would have forgotten."
