“Then we’ll designate ye all as clan healers. I will teach ye what I ken of herb lore and such, which isna much, I fear, but it may be new to ye. But we need more—a real healer to train ye.”
“I am glad yer marriage allied us with the clans that were problems under Donas, like Munro. I dinna ken what I wouldha done for battle-wounded men. We’ve nay had terrible injuries since the healer left. I am no’ prepared to deal with them.”
That gave Fiona cold chills. The men were cutting down trees. Anything could happen, from cuts to being crushed under a falling tree. She fought down a shudder and listened as Cara talked about Ross and its former enemies. Her mention of Munro reminded Fiona that a Munro lass remained in Ross, so she asked about her.
“Aye, Tira. Married to Teague. She wasna happy about it at first, and less so when her two friends who came with her ended up leaving. But she seems to have accepted her husband and her place here.”
“What does she do?”
“Mostly, take care of Teague. She was close to Silas, and he to Donas, but they dinna seem to mind that Erik is now laird. She used to do Silas’ bidding, whatever that was on any given day. Now, I dinna ken.”
“Can she cook? Could she?—”
Cara laughed and shook her head. “Nay, that I ken for certain. She and Cook dinna get along at all. I wouldna want the two of them together with blades in hand. One or both wouldna make it out of the cot alive.”
Fiona chuckled. “I willna suggest she spend time doing that. Tell me, do the men do most of the fishing?”
“In the boats out on the firth, aye. With lines near to shore, both lads and lasses, even young ones, do that. And gather shellfish, too.”
“How often do they do that?”
“Silas had them harvesting every two or three days. No’ every day. Some days there’s venison or a stew, other days fish or a fish stew, other days shellfish and such, or pork of some kind. Wild pig or boar. Coney. The forest and the sea provide for us.”
“I can see I need to spend more time with Cook. There are many more questions I must ask him. Such as, who makes butter and cheese? I havena seen any cows.”
“Most roam the hills, but a few are kept closer for their milk. And Erik made the men build pens for the chickens and ducks we keep for eggs and meat. They used to have the run of the village, and into the cots. They made quite a mess. ’Tis better they’re kept away.”
Fiona frowned to herself. What else had she failed to notice about the village? True, she’d been here only four days, but some things were so basic, she’d taken them for granted. If she wanted to be taken seriously in her duty as lady of the clan, she must not keep making that mistake. And she needed to have another conversation with Cook right away about the animal husbandry of the clan. Who gathered eggs? Cows had to be milked every day. Who made butter and cheese? The clan had bread and ale and cider. Where were the fields of oats and barley? The apple trees? These were all things the clan’s lady should know. Because of the MacBean betrothal, Mary had shared much withher before she left for Inverness. There, she’d been grateful for the training she’d received. It helped her to run Arabella’s household. Though her charge’s home was much smaller than a clan’s keep, many of the same tasks and concerns applied, just as they would here.
“Ye have given me much to think about. I thank ye for that. Do ye think there is any chance that I could entice the former Ross healer to return?”
“I dinna think so. She left on bad terms with most of the elders.”
“Then I will find out if one of our allied clans can spare a healer to come here and train ye and any others who would like to learn.”
“That would be wonderful,” Cara said. “Thank ye. The sooner the better, of course, and training several of us would mean we could care for more and share experiences as time goes on.”
“Exactly.”
Erik walkedwith Tormod toward the area where the men were already back at work. They’d been delayed by Cook as they left the midday meal, checking with them about plans for bringing the cattle down out of the hills behind them for the winter. Erik hadn’t yet considered it time to move them out of the coming cold at higher elevations, and the reminder irritated him. It was one more thing that must be done, but that would slow work on the defensive wall he wanted built.
“I ken ye had hopes,” Tormod told him as they passed under towering pines and by leafy trees, some showing color and some already bare of branch, “that when ye returned from Rose with yer new bride, the people of Ross would be pleased.”
“With Fiona? Aye, of course.”
“And with ye, so that they would take on the tasks ye set for them. They would believe in what ye and Fiona would do to make their lives better.”
“Aye, of course. I had, but nay longer. The glacial pace of work on the wall sets my teeth on edge.” Erik fought constant battles with himself to keep from berating the men, threatening dire consequences if they did not do as he directed as fast or faster than he wanted it. “We dinna have enough manpower for all the things Ross needs. The curtain wall, the hall, larger, warmer homes for its people, stables, pens for animals—the list is endless.”
And every day, Fiona added to it.
On top of that, she wanted to steal some of his men whose wives had revealed other skills their men had—a brewer, a metal worker, a mason, and more. To do jobs for which they lacked the tools. They had no smithy. That would be hardest to come by. A mason would be useful, but this man had no experience on large projects such as a curtain wall. He’d built kitchen hearths and shored up collapsing walls of poorly-built cottages.
“Mayhap we should have been stealing craftsmen, no’ brides, these past few years,” Tormod remarked.
Erik took it as only half in jest. “We had men from other clans join Ross under Donas. He made them soldiers, and when they werena fighting, they became lazy drunks.” Erik understood why their wives wanted them put to work. But it was obvious that many had become spoiled by sloth. His insistence on building the wall was not making him popular. Morale among the men fell faster the more their laird demanded real labor. The only exception to that seemed to be when they were fishing or hunting.
And now, Fiona had decided he must lend her four of his men to escort her and the Ross cook to Inverness. To go shoppingfor supplies they might need during the winter. How had they gotten by every other winter of his life? How did she propose to pay the merchants she expected to buy from? And what were they supposed to eat while Cook was away? Ah, of course, he now had a helper…two, in fact. A lass and a lad to train with him. Would they manage to poison the entire clan while Cook was away?
