Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ailis and theclan’s women gathered at the forest’s edge, bows in hand. Lachlan led the men in drills and sparring across the open field, their shouts and clashing swords faded sounds off in the distance.
“Keep yer wits about ye,” Ailis reminded her companions, aware of their duty to feed the growing number of people visiting their clan. As they advanced into the woods, she moved gracefully, scanning for game.
A sudden rustle signaled potential prey. Ailis raised her bow, aiming at a thicket where shadows danced. But as she loosed her arrow toward a darting rabbit, fate intervened. The arrow struck not the rabbit but a pheasant mid-flight. Feathers cascaded as it plummeted to the ground.
Despite their important task, the group broke out into laughter. “Seems our hands are guided to what wetrulyneed,” Ailis bubbled, mischief glinting in her eyes.
“Perhaps ’tis a sign that our endeavors will be fruitful,” replied one of the women with a wide smile.
Collecting their unexpected prize, gratitude swelled within Ailis—moments like these fueled her spirit for future challenges.
*
Ailis sat ona stool by the hearth. The door creaked open, revealing a breathless messenger.
“News from Laird Gordon.” He offered her a scroll.
Ailis read the message—terse words about their absence being noted and drunken confessions holding no weight. And a demand they return. Worried, she found Lachlan in the training yard, sword in hand.
“Our absence has been noticed,” she informed him. “Laird Gordon says drunken words mean nothing.” She shook her head. “I know Lucas was telling the truth while drunk though, and he wasn’t before then. Laird Gordon wants us to return.”
“I believe Lucas did tell the truth. We’re not returning. We were not treated well there. We must be vigilant,” Lachlan replied, his eyes like stormy seas.
Ailis nodded. “We’ll navigate this situation with care.”
As days melded into weeks, clans gathered and alliances formed. Ailis became central to whispered strategies and critical conversations. Their numbers swelled to a formidable force. Power and determination resonated within her.
Despite the burgeoning strength around her, Ailis bore responsibility’s heavy mantle. She knew on one level that the whole thing was not her fault, but as she was the one to uncover the plot, she bore some blame.
*
Ailis entered thecastle kitchen, greeted by the aroma of stewing herbs and root vegetables. Granny stirred a large pot near the hearth.
“Granny, how fair our provisions?” Ailis asked with concern. “Do we need to have more women fishing?”
“We are managing,” Granny replied. “But we must seek additional sustenance soon. We want to have meat tucked away for when the siege occurs. It may only last a few hours, but it’smore likely to take longer. We’ll have to feed all the women and children staying in the keep as well as the soldiers.”
“Then we shall hunt and harvest within Sinclair lands,” Ailis resolved. “I dinnae know how many of the Sinclairs came here when we offered sanctuary or how many are left, but there should be enough hunting to help us.”
The following day, Ailis and Moira led a procession beyond the castle walls. As men dispersed into the woods, women and children worked in the fields. Laughter filled the air, momentarily displacing thoughts of conflict.
A group of dirty children presented oddly shaped roots and stones to Ailis. One beamed as he held up a misshapen rock, exclaiming, “We’ve found dragon’s eggs!”
Moira chuckled beside her sister. “Indeed, but let’s hope they dinnae hatch before supper.” She winked at Ailis.
“We dinnae want to have to share our meal with the dragons!” Ailis smiled and played along. “Ye’ve done most wonderfully, me young dragon hunters. But today, let us gather nature’s bounty to fill our bellies instead of finding pets who could cook us and eat us.”
For a moment she felt badly, asking the children to help with the harvest instead of “treasure hunting,” but there were too many to feed for her to dwell on that. The work must be done, and it must be done quickly. There were so many things that must happen before they were ready for battle.
The children nodded enthusiastically and resumed their tasks, leaving Ailis and Moira sharing a knowing glance—a silent acknowledgment of small joys in the worst circumstances.
*
As dawn brokeover the moors, Ailis stood on the ramparts, her hair whipped by the wind. Below, soldiers from various clansmoved in unison, their drills reflecting newfound unity. The sounds of steel and exertion filled the air.
“Father,” Ailis called. Her father surveyed the men, his expression weighed down with responsibility. “I’ve seen these soldiers and observed their ways. Might I stand with them in battle?” She was a formidable warrior after all. Ailis believed she and her sisters could possibly turn the tide of the battle, as no one would expect women.
