Highland Master by Hannah Howell Read Free Book Online Page B

the old, and the completely untrained?”
    “But if they didnae go to France, where are they? Ye dinnae think the mon had them all slaughtered, do ye?”
    “I dinnae ken. It may be naught and I have just let my mind weave wild tales, but I just cannae shake the feeling that all is nay as it appears.”
    “Another matter to look into,” Callum said.
    “Nay sure how to do that, but, aye, it should be looked at most carefully,” agreed Brett, and then he yawned.
    “I think it best if we catch a few more hours of rest, too,” said Harcourt as he stood up. “If naught else there are men to start training, and from what I have seen, that will take all the strength we have.”
    Brett laughed as he followed his brother out of the great hall, Uven, Callum, and Tamhas coming after them. He briefly wondered if he was right to think it was safe for Arianna at Banuilt and then shook aside his concern. Sir John had not spilled blood in almost two years. He doubted the man would start now. He wanted capitulation, and he did not want to anger their liege laird, an obvious ally, by trying to steal Banuilt by force. The man probably also saw the keeping of the people who worked the land hale and ready to begin working to his advantage when he took hold of Banuilt.
    Proof of the man’s crimes was needed. That was what they had to work toward as they helped Lady Triona keep Sir John’s vicious little games from bringing Banuilt down. With proof, she or some representative of her choosing could go to their liege laird and demand justice. It would be easier to just kill the fool, but Brett decided watching the man brought down would be almost as satisfying. He fully intended to show Sir John Grant that sometimes giving in to greed could lose a man everything he had.

Chapter Four
    “This weaving is beautiful, Joan.”
    Triona stroked the wool cloth Joan held out for her to study. Joan was an excellent weaver, her work much coveted at the marketplaces in the larger towns. The shearing had been good last year and looked to be even better this year, if all continued to go well. Soon they would not only have enough wool for all of Banuilt’s needs but a goodly amount to take to market as well. It was one of the few things that had not yet suffered from Sir John’s continued attempts to beggar them. It might even prove enough to make up for all he had cost them, for it would give them the coin needed to buy supplies.
    “’Tis going verra weel, m’lady. The shearing is coming along weel and it looks to be a finer lot than we had last year. The flocks are weel guarded and there has been no trouble. We move them around more often, too, just as ye ordered, so that they are nay so easily found.”
    “Good. I think we need to try to do the same with the cattle. Will says we lost six head last week. Poor little Donald was so upset that he had failed as a watchmon, he was close to crying, but I cannae fault the lad. He is young and he fell asleep.”
    Triona looked around the village as she fought down her anger over that loss, and idly noted that a few of the buildings needed some repair. It was sad to see how very empty the village now was. With so many of the surviving men having gone to France, it was mostly women and children who remained. A lot of them had moved in together, finding it much easier to manage the work and their children with other women right at hand. It was a good idea, undoubtedly made the women feel safer as well, but it left a lot of empty cottages, and there were not enough skilled hands to keep those empty buildings in good repair. It hurt her heart to see the once thriving village in such a state, and she knew that the longer the lack of repair continued, the harder it would be to return it all to what it had once been.
    “There be only two cows missing now, m’lady,” said Joan, breaking into Triona’s thoughts. “Four wandered home.”
    Looking back at Joan and nearly gasping in surprise, Triona asked,