the Limond get across the river so quickly?”
“‘Tis right dead brilliant how they do it. When ye go to the village ye will see a large raft on each side o’ the river. The men board the raft, tie the ropes to arrows and shoot them across so the men on the other side can pull the raft over.”
“ ‘Tis brilliant.”
“Aye, but it takes time and for this battle, they were slow in pulling them across. A few minutes more and the battle might have been lost .”
Stefan nodded. It explained why there were no men to fight them on the shore and he made a mental note to search out these rafts and have a look. For now, however, he did not want to think about it anymore so he smiled to relieve her worry. “‘Tis the past and best left behind.”
*
Jirvel insisted Kannak sleep with her and gave him the bed in the other room near the door. It was perhaps not proper to let a boy not related stay inside, but she decided she would feel safer with him and his weapons inside where he could protect them…safer than she felt in weeks.
As soon as Kannak came back with the water, she sent her off to bed and handed Stefan an extra blanket. She went to the doorway that separated the two rooms and untied the cord that held up the curtain. “Good night.”
He nodded, watched her lower the curtain and took off his shoes. He again considered the need for a new pair. He could afford the cobbler and was tempted, but with a Viking missing, letting the Scots know of his wealth would not be such a good idea. Shoes would have to wait. With no sleep the night before and with the pain of losing his father draining him of all emotion, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.
*
It was Friday week before Laird Macoran arrived with his guard to see the laddie Jirvel’s brother sent from the north. Each of the clansmen had red, shoulder length hair, trimmed beards and wore dark green tunics tucked inside short, belted kilts. For a long moment, Macoran stared at Stefan who stood just behind Kannak and her mother. “My lads swear one got away and he looks like a Viking.”
“So do half the lads in the north,” Jirvel reminded him. “He is a good laddie and a gift from God in our time of need.” The reminder that he had not realized they were alone and seen to her care as a good laird should, seemed to do the trick and Macoran took his eyes off the tall boy . Then he looked over the land.
Already they were starting to clear a sizeable plot beside the cottage and getting it ready for planting. The skins of two red deer were stretched tight on wooden frames and they had reinforced the shed with more poles along the sides so the roof would not collapse. Even the small courtyard in front of the cottage looked different, although he could not quite discern why. Then he realized Jirvel had started planti ng flowers next to the cottage.
Though he did not let on, Stefan was revolted. The guards kept looking at Kannak which obviously agitated Jirvel and Laird Macoran was wearing Armani ’s sword with the gold plated handle. It meant Armani was dead too, and Stefan looked away pretending to check on the cow. It galled him to see another man wearing it, even if he was a laird and Stefan silently vowed to have that sword for himself someday.
“Eogan has not come back, I see. Perhaps ‘tis time for a new husband,” Laird Macoran said.
Jirvel ’s mouth dropped and it took a moment for her to gather her senses. “And commit bigamy? Would ye have the church excommunicate me?”
“I could have the priest set aside yer marriage.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “Say the truth o’ it.”
He should have known he could not pull the wool over her eyes. “Ye have me, I see. Two lads have asked for ye since ye last came to the village. As their laird, I am forced to consider it.”
She glanced at the other men and tried to remember her manners. “I am complimented they find me pleasing, but I will wait for my husband’s return.”
“He