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“It was something I always did when approaching home, a habit of sorts,” she explained.

“It’s not your home anymore,” he said, his tongue remaining harsh.

“It was a harmless habit.”

“That you need no more,” Royden snapped.

Not used to a commanding husband, she said, “Your tongue need not be so sharp with me.”

“And you need to know your place.”

“And where would that be?”

“Wherever I command it to be,” he warned and his deep scowl threatened.

Oria drew back as if avoiding a hand to her face, not that he had raised his hand. She shook her head. “What has suddenly put you in such an ugly mood?”

“YOU!” he said and rode off.

She shook her head again. She had hoped for a far better day than this was proving to be and followed after Royden.

Oria took note of the way John, Angus, and Stuart spread out through the small village once they entered it. It came to her then that they were here to find out whatever they could. They would talk and share an ale or two or more and learn things. It had been wise of Royden to bring them.

Royden paid little heed to the village. He climbed the hill to the keep. It wasn’t a steep hill, but one could feel the pull in one’s legs when walking up it. He remembered visiting here with his da. Once up the hill, one could see a distance in all directions. From the narrow windows high up in the keep, the view was endless. There was no way anyone could approach this place without being seen.

“Burnell had to have seen the mercenaries approach. He would have had enough time to send for help.” He turned to Oria. “You must have realized that after a while.”

She walked to stand beside him, not an ache in her legs, having grown accustomed to the climb. “I did and I asked him about it. He told me he’d been expecting friends and with only a small group approaching, he thought it them. Once distracted by the strangers that arrived, others followed behind them.”

“Did you believe him?”

“I wasn’t sure. I asked myself if it was a lie, why would he lie? I didn’t like the answer. It meant Burnell was expecting the mercenaries.”

“He hired them,” Royden said with an anger he found hard to contain.

“I don’t believe so. The warriors never harmed him, but they didn’t pay him much heed either.”

“And if he had been the one paying them, then they would have treated him much differently,” Royden said, his conclusion leaving him frustrated.

“That was my thought, so I couldn’t be sure of anything. Except that Burnell and Thurbane were the only clan chieftains who didn’t attend our wedding. That thought refused to leave me.”

Royden turned and looked down on the village. “The village has prospered.”

“It has,” Oria agreed. “It wasn’t looted like the other keeps, and warriors made repairs while here and kept the storage sheds full of food and the fields tilled and planted.”

“It’s been kept in fine shape, perhaps it was the bargain Burnell struck with the leader of the mercenaries for use of his land.”

Oria didn’t like to think that she had been married to a man who had betrayed the other clans, but Burnell had escaped the turmoil and suffering the others had gone through.

Royden followed Oria into the keep. The fireplace, small for a Great Hall, was sufficient for the size. There was barely room for two tables and the dais held a table fit for only two people. It was clean and a pleasant scent filled the air.

Oria turned and smiled at the old woman, standing not much over five feet, her gray hair braided neatly, who entered the room, and she went over to her. “I’m not my lady anymore, Detta. I have come to make certain I have collected everything of mine before the new Lord Learmonth arrives.” She turned and looked to her husband. “This is my husband now, Chieftain Royden of the Clan MacKinnon.”

“Sir,” Detta said with a bob of her head. “Can I get you anything.”

“Your hospitality is appreciated but we won’t be long,” Royden said.

“If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” Detta said and bobbed her head again.

“I’ll come find you before we leave,” Oria said and the old woman left the room.

The stairs were narrow and with the width of Royden’s shoulders he had to turn on an angle to climb them to the second floor. Burnell would have had no problem climbing these since he’d been tall and slim.

They made their way to the second floor and entered the master bedchamber. It wasn’t large, a bed and a chest or two and a small table with a chair tucked neatly beneath it. The small fireplace heated the room as sufficiently as the one in the Great Hall for its size.


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