Royden nodded in agreement. “They’re happy to finally be home,”
“Aye, and don’t we know how that feels,” Oria said with a smile and hugged her husband’s arm, her hand traveling down to take hold of his wrist, no hand there for her to grab.
He looked down at her hand, amazed that she hadn’t flinched. Not once had she done so since that first time she had learned he’d lost his hand and that had been out of pain for what he had been through. She had accepted what fate had dealt him much easier than he had. But then he hadn’t told her the half of what he’d been through while healing from the awful wound. There had been times he could have sworn his hand was still there. Then there had been times the pain would get almost as bad as the day he’d lost it. It still pained him at times, but he refused to surrender to it or let anyone know.
“The village is coming together well,” Oria said. “Lona spins a fine wool with her spindle and whorl, and Colina, your warrior Sefton’s wife he brought home with him, has the same skill as well. Though we will need more sheep, the few left will not be enough.”
“There is a gathering soon for the various clans to sell or trade livestock and such. We’ll get sheep from there and whatever else we need before winter arrives.”
“You wear a scowl. What’s wrong?” Oria asked.
“Some of our clan has returned, but far more are absent and I wonder how many are lost to us forever.”
“And you worry how we will defend ourselves if ever attacked again,” Oria added when he didn’t.
“You read my thoughts well, wife.”
“My thoughts are much like yours,” she admitted. “How can we not worry about being prepared for an attack after suffering and losing so much on that horrendous day?”
“It will take years to rebuild the clan, leaving us vulnerable,” Royden admitted.
“Not if we acquire more warriors.”
“And how will we do that?”
“We do as the mercenaries do, only we invite warriors to join the clan, not capture and force them, who are tired of battle and look for a different life,” Oria explained.
“How do we trust they aren’t ordered to come to us to infiltrate our clan and then fight against us if the time comes again that we’re attacked?”
“Why would you and Arran be released if only to be attacked again? And why were we forced to wed as a condition of your release? It would seem someone wants the clan to survive.”
“I was told a high price was paid for my release and I would think Arran’s as well. I have wondered endlessly over who had sufficient coin and power to do that,” Royden said, the thought having troubled him since he’d first learned about it.
“You worry you’ll be beholding to someone who will make demands on you?” Oria asked, thinking the same herself.
“Aye, and what those demands might be is what concerns me,” he said.
She hugged his arm, then pressed against it. “Right now, I only care that you’re home and we’re together. And together we’ll face whatever comes our way.”
He bent his head and kissed her brow. “And together we will stay.”
“Always,” she said with a soft smile.
He hoped his fear of losing her again abated with time or else he feared he’d never let her go far from his side.
“Go and find out from Penn and Wilfred their thoughts on seeing if others like them would consider joining the Clan MacKinnon,” she urged.
The cry of a bird interrupted Royden’s response and his eyes went to the woods. “I have not heard such a clear cry of a gowk in years and it’s a female’s cry, which means a male is near. It’s a reminder that life continues no matter what.”
“Then go and see if we can improve the quick growth of our clan,” she urged once again and gave him a playful shove.
“What plans do you have that makes you so eager to be rid of me?” he asked with a feigned scowl, though it was important for him to know so if anything should happen he could get to her quickly.
“I will be helping in the kitchen garden today,” she informed him. “Now go and see to your duties.” She gave him another playful push. “And make sure you relate to me all that Penn and Wilfred have to say. We can meet later in your solar to talk.” She went to turn away, his response halting her.
“It won’t be talking we do in my solar,” he said.
Passion flared so hot in his dark eyes that it more than sparked her own and she wanted to grab his hand and drag him to his solar, but she couldn’t.
“I will hold you to that, husband,” she said and it took tremendous willpower to turn away from him and hurry off.