He needed relief, and after that, he would regain his senses and could function without being led about by his breeches. After grabbing a bottle from the cellar, he went below the stairs and into the courtyard.
The wind was blowing strong, whipping through the walkways. He cursed as he stared around. There was a lot still to do to prepare the keep for the winter, including the small matter of a prisoner exchange with MacThomas, and the rebellion. At least for now, the skies were still clear above. He still had time to make all things right.
He drank his wine and gazed at the moon and countless stars shining until the darkness slowly gave way to daylight.
“Good morn, brother.”
Darach turned to see Morven standing a short distance away in a loose shirt and britches. “‘Tis cold, Morven. Where are yer furs?”
Morven grinned. “It’s only a slight wind, brother. I dinnae see ye wearing yers either.”
Darach laughed and raised his bottle. “I had this tae keep my chest warm.”
“Aye,” Morven chuckled, taking a seat by his side. “I’d have some of that. It’ll keep my chest warm before the journey tae the Sinclair lands.”
Darach handed the bottle to Morven, who sipped it while thinking about the warrior his younger sibling had become. Hewas the most devoted person he'd ever known. There was supposed to be a gathering of prominent Jacobite leaders, but Morven would be there in his place. Darach had no doubt that his brother would vigorously defend their interests. He had faith in him.
“Rest eluded ye?”
Darach nodded, and his brother's lips curved into a wry grin. He was relieved to have him by his side, but he worried that Morvenwas deeply disturbed by things he'd rather not express. He'd been that way since he returned home, hardened and broken from his seven-year confinement, nobody knowingwhat he'd been through.
“The lass? Is she the reason for yer sleeplessness?”
“Partly.” Darach shrugged. “‘Twas mostly worry.”
Morven nodded and looked away. Darach decided to ask him a question that had been on his mind for a while.
“What do ye think of the lass? How do ye judge her?”
Morven stared around at the keep, his eyes glancing over the courtyard where they’d trained for many years to become the hardened warriors they were. Then he looked at the darkened, crumbling walls that were even now being repaired, thanks to Lorna's ingenuity with the funds.
“I ken how hard ‘twill be for anyone tae leave the home they’ve known for so long. In different times, I would’ve advised ye differently. But times are changed. These are times when all the clans should think the Robertson clan is strong enough as a pillar of this rebellion, or things might go sour for us.”
Darach nodded. “Indeed, times are different, and ‘tis the truth that other clans must look at us as one tae not trifle with. Bending tae MacThomas’s will weakens us in the eyes of friends and foes alike.”
“I’m glad tae have ye understand,” Morven said. “‘Twill be a hard task tae prepare our allies for William’s onslaught. We’ve nae much time tae whip them intae shape because William is impatient tae be rid of us once and for all. It means we need our enemies tae fear us. Their fear delays them and gives us time tae rally the rest of the clans in the north.”
“Ye’re right.” Darach sipped more wine. “‘Tis a new page in our history that we’re embarking on,” he continued. “I intend tae make better things in our time than our faither did as laird.”
For a moment, Morven didn’t acknowledge his words. Darach knew it was because the memory of their father caused him too much discomfort.
“Ye’ve done well,” Morven muttered. “A fortnight ago, I thought about all of it. Did ye imagine that ye’d be laird of the clan and have brought us so much glory when he was still alive?”
The truth was an ugly, unforgiving thing—always there, never changing. “Nay. We were just trying tae survive.”
“‘Tis his fault we’ve struggled for as many years as we have,” Morven said quietly. “Lorna and I are grateful tae have had ye as our defender from his evil over the years.”
Darach’s mind went to his brother's abduction. “I didnae do enough.”
“Ye did. I owe ye more than I can ever repay, brother. Now, I’d better get ready tae set out soon for the assembly. Since I am already awake, perhaps I should ready the horses for the journey. I had some of the men bring down the trunks last night tae load intae the carts.”
Darach nodded. “Wish I was going on this one with ye.”
Morven clapped his shoulder. “Ye have the bigger task of cleaning up the mess with MacThomas and dealing with the lady as well. I dinnae envy ye right now.”
Darach chuckled and rolled his eyes. “She’s a headache, that one.”
Morven laughed and then shook his head. “When will ye tell her that her faither is doing naething tae save her?”