Beloved Secrets, Book 3 Read online

  “Aye.”

  “Jamie hid his money, he must have, only none of us are privy as to where – unless he told you.”

  “I assure you, he did not, nor did Bruce allow me to know.”

  Evander paused to contemplate what that meant. “Perhaps ‘tis true then. Tell me, how many cows do you see below?”

  Shaw counted them and then answered, “Eight milk cows and one bull.”

  “I say we only have five milk cows and one bull.”

  Shaw looked at his friend and then nodded. “We must give one for the tithe and butcher two for our winter meat.”

  “Aye,” Evander said. “Now count the sheep.”

  “As we have more sheep than cows, perhaps we should do with mutton this winter instead of beef.”

  “Never mind that, just count them.”

  Shaw did as his friend requested and then answered, “Twenty-seven in this herd.”

  “Do you not mean Twenty-three?”

  “We are to butcher two cows and four sheep?”

  “Nay, we are to give an incorrect count to Hendry before the tithe and before he takes his share.”

  Shaw loosened his reins to allow his horse to nibble on the grass. He was beginning to see the beauty in Evander’s deception and finally smiled. “Twenty-one then.”

  “Good. Hendry has asked me to be his second in command and wishes you to be his third.”

  Shaw’s jaw dropped. “Surely you have not agreed on my behalf.”

  “How else are we to keep him from knowin’ our every move? One of us must distract him now that he refuses to have a council or to listen to the elders. Otherwise he shall stand in the window of the tower watchin’ us constantly. The clan shall count on us to keep them safe from Hendry. We are young and can handle him, if he strays from the ways of the MacGreagors.”

  “I am not yet able to mount a horse, let alone fight Hendry should he become unruly. Besides I gave Glenna my pledge to stay out of the castle. I’ve not been in it but twice.”

  “Because your mother fell from the tower?”

  “Aye.”

  “You gave Glenna your pledge as a laddie. Now you are a lad and must make your own decisions.”

  “In that case, I steadfastly decline the offer to be Hendry’s third,” said Shaw.

  “Very well, I shall tell Hendry to choose another.”

  “Even so, you have accepted?”

  “I can think of no other way to know what he is up to.” Evander looked to the far end of the loch where the horses were grazing. “We have but twenty horses the English dinna take.”

  “Sixteen, then,” said Shaw

  “Aye, sixteen – countin’ your horse.”

  That thought made Shaw pause to reconsider his decision. For years, Hendry kept a wanting eye on Shaw’s stallion, although the horse always shied away from Hendry. “Hendry would demand him,” Shaw muttered as he affectionately patted the side of the horse’s neck.

  “Have you the wits to talk him out of it, as surely you shall have to?”

  Shaw chuckled. “Have you not always known just how to persuade me?”

  “Nearly always. Tonight,” Evander continued, “I shall have the lads move some of the food out of the cellars into the empty cottages. Tomorrow, you shall count the harvest, agreed?”

  “Did you not say he wanders the glen at night?”

  “We have thought of that.”

  “We?” Shaw asked.

  “Skye has agreed to distract him.”

  Shaw glared at his best friend. “I shall not hear of it. Not Skye, she is too...”

  “Fret not, he shall be too drunk to catch her, or even know who she is.”

  Shaw watched as one of the wives began to herd her flock of sheep to a different parcel of the land, where the grass was more plentiful. Her sheepdog seemed confused, for it knew not what became of the man who commanded him in the past. The dog would comply eventually, for herding sheep was his purpose in life. Just now, however, it was a challenge for both the lass and dog. “As third in command, what would Hendry have me do?” he asked at length.

  “When you are well enough?” Evander asked.

  “Aye.”

  “Not likely much save for countin’ that which he wants counted. He persuades himself that if you are with him, so shall the clan be,” Evander answered. “Perhaps when he does not require your attention, you might make more burial boxes. We seem to need them these days.”

  It was definitely time for Shaw to choose a more useful profession. Before the battle, he trained the horses to come when called. He liked making things too, just as his father had before him. Unfortunately, his father did not live long enough to teach him much in the way of crafting furniture. There were no new horses to train now anyway and he had helped Bruce make boxes often enough. Perhaps that was what the clan needed. Someone always got the cough and died in winter, and sometimes more than one departed this life.

  “Once inside the castle on a daily basis and after Hendry trusts me more,” Evander was saying, “I can search for Jamie’s funds. The people need their pay.”

  “Are you not convinced Hendry has already searched?”

  “Of course he has, but I doubt Jamie left it where it could be easily discovered.”

  “And if you cannae find it?”

  “Then I shall pay out of what I have managed to save.”

  “I can help with that too. Bruce...” Shaw sharply dropped his head to his chin. “I still cannae believe it, I know ‘tis true, for I brought him home. Yet...”

  Evander was quiet for a long time too before he spoke, “I still hear my father call me sometimes.” He looked away, and then looked back at Shaw. “The clan is ours to save now and ‘tis precisely what I intend to do. Shall you help me or nay?”

  “Aye.”

  “Go home then and get well. Tomorrow you count the harvest.”

  “What do you mean to do?”

  Evander looked toward the castle tower. Although he could not see the man inside, he was certain they were being watched. “I mean to look as though I know what I am doin’.” With that, Evander urged his horse back down the hill, and then turned toward the small flock of sheep, and the poor woman trying to herd them.

  CHAPTER 5

  SHAW HAD NOT FORGOTTEN his vow to look in on the last two injured men. He rode his horse to the middle of the courtyard, carefully slid down, and then set the horse free. William’s cottage was down a different path than the one that led to the cottage he shared with Glenna, so he went there first. When he knocked on the door, William’s wife stepped out.

  “How is he?” Shaw asked.

  “His fever is gone, at long last, and he sleeps peacefully.”

  “Tell him I asked about him?”

  “I shall,” said she.

  Shaw nodded and then returned the way he came until he reached another path. He turned down that one and walked to the cottage Andra shared with his wife. What he found when he knocked, was a shock he was not prepared for. Andra sat on the side of his bed with his back to the door physically shaking.

  “How long has he been like this?” he asked Finola. Three small children sat on the floor beside their father’s bed, playing with sticks and pebbles.

  “It comes and goes,” she said.

  “What injuries has he?”

  She answered just by pointing. On the side of Andra’s head was a hideous axe gash that dented his skull and should have killed him. That he was still alive was a miracle. However, it looked as though the cut was healing nicely and the stitches could be removed soon.

  “Any other injuries?”

  “Nay, but he is unsteady on his feet still.”

  By the time she answered, Andra had turned to look behind him and his shaking had stopped. “Shaw, you are alive?” asked Andra. “I dinna think you were.”

  “I dinna think you were either.” Shaw walked around the bed and picked up a leather pouch. “You have finished it?”

  “I have little
else to do these days.”

  Shaw put the bag down and sat on the bed beside Andra. “You have a great deal to do. How I wish I had paid more attention to Bruce, for I am not at all certain how to make a box for buryin’. Yet, we are in need of them. We, none of us, thought life would end so abruptly for those we loved. One day they were here and the next gone.” He stopped to look at the confused expression on Andra’s face. “What I mean to say is, you must teach your children how to work the leather.” He paused until Andra’s expression changed to one of understanding. “Just now I am reminded. We lost our only cobbler, and if you have a mind to, perhaps you might try mendin’ shoes?”

  “But Shaw, I shake.”

  “And I shall likely limp all of my remainin’ days. I hope not, but ‘tis likely. Did your hands shake while you worked on the pouch?”

  “Nay, but...”

  “Andra, you cannae stay inside forever. Let the clan see that you are well, that you care for them, and then do your best to learn how to mend shoes. We need you.” At last, Andra smiled and just then, Shaw thought of something else. He handed Andra the cane Skye let him use. “This should help you walk better and if you need two canes, Sky’s grandfather had another. I shall ask her for it.”

  “Do you believe in angels?” Andra asked. “After the battle, I saw angels walkin’ among the dead.”

  “Did you? I dinna see them but I find great comfort in knowin’ you did,” Shaw said. “How did you get home?”

  “Conall found a horse and brought me. He was hurt far more than I, and now...”

  “And now he hurts no more.” Shaw bowed his head for a moment, got up, nodded to Andra’s wife, and then gently touched the top of the little boy’s head.

  As he stepped back outside, he was concerned about not having the cane to rely on, but as he walked down the path, he found himself to be stronger than he thought. Perhaps he would not limp all his life after all.

  For a time, he considered what Andra said. Was it an angel that let him live? A slow smile crossed his face. He supposed not, for he doubted the angels in heaven wore chain-mail armor and carried an English sword.

  AT EIGHTEEN, INNIS was still unmarried and her chances of ever having a husband had now diminished considerably. She could not help but be somewhat angry and bitter. The year before, her mother passed and since she had no children, she was happy to spend her days cooking and cleaning for Jamie and his family. The castle kitchen, if one could call it that, was little more than an alcove off the dining room. It had a hearth, a table for cutting, various pots, and several sturdy knives. The problem was not the size of the kitchen – it was Hendry. Innis lost two brothers and her father in the battle, and had as much right to grieve as anyone else. Hendry did not think so and made fun of her each time her tears got the better of her. She found it an insult not easily gotten over.

  The sun had not yet set, but it was well past time to serve Hendry a meal. Instead of being in the castle kitchen, Innis sat at the table in her cottage defiantly glaring at Evander. Scant light filtered through her small window, and the embers in her hearth offered little more illumination than the lone candle in the middle of her table.

  “I’ll not go back,” a determined Innis said. “I hate the lad. He grieves for no one, cares for no one save himself, and is unpleasant even when he is not drunk.”

  “Aye,” Evander argued, “but who better to keep an eye on him?”

  “You wish me to spy on him? I’ll not do it. I care not what he does.”

  “Do you not think it necessary? Surely you have heard the rumors.”

  Innis disgustedly clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “Of course I have. We hardly speak of anythin’ else these days.”

  “Then if a lass longed for a child and was desperate enough to...”

  Both of Innis’ eyebrows shot up. “I could persuade her otherwise?”

  “Precisely.”

  “I know not what good I can do. Such things happen at night and I’ll not stay in the castle after dark. I dare not for I dinna trust him.”

  “I dinna expect you to stay the night.” Evander untied a small leather pouch from his belt, spread the strings apart, and dumped three gold coins on the table. “Your pay for last month.”

  “You found Jamie’s money?”

  “Nay, ‘tis what Shaw and I can manage.”

  “The two of you cannae pay all that Jamie owes.”

  “Possibly not, but for now we pay you. Once the tithe is paid and Hendry takes his share of the harvest, perhaps there shall be extra to sell in the village. We can always sell a horse, for the English took many a Scot’s horse and the other clans are surely in need.”

  Innis’ eyes began to brighten and she was about to smile when she changed her mind. “And what if King Hendry dinna pay us next month?”

  Evander looked none too pleased with her when he said, “Let us not borrow more trouble than we already have.”

  “Very well, but I shall make certain Hendry does not think I return because I think highly of him.”

  Evander chuckled. “He’d not believe you, if you said you did. Are we agreed?”

  “Aye,” Innis said at length. She got up, lifted her coat off a nail on the wall, and started to put it on. “’Tis likely the castle be a pigsty by now.”

  “I’ve another request.”

  She finished putting on her coat and then suspiciously glared at him. “What?”

  “Tonight we hide some of the harvest from Hendry. Skye shall try to keep him occupied, but she shall need you to...”

  “I best take my dagger,” said Innis. She turned all the way around until she remembered she hung her weapon on a nail too. However, when she realized she already had her coat on, she became a little flustered.

  Evander took pity on her dilemma, helped her off with her coat, held it while she tied her dagger on, and then helped her put the coat back on. After she closed the door in his face, Evander puffed his cheeks.

  HIDING PART OF THE harvest from Hendry would have been better done late at night, but there was not a lad among them that did not need a full night’s sleep. Therefore, it was but an hour after sundown that Skye headed to the castle.

  When Jamie was laird, there was a guard on the castle door – not any more. A man spending all his time just guarding Hendry was the last thing the clan could spare. Thankfully, there was no moon to lighten the glen and the only light came from candles in cottage windows. That was a very good thing for that meant there would be no Hendry in the tower watching everyone. As she quietly opened the outer door and closed it, she guessed he was in the Great Hall, already drinking more than was appropriate. As part of the plan, Innis made an ample supper for Hendry, hoping he might simply fall asleep.

  On the bottom floor of the three-story castle, the only windows were more like slits and barely large enough to shoot an arrow through, although it had been so long since the clan had seen a battle in the glen, no one knew if it was truly possible. Even so, on this night it was helpful that any light coming from inside the castle was slight. As soon as she crossed the inner courtyard and neared the door, she pulled the strings of her small leather bag apart so she could easily reach inside if she needed to. The door leading to the castle foyer was larger and heavier than the first, but she managed to open and close it without making a sound.

  Skye cautiously crossed the foyer, laid her back against the inside wall and listened. Just as she promised, Innis left the door to the Great Hall slightly ajar. Skye could hear Hendry and he definitely was not asleep. He was, however, drunk enough to enjoy himself by humming an off-key unfamiliar melody. Skye rolled her eyes and guardedly peeked in. Fortunately, Hendry was not in sight, so she took a chance, scurried across the doorway to the stairs and started up.

  She couldn’t remember when or why she and Jamie’s wife had become such good friends, but there was not a nook or cranny in the entire castle Skye was not familiar with and her knowledge was about to come in very handy. She kne
w just where to step on the stairs, how to stay near the wall on the landings until she got to the next flight, and how to make her way up without making the old wood in the floor creak.

  On the third floor, she went first to check the small room where the Lairds of old kept their treasures. Save for an ancient hourglass, she found nothing of value. It was time then, to put her plan into action. She went to the door nearest the back stairs, opened it, and then with all her might slammed it shut. The noise echoed throughout the entire building, and soon she heard Hendry throw open the door to the Great Hall.

  “Who goes there?” Hendry shouted.

  She snickered, and went to the next door. This time when she slammed it, she heard him dart across the dining hall floor and knew he would soon reach the back stairs. She moved closer to the front stairs and counted his steps as he raced up the first flight. Then he stopped. It was not until he moaned that she guessed moving that quickly made him a bit dizzy. Again, she softly giggled and waited.

  This time, his footsteps on the second flight of the back stairs were slower and more pronounced. She counted his steps until she knew he was about to head into the third floor hallway, and then carefully crept down the front stairs to the second floor. Above, she could hear him opening and closing the first bedchamber door, and knew it was time. She grabbed the handle to his bedchamber door on the second floor, opened, and slammed it so hard she felt an odd shaking beneath her feet.

  Just as she knew he would, Hendry started down the back stairs, but now there was more to consider than just keeping Hendry occupied. Some claimed the mortar in the old castle unworthy, that it could fall at any moment, and Skye was beginning to believe them. Evander promised the men could move the extra food to the empty cottages in short order and she certainly hoped that was true, for at that moment there was nothing she wanted more than to go home. Even so, hiding the food was important, so she said a little prayer and contemplated her next move.

  While Hendry came down the back stairs, she went back up the front staircase to the third floor. At the top, she turned around, stuck her hand in her bag, withdrew several pebbles, and threw them as far as she could down stairs.