Ceci Giltenan(40)

Niall shook his head in frustration. “Are ye still needed here?”

Katherine thought for a moment. Although Ailis still had coughing fits, they were less frequent and had eased a great deal. Also, the lass breathed much more easily between them now. Since she had obviously wet herself on Katherine’s lap, the fluids seemed to be helping, too. Katherine knew she had done all she could do for now. “Nay, I think Kara and Caolin can handle it as long as they promise to send for me if something changes for the worse.”

The women agreed. Katherine gave Ailis to her mother before leaving the cottage with Niall. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Finally Niall said, “Katherine, I am your husband and your laird. It is my duty to protect ye, but I can’t do that if I don’t even know where ye are. Do ye understand that?”

“Aye,” she said quietly.

“Do ye really?”

“I understand you need to know where I am, so you will know I’m safe.” She didn’t fully understand why. After the whole ‘don’t leave the walls without an escort’ incident she understood why he felt she needed protection outside the walls. Surely if she hadn’t gone outside the walls, she could only be inside the walls and therefore safe. However, it was a simple enough request. “I truly didn’t mean to worry you and I’ll try not to disappear again.”

“Try?” he questioned, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. “There is no ‘try.’ Don’t,” he commanded firmly. Looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, he said, “Ye are all wet.”

“I said you scared the lass.”

“That isn’t ...”

“Aye, it is.”

“I didn’t mean to scare the wee thing,” he said, looking contrite.

“Och, don’t fash yerself, laddie,” she said in her best imitation of Bridie, “I’m sure she’s not the first, nor will she be the last lass whose knees ye cause to quiver.”

“Cheeky wench,” he said with a grin, “I’d make your knees quiver here and now, but ye need a bath.”

“That I do,” agreed Katherine. She laughed heartily and turned to walk with him to the keep. Given the lateness of the hour, it would be much easier to bathe in the kitchen, but she suspected Niall would object unless she gave him a persuasive argument. “Niall, it’s late, I think I’ll just bathe in the kitchen.”

“A bath can be brought up. Ye needn’t bathe in the kitchen.”

“I was just thinking ye could get to the part of the evening where ye make my knees quiver much more quickly if I do.”

“Och, yer a bold one, Katherine MacIan,” he said with a salacious grin.

Katherine bathed in the kitchen that night.





Thirteen



In August, the sentries reported another raid on the western border. Even though the clan’s financial hardships had been resolved, Niall found the losses to theft insufferable. Frustrated and irritated, he discussed the problem in the great hall that evening with Diarmad, Alan, and Cairbre. Katherine worked on a tapestry, while Fingal played a game with Tomas near the hearth.

“How are we going to stop the greedy bastard? I would be insane to do more than retaliate with similar raids, but I can’t sit back and let him rob me blind, either,” Niall said.

“He seems to be targeting just us,” said Cairbre. “There have been no reports of trouble with other bordering clans.”

“He’s not feuding with other clans,” said Alan.

“He’s not feuding with us, either,” said Diarmad. “They’ve always been a prickly bunch, but that disagreement was resolved years ago.

“Apparently,” said Alan, “No one told Tadhg.”

“Malcolm thinks Matheson has a much bigger target than a few head of livestock,” said Niall.

“What, Duncurra?” Fingal said.

“I have to agree with Malcolm, one way of ensuring the defeat of an opponent is to critically weaken him first,” Niall explained.

“Well, that would be true if a few sheep would critically weaken ye, and it could have in the spring, but not now. Even if that was his intention, it no longer makes sense,” Fingal rationalized.

“There’s no chance Matheson doesn’t know about the wedding?” asked Cairbre.

“I don’t think there is a soul in the Highlands who doesn’t know about the wedding,” scoffed Diarmad.

“Is it possible the greedy bastard just enjoys pilfering our sheep?” Alan asked.

“I don’t think so. These facts don’t add up,” said Fingal. “I know Tadhg Matheson better than any of ye do. He trained with Laird Chisholm when I was there. He is not stupid, and, to be frank, he never struck me as greedy, either.”