“I’m not staring at anybody.” The heat of a blush filled her cheeks.
“Nay? ’Tis a wonder your neck has no’ gone stiff from all the looking you have no’ done this week.” Elaine laughed, and the women joined her.
“Go away.” Alethia scowled. “There are thirsty people in the fields calling your name.”
“Really? ’Tis your name I hear most oft called.” Still chuckling, Elaine moved away to offer water elsewhere.
Quick movement caught Alethia’s eye. She turned to see Hunter streaking toward her through a field of oats. He slammed into her knees to stop himself, and water sloshed over the sides of the bucket onto her gown. Hunter scurried behind her, burrowing himself into the backs of her legs. She tried to dislodge him by turning. He stayed put.
She searched the fields, looking for whatever it was that had frightened him. Malcolm strode their way with a boy in tow. The child held his hands up to his nose to stanch the flow of blood. She put her bucket down and reached back to drag Hunter out from behind her.
“True, I have need of your aid,” Malcolm said once they’d reached her. “This is Tieren.” He gave the boy a small shake. “I would have you sign to Hunter what is being said.”
Tieren glared at Hunter. She pulled a scrap of linen from her pocket, wet it with the ladle from her bucket and handed it to him. She watched as he smeared the blood from his nose over the lower half of his face. “Of course,” she replied.
“’Tis unbefitting for a MacKintosh to hide behind a woman’s skirts when his own foolishness lands him in trouble.” Malcolm frowned at Hunter, who stood dejectedly before him. “You will each tell your side before I render judgment.” Malcolm turned to Tieren and spoke to him in Gaelic, while she signed as simply as she could for Hunter to understand.
Only a few of Malcolm’s words were familiar to her, but when the boy answered, she knew he wasn’t telling the truth. “He’s lying.”
“Aye, I dinna doubt it,” Malcolm replied. “He says Hunter attacked without provocation.” Malcolm placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Ask him to tell his side.”
Alethia touched Hunter, whose gaze was fixed on Malcolm. She signed the question, and he sent her pictures and signed as best he could. “A group of boys taunt him,” she began. “This one is their leader. As long as Hunter faces them, or can see where they are, he can protect himself, even though he’s much smaller.” At this point, Hunter lifted his chin and gave Malcolm a small, boastful grin. “But they wait until his back is turned and…”
She gasped, and her eyes flashed to Malcolm’s. “They’ve been throwing stones at him!” She had to swallow hard and fight to keep from throttling the child in Malcolm’s grasp. “Tieren believed Hunter wouldn’t be able to tell his side.” She forced the words out around the lump in her throat.
Malcolm turned Hunter and lifted his shirt. His scrawny back was covered with fresh, angry welts. More marked the backs of his legs. Malcolm spoke harshly in Gaelic to Tieren, who hung his head. She watched Malcolm’s face tighten as he stepped away. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his hands were clenched at his sides. Several tense moments passed before he turned back to them.
“What did you say to Tieren?”
“His actions are those of a coward and a bully. I let him know of my displeasure. Such behavior is unacceptable to our clan.” Motioning to the boys, he took up the bucket of water resting at Alethia’s feet. “Explain to Hunter the two of them are to share the job of bringing water to those who sweat in the fields, so that we all have food to eat during the long winter months. He and Tieren will share this task until harvest is complete down to the last turnip.”
Alethia signed to Hunter while Malcolm spoke to the other boy in low tones. It was clear to her more was being said than the description of their punishment. Tieren’s face fell, and she sensed the deep shame and the remorse he felt.
Without looking at each other, the two boys lifted the bucket between them and walked away. The disparity in their height caused water to slosh onto their spindly legs. “Do you think this will be the end of it?”
“Nay.” Malcolm wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and watched their progress.
“You reminded me of my father just now. He was a great leader and a good man.”
“’Tis high praise indeed.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her.
“It’s meant to be. I remember a similar penance he gave three boys in our village. They ran wild and caused trouble everywhere they went. The three of them harassed an elderly woman and vandalized her property. She was a widow and alone. My father sentenced the boys to be her guardians for a year. They had to cut wood for her, shovel snow from her door and make sure she had food to eat, that sort of thing.”