“I won’t let ye suffer.”
“It is too late. Where shall I go? Mother won’t allow me to return home for she’s wrath.”
“She’ll need time to get over her anger. Stay in your grandfather’s domain for now. I will send Branwyn to ye.” He walked off, and she shuttered, and wrapped James’ tartan around herself. She wasn’t sure if she was chilled or if the entire conversation rendered her verily dismayed.
Emlyn approached the door with the dragon and tried the handle. The door opened. She sat at the table and let her head thump against it. Her eyes blurred with more tears than she’d ever allowed to fall. She realized she’d never cried with as much heartbreak. James’ face came to mind when she closed her eyes and all she could think of was the words Laird Gunn bespoke at the Ross’ keep. She’d deserved his harsh words and hatred. With all her heart, she hoped and prayed that James fared better than she.
Chapter Twenty-Six
James had to get out of the barracks. The weather grew too warm to hold up in the confined space. He pulled a clean tartan from the shelf in the garrison and took it with him. The walk to the sea was exhausting, but he wanted to cool off and clean himself. He stripped his garments and walked into the water.
Several unseasoned soldiers swam in the depths. James kept his distance from them because he wasn’t wont to speak to anyone.
Even though the day grew warm, the water remained cold. Within minutes his skin numbed. He realized being in the water made his leg feel somewhat better. Without his weight on it, it didn’t hurt at all.
Refreshed from the swim, James made his way to the shoreline and wrapped the clean tartan around his waist. It was hot enough to go without a tunic and so he hadn’t brought one. On his way back to the keep, he stopped and dumped his launder in the basket outside the garrison. It felt good being outdoors again. He found himself at the top of the incline above the training fields.
What he wouldn’t give to be down on the field exercising his sword arm. Content to watch, he saw Duff instructing a group of young lads. They had to be nearly ten years in age. James hadn’t seen Grey in over a sennight, not since his return from Donal’s. But he discerned his laird was home for Bea had told him so when she brought foodstuffs and had told him Grey insisted he eat.
But James hadn’t been hungry. He couldn’t stomach the thought of food. He did manage to eat a wee bit of what Bea left for him. And when Gell brought the burnt sticks and pieces of wood he needed to whittle his arrows, he left bowls of soups and stews, breads and cheese. There was enough food left for him to feed a family through the winter. James was humbled by their care and so he forced himself to eat again. Much of the food he gave to the other soldiers that stayed in the garrison. They were happy to have the fare.
The sun warmed his chest as he sat there watching the rounds of practice. He grew hot, so much so that he had to move beneath a shady tree or his skin would burn. He stretched out his legs and closed his eyes, and breathed in the summer scents.
“There you are, James. I’ve been looking for you.”
He recognized that voice and grinned. James opened his eyes and saw his longtime friend standing there. “Sean, what are you doing here? No one told me you were coming.” He started to rise, but Sean quickly joined him on the ground.
“I came to get aid. We’ve a good amount of sheep missing and I thought—” Sean ceased speaking and glowered. “You look like hell, James. I don’t think I’ve ever seen ye look so defeated. I’m concerned.”
James leaned against the tree and scowled. He raised his good leg and rested his arm on it. “Why don’t ye tell me what you really think?”
“We’ve been friends a long time, James. I’m not wont to affront you, but I’m being honest. What the hell happened to you?”
He took a breath before unloading the events since he’d last seen Sean. “I had to send her back, for she wasn’t wont to be with me.”
“Aye, mayhap you did what was right. Och you’re fortunate she rescued you.”
“I wish she hadn’t for I deem I’d be better off dead.”
Sean punched his arm, and didn’t hold back for it hurt. “It is not like ye to speak this way. Take that aback.” He punched him again until he conceded.
“Aye, aye, I do. Damn you, Sean, my arm is going to bruise. I’m going to have to find something to do now to occupy my time since I can’t be a guardsman. Grey commanded Gell not bring me any more sticks or wood, too, and I’m bored out of my mind.”
Sean laughed. “Why would he do that? Tell me you’re still not etching those ghastly drawings?”
“You’ll see. Walk with me to the garrison so I can grab a tunic.”
Sean rose and threw a hand at him, and helped him from the ground.
James walked a slow pace and didn’t limp as badly, for he was able to compensate for the pain. Sean didn’t comment on his stride though and relaxed his step. They reached the garrison and Sean bellowed in laughter when he noticed his stash.
“Damn me, James, that’s enough arrows to supply the king’s army for months.”
“Should I send them to him?”
Sean turned and frowned and appeared unable to retort. His breath rushed out in a lamented sigh. “You jest, but I cannot help but be … concerned.”
“Be not. I was bored and needed something to occupy me. Worry not.”
His friend reached for his parchments and flipped through them. He turned and his face downcast. “Is this what your leg looked like?”
James opened his trunk and took out a freshly laundered tunic and pulled it on. He glanced at the drawing Sean held up. “Nay, that’s of a lad who got hurt during training. Keep flipping.”
Sean thumbed through the parchment pages and the rest of the images and his jaw tightened when he saw what he’d drawn. He refrained from commenting to which James was thankful, because the last thing he wanted was his friend’s pity.
“I need to speak with Grey. Are you coming to the keep with me?”
James wasn’t wont to be around anyone, but Sean obviously had troubles and his curiosity was piqued. He decided to join him and find out what was happening.
“Aye. I haven’t seen Grey. How is he?”
Sean raised a brow. “Concerned for you. As am I, as are all within the clan. If ye weren’t hurting, James, I vow I’d knock you on your arse.”
For the first time in weeks, James laughed. The rumble of it reached his chest. It felt good to be somewhat jovial again.
Sean kept his pace leisurely on the way to the keep, and James knew he did so on purpose. He ignored the twinges of pain and concentrated on his comrade.
Silence met him when he entered the hall, and it struck him odd because the hall usually filled with noise this time of day. Bree and the children were absent as well as guardsmen and servants. All, it seemed, had vacated the keep this day.
Bea entered and waved to him. He smiled at her when she approached and hastened to pull out a chair for him. Bea was the only maid Grey trusted in the hall when he had meetings or when news was given. For she would never speak of anything she overheard and wasn’t one to gossip.
“It is good to see you, James. You look … well.”
James softened his gaze and nodded. “As do you, Bea.”
Grey entered the hall and marched with heavy feet to the table. He didn’t seem surprised to see Sean or him inside the hall.
“Laird, I set a cup of ale for each of you and I’ll ensure all are kept from the hall during your ah, discussion.”
“Thank you, Bea.” Grey took a seat and looked after her as she left.
James took the seat Bea had pulled out for him and watched Grey’s face for that look he typically wore when he was concerned. But he saw only a serene expression on his friend’s face and nothing that gave away any deceit. He knew Sean and Grey were up to something, and as much as he wanted to be ireful, he couldn’t be.