But he’d not gone more than two paces when he was halted by Brodie Murray stepping into his path. Brodie had also taken part in the archery competition but he’d turned out to be next to useless with a bow. Not that this seemed to bother him, though. Brodie was the kind of youth who shrugged off disappointment with a grin and a laugh. Perhaps this was what Aislinn loved about him. Had he himself ever been that young and enthusiastic?
Will ye listen to yourself?he thought.You’re not even that much older than Brodie yet you go on like you’re an old man.Honestly, sometimes he felt it.
“That was some shooting, brother,” Brodie said, falling into step beside Emeric as he walked. Brodie had taken to calling him ‘brother’ as though he and Aislinn were already married. The lad already had two brothers so Emeric had no idea why he was so keen on adding another.
“My thanks,” he muttered, speeding up a little to try and leave Brodie behind. The lad didn’t take the hint, trotting to keep pace.
“I was hoping to have a word with ye about the marshes.”
Emeric stopped abruptly. “The marshes?”
Brodie nodded enthusiastically. “The ones on the eastern border of yer lands. Aislinn told me about yer guest—Anna is it?—and how she nearly got trapped in them. That place is a death trap for the unwary.”
“Tell me something I dinna know,” Emeric muttered.
“Well, I think I know a way to drain them that wouldnae take too much manpower.”
Emeric seemed to remember Aislinn mentioning Brodie’s interest in this. He also remembered that, like his own uncle, Brodie had spent a good deal of time studying in Italy. He was bookish and intelligent, more a scholar than a warrior, a luxury afforded a youngest son that probably wouldn’t be indulged in either of his older brothers.
“My grandfather already tried to drain that swamp. It just keeps filling again.”
“That’s because ye didnae devise a way to deal with floodwater.”
“And how exactly do ye know that?”
Brodie shrugged. “Aislinn showed me some old plans from the keep.”
“Oh, did she now?” Emeric said. What other clan information had his sister been freely handing over?
Brodie didn’t seem to notice his irritation. “Aye. The problem is keeping the land from re-flooding. A big job, as ye’ve said. However, I think if we construct a wash to hold floodwater, as well as a series of dykes, it could be done. I could show ye some plans if ye like.”
Emeric rubbed his chin. Draining the eastern marsh would free up more land for agriculture—land that would be extremely fertile. If they had more farmland available, that could only bring more wealth to the clan, making them less dependent on the MacDonalds.
“I’ll speak to my uncle and arrange a time we can get together to discuss it.”
Brodie grinned. “Excellent! I look forward to it!”
“Now, ye’ll have to excuse me. I need to speak to Anna. Ye havenae seen her have ye?”
“Oh, aye. She’s over there, taking part in the ax throwing contest.”
Emeric goggled. “She’swhat?”
He turned, squinting over to the far side of the field. He could make out the roped off square that had been set aside for the ax throwing. A large crowd was gathered around and he could hear oohs and ahhs coming from that direction. He narrowed his eyes at the figure that stepped forward to take their turn. He’d recognize the way she moved anywhere.
Anna.
What was she doing? Was she out of her mind? She was supposed to be keeping a low profile, curse it!
With a muttered goodbye to Brodie, Emeric hurried away. As he wove through the crowd, boisterous laughter and cheers rose and fell in a merry symphony. The smell of cooked meat and spilled ale mingled with the earthy scent of hay and animal dung. Above him, the sun was an unforgiving blaze in the cloudless sky, making his plaid stick uncomfortably to his skin. Everyone seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves but whatever pleasure he might have taken in the day had evaporated into a cloud of unease.
As he drew nearer, he noticed the excitement of those watching the ax throwing contest. Wagers were quickly swapping hands as each contestant threw, their faces strained with concentration, muscles rippling as they hurled their axes. But amongst this cluster of brawny men, every eye was fixed on one unlikely contender—Anna.
She stood at the throwing line, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked resplendent, like some warrior queen of old, and for a second, Emeric could hardly breathe at the sight of her.
And he wasn’t the only one who seemed spellbound by her.
Duncan MacDonald was standing by her side, far closer than necessary. What was he doing? Why was he leaning close like that? An acid-like feeling spread through Emeric’s stomach and he clenched his jaw so tightly histeeth began to ache.
