"She talks a great deal for a woman who rides alone."
James glanced up at him. "She talks to me," he said. As if clarifying something that Anthony might have misunderstood.
He sat back in the chair and watched the boy work.
Outside the window the sky was going dark, the last grey of the afternoon thinning out.
The candle on the side table threw a steady light. James's breathing filled the room at its new pace, easier than it had been a week ago, easier than it had been yesterday.
"Anthony," James said, without looking up from the carving.
"Aye."
"Why does she look sad sometimes? When she doesnae think anyone's watchin'. She just looks at the wall."
He looked at the boy. James was focused on the wood, tongue between his teeth, making a careful cut.
"I daenae ken," Anthony said.
James nodded slowly. "I think she's been alone a long time." He turned the carving over in his fingers and examined it. "Like us."
Anthony sat in the chair a few minutes longer after James's eyes went heavy and closed, the carving still in his loose hand on the blanket.
He lifted it carefully and set it on the table by the candle, and sat in the dark listening to the boy breathe.
Then he went downstairs to supper.
The hall was full.
Not loud, it was never loud since the fire, hadn't been since his father's time. But occupied, the long tables filled, the fire going, the ordinary noise of men eating at the end of a day's work.
He took his seat at the head of the table.
Fergus sat to his left. Donal was three seats down, talking to the man beside him about the eastern ridge. Callum, at the far end,was eating with the focus of a man who had recently run a long patrol and had decided food was the priority.
Catriona was at the middle of the table, beside Mairi.
He didn't look at her directly. He didn't need to.
He was aware of where she was in the room the same way he was aware of any variable that required monitoring. She was at the middle of the table talking to Mairi about something that made Mairi press her hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh.
Fox was under the bench at her feet. Asleep, apparently. Or pretending.
Eidith set a plate in front of him. He nodded.
"The north compound needs the south wall re-mortared before the frost," Donal said, from three seats down. "It'll hold the winter if we do it now. It willnae hold two."
"Tell Seumas. He'll want to look at it first."
"Seumas will tell me it's fine and then complain about it for the next six months."
"Aye. Tell him anyway."
He picked up his knife and ate.
The hall had its usual rhythms around him.
Two of the younger men arguing good-naturedly about something. The fire settling. The sound of plates and cups and ordinary conversation that had filled this room every evening for as long as he could remember, before the fire and after it.
