“We will stop at the market in Stonehaven before we head to your new friend,” he was saying as he picked at the meat on his platter.
She nodded, enjoying the view of Wiliam licking his long fingers clean of spice.The herbalist had not stocked bog myrtle but vowed to have more when they came through a couple of days hence.Ailith hadn’t missed how the herbalist had looked at her from under hooded eyes.He must have seen her speaking to Teagan, and after Teagan had asked about carline, he must hold suspicions about her and anyone connected to her.
Ailith wasn’t certain what carline or bog myrtle might be used for – she hadn’t studied biology or herbalism on her father’s Dunnottar tours, nor had she learned it in her history classes in college as biology was Julia’s purview – but something significant must be created with it, or when it is combined, for this man to look at her that way.
“I mentioned it to Ailbert.He and Muire will accompany us to Stonehaven and return home on their own.She is looking for some special fabric and a new spindle.She is in a cloth-making mood, if I read her right.Good timing, making clothes before the snows of winter.”
“‘Twill be good to have company on the way.We have no’ exactly been sociable as of late,” Ailith teased as she licked a bit of juice off her fingertips.
William tossed the plate aside and fell to his knees in front of her and tucked his face into the curve of her neck.His naked cock flexed hard, engorged and pressing against her thigh.
“I know why we’ve not been sociable.And I’d no’ be sociable again tonight.”
The ride to Stonehaven was a better one than the wet ride the day before, with barely a mist escorting them to the village.Muire pointed out that, during heavy rains, many market stalls were closed, which frustrated both the vendors and the Keith chieftain who collected the rents.
Stonehaven was one of the largest towns south of Aberdeen, technically on the narrow strip of Keith lands, and Ailith had the idea that this was one of the reasons the MacDougals of Drumoak visited as often as they did.
Another smaller village sat far west in MacDougal lands, with fewer stalls for shopping and smithing, but Ailith had overheard Seocan and Cormag mention the need to see where the Keiths landed after the abrupt removal of the king.Did Callum Keith side with the Morays to continue their own grasp for power?Or did they side with unification and power of the clans?
While Muire chatted about a recent visit from a cousin, Ailith cut her eyes toward Ailbert and William riding in front of them.No wonder the men didn’t hesitate to visit the market.It was a fine ruse to take a measure of the Keiths and perchance overhear their intentions.
More politicking, Ailith thought with an internal sigh.She had hoped the death of the mad king might slow or stop such intrigue, yet it appeared that political difficulties were a never-ending matter for Alba.
They stopped at the scrivener's covered stall first, and William paid for a small set of curled-up parchment, a small clay pot closed with a stopper, and a short quill, which the scrivener had promised to procure for them on their previous visit.Ailith tucked the valuable items into her satchel alongside her mushrooms.
The herbalist recognized her and waved them over.He held up a leather packet with fresh bog myrtle inside.On a whim, she untied the leather thong and sniffed, inhaling the sickly-sweet sap of the leaves.Ailith didn’t know if this was what bog myrtle smelled like, yet she had no other option but to trust him.She accepted it with a pleasant smile and added it to her satchel.
William asked her to wait with Ailbert while he ran down the stalls and returned quickly.
Ailbert and Muire stood across the muddy thoroughfare where Muire was selecting her spindle.Ailbert’s attention, however, was focused beyond the stalls to a narrow alley between two wattle and daub buildings.
William joined him, and his gaze followed Ailith’s.Seeing whatever Ailbert was seeing, he moved next to his brother.In unison, their hands dropped to their sword hilts, and William’s knuckles whitened as he gripped it.His entire body tensed.
She moved behind the men to peer around them.What had them so on edge?
In the alley, a woman holding a basket had been cornered by a scraggly, russet-haired man.She appeared to know him, but her face was a mask of fear.
“I told ye no’ to spend good coin on bread ye should make at home!”the man shouted and slapped the basket from the woman’s hand.
That action was followed by the sound of steel on leather – William had unsheathed his sword and held hissgian-dubhin his other hand.
“I dinna have enough oat flour, Robert!”the deathly pale woman pleaded as she cowered against the wall.
The man’s hand clenched into a fist, and as he lifted it, William and Ailbert moved.
His hand landed on the woman’s cheek as he was yanked backward.Ailbert had grabbed the back of the man’s filthy tunic and threw the man to the ground.In a flash, William stood over him, his sword on the man’s chest.
“What manner of man lays his fist upon a woman?”William demanded.
“Mind your business!‘Tis no’ concern of yours,” the man spat back.
Without hesitation, William swept downward, and with his hand holding the knife, he struck the man in the face.
“Feck!”the man cried out, clasping his hands to his face.“What did ye do that for?”
“How does it feel, ye cretin?”Ailbert asked in a hard voice.
“A man has the right to correct his wife!”
