9
“It was a rough winter, me Laird,” said the man standing before them. He was young, only a little older than River herself, with an unruly mop of red hair and skin reddened from the sun. “Production has increased now but we have nae reserves until we can harvest this crop. And it’s nae only me...it’s everyone in the village.”
There were a few murmurs of assent among the peasants who had come to the castle, and River could only assume they were all from the same village—or perhaps more than one village was facing the same problem.
“The frost,” said the man next to him, “it killed the last of the harvest last autumn and then we had an issue with the pests, as ye ken. We daenae have enough food to last us.”
“Did we nae give them supplies?” Archer asked Keir, who was standing right behind him, in a low voice. Only River heard him, and only River heard Keir’s response when he leaned closer to speak in Archer’s ear.
“We did,” he said. “This is the third time they come here to ask for help.”
“Then that means they need more,” River pointed out. “It means we havenae given them enough.”
“There was plenty of grain,” said Keir and then he straightened again, looking at the two men. “What happened to the sacks of grain we gave ye?”
“Our village has grown, sir,” said the first man. “Many merchants pass through and many men and women have come to find their fortune here. Many more bairns, too.”
“Since the last time we visited?” asked Keir.
“Och aye,” said the man. “We have doubled in the last six months.”
“Then a visit to yer village is necessary,” said River. “We must welcome those who have come and we must see what we can do to help.”
The entire Great Hall fell silent. River felt every eye in the room on her, watching, scrutinizing. When she turned to Archer to see if he, too, was looking at her, she indeed found him staring with a small frown between his brows.
Was he mad she had taken over? But isn’t this why he had brought her here in the first place?
Or am I meant to be silent, seen by his side but unheard?
That was not something that River would allow. She had been keeping herself away from household matters for the past year but if Archer wanted her here, by his side, then she was not going to be silent.
“Aye, that’s true,” said Archer. “If things have changed so rapidly, we must support the village in any way we can. Keir, give the men some grain and arrange for a visit.”
“Aye, me Laird,” said Keir, and immediately turned around to begin arranging everything for them.
More peasants came, along with some merchants and clansmen. Their complaints ranged from food scarcity to difficult travels through the mountains and from the presence of English troops to the weakening of their positions as English oppression persisted. River listened to them all and helped where she could. Though she had always been aware of the political strife in the Highlands, she had never known just how dire the situation was. Clansmen were losing their positions. Men were forcibly drafted into the English army. Clan bonds weakened and those who were even suspected for rebellion were taken and tortured.
And the more River sat there, the more she paled, her heartbeat stuttering with every tale of atrocity she heard.
We must vow to never let these people suffer again.
And yet she felt so helpless. What was there for her to do? How could she fight the entire English army? Not even Archer could do that; not on his own.
So, she helped where she could, handing out grain from the castle’s reserves, promising to train more healers for the far-off villages, and taking note of every problem she and Archer could fix together.
By the end of it, she was exhausted, trying to keep track of every single grievance, no matter how small. As the people filed out of the Great Hall, Archer offered her his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, River took it.
“Ye did well today,” he said as he led her out of the room from the back door. “I was...impressed. For someone who doesnae involve herself in such matters, ye certainly ken what to do.”
“I was trained,” River said with a small shrug. “I sat with me faither sometimes and, later, with me brother. They wanted me to ken how to please the people.”
“And please them ye have,” said Archer, before leaning closer. Though in this small corridor that led to the northern wing, there was no one but the two of them, the gesture still felt entirely too intimate. “And ye have pleased me.”
Heat exploded in River’s core—and her cheeks. Archer’s breath ghosted over her face, making her own hitch in her throat. She looked up at him and immediately realized it was a mistake.
He was looking right into her eyes, as if he could see into the very depths of her; as if he could see right into her thoughts.
“I must go,” River mumbled, pushing past Archer. She didn’t even give him an excuse; she couldn’t come up with one, not when she was so flustered.
