Elise sagged against her pillows. Everyone was okay. Thank God for that. She wasn’t sure she could bear it if anyone had been hurt on her watch. Memories of her power raging through her sent a sudden shiver down her spine. She’d never experienced anything like that before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to again. She’d felt so strong. Invincible. Like she could remake the world if she chose.
And she recognized all too well the dangerous road that might lead her down.
“They knew we were coming,” she murmured. “Itwasa trap all along.”
“Aye,” Jamie agreed. “It was.” He blew out a breath and turned to stare into the fire. “I was a fool. A vain, arrogant fool. I should have taken yer advice and not gone out there today. Because of my arrogance, I could have lost my entire crew.” His eyes were full of self-recrimination. “And I could have lost ye.”
“But you didn’t. All’s well that ends well, right? And if we hadn’t gone, what would have become of those lads we rescued from the rocks?”
He grimaced. “I know. It’s just that…just that…” He shrugged helplessly. His fingers curled into fists and a vein began throbbing in his temple. “I feel so damned helpless. Every decision I make turns to shite. What kind of chieftain am I if I canna keep my people safe?”
“One who’s trying his best. That’s all any of us can do.”
His eyes found hers and a faint, wry smile curled his lips. “Perhaps. But my best needs to be better.”
Elise said nothing. There was something they were missing in all this, she could feel it. Those pirates had known where to go, and Jamie himself had been their target. Why? What did they hope to gain?
“Are pirate ships normally so well equipped?” she asked. “Do they normally carry cannon?”
“No. But that ship could have been a navy vessel that they’d captured and taken for their own.”
“Maybe. But you told me that every time they attack, they disappear without a trace, more quickly than your own fleet can track them. That suggests their base must be close by. Somewhere on the island.”
“That was my thinking too. But I’ve scoured every inch of the coastline, and all the uninhabited islets within striking distance. There is nothing. It’s like they vanish into thin air.”
That didn’t feel right. Nothing about this whole situation felt right. What was she missing? What was she not seeing?
“I’ll leave ye to rest,” Jamie said.
“I don’t need rest; I need to act,” Elise replied. Yet even as she said the words, she felt fatigue flooding through her again. “All right,” she conceded. “Just a little nap.”
She didn’t even hear Jamie close the door behind him.
*
“Is this allof it?” Jamie asked.
He reached out, took a handful of grain in his hand, and slowly let it run through his fingers and back into the sack that stood open before him. More sacks filled the barn, and the air was thick with the yeasty smell of it.
“That’s all of it,” Phillip MacClelland replied. He held a bit of parchment in one hand and a pair of thick lenses sat on the bridge of his nose—an Italian invention that he’d picked up on his last visit to Rome. He claimed they allowed his old eyes to see better.
Jamie straightened from his crouch and faced his advisor. “It isnae enough.”
Phillip rolled his eyes, the movement pulling the burned skin by his eye tight. “That’s what I’ve been telling ye for the past hour. We are well short of what we need to get us through the winter. Even if we begin rationing, it willnae last.”
“Ye’ve tallied all the other grain stores and barns? Ye havenae missed any?”
Phillip gave him a look that suggested his laird was asking stupid questions. “Aye, I’ve tallied them all. And not just me. I’ve had Andrea check as well. The grain stores. The root cellars. The dried meat and smoked fish stocks. All are short. We have to face facts, Jamie. We dinna have enough stores to make it through the winter.”
Jamie let forth a string of expletives that would have had his old tutors cuffing his ears. “Then what are we to do?”
“Firstly, we should cancel the harvest celebration. We canna afford such excess, not with the stores as they are.”
“Cancel the most anticipated event of the year? The people would likely string me up!”
Phillip waved hand. “Hard decisions have to made in times like these. The people will understand.”
Aye, they might. But Jamie was reluctant to follow Phillip’s advice. The harvest dance was a tradition that went back further than anyone could remember. It was a time when the people of Islay got together to celebrate the bounty of the harvest—such as it was—and mark the turning of the year towards the colder, darker months. It was a time when friendships were renewed,old grudges were forgotten, and where the young men and women of the island went on the hunt for their future partners.
