His spirits lifted. Mayhap this presented an opportunity to smooth over the harsh feelings between himself and the MacDonald. But his hopes were dashed as Harris, catching sight of him as he entered, rose to his feet, dipped his head to the Elders and strode from the hall, nodding to him briefly.
“Harris was here tae discuss his forthcoming nuptials with the Lady Tyra. The lad wishes to bring the date forward,” Tormod informed him, once they had greeted each other.
“Oh?” Edmund tilted his head, waiting to hear more.
Edmund surmised that it was his and Annora’s presence here and the threat they presented to Harris’s leadership, that had him wishing to marry sooner.
“And what was decided?”
The old men both shook their heads. “Naught was decided. We told him that decision would be the laird’s, and if ye were taeaccept it, it would be up tae ye alone tae agree or disallow his request.”
Edmund laughed loudly at that. “So, that explains the black thunder on his face when he passed me just now. I daresay that was nay what he wished tae hear.”
Tormod nodded. “Mayhap that was so, yet it is clan law. The laird must approve any family marriages.”
“But surely Baldur approved the marriage before he died?”
“Aye. He approved, and the date was set. Now Harris must have approval before the date can be changed.”
“I see.”
Gilleasbuig joined in. “Hence the question of whether ye are tae become the new laird.”
Tormod looked over. “Are ye any closer tae making a decision, Edmund? I wonder how yer heart and head are taking tae our land and people.”
“Me heart warms daily tae the MacNeacail Clan and the beauty of the land, yet it daesnae settle. There is still much I need tae discover tae understand where I fit in the scheme of things. I ken me maither took me tae Mull without his blessing, yet I ken naught of her, or what she was doing so far from Sinclair Clan lands.”
Gilleasbuig nodded. “There is a long history tae be unwound, Edmund, and there is some gladness and much melancholy in the tale. Ye deserve tae ken everything.”
—
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Edmund’s mouth went dry and his palms were damp. He was about to hear a revelation that might help to bring him some further understanding of who he was, and settle the demons that had haunted him almost all his life
“She’s an old woman now,” Tormod was saying. “Too stiff in the joints these days fer a midwife. She resides in the village wi’ her daughter, the healer, who is married tae a fisherman. They share a large brood of children.”
“Will she remember me maither?”
“Och, aye, lad. She kens more than anyone, yet she’s ne’er breathed a word tae a soul of what she kent. She told yer father as much as Elizabeth wanted him tae ken, but even she didnae ken where yer maither had taken ye. There was one lad who admitted he’d taken her and her wean to the east, to the mainland. Baldur assumed she’d gone back to her clan, the Sinclairs, and his men searched fer more than a year, combingall the countryside between here and Lothian. But nay trace or word of her was ever discovered.”
