Page 2 of Highland Sky

“That it is,” said Storm with a chuckle. “Well, Grandda, I guess North hasna broken yer number one rule after all.”

“Mmmph,” grumbled Callum, yanking at the end of the rule list, and letting go. It rolled up with a snap and made a full circle. Callum hobbled back to the drink board. “All right then. Let’s get this over with, so these fools can leave and I can tend to my patrons.” Callum looked around the room. “Where is my son, Ian?” he asked.

“Da is upstairs restin’.” Storm took another swig of whisky. “He’s no’ feelin’ well again. We’ll have to continue without him.”

“What’s wrong with Ian?” asked Gavin in concern. “He’s been ill for a while now, but no one can tell me what ails him.”

“We’re no’ sure,” said Storm, looking down at his tankard. “My wife has tried everythin’ with herbal concoctions, but he doesna seem to be improvin’.”

“Is it a bout with his stomach?” asked Gavin.

“Or is it his head?” Nash wondered. Their chieftain, Ian, didn’t seem to be in the right mind lately, in Nash’s opinion.

“It’s no’ the sweatin’ sickness is it?” asked North, giving a fake shiver.

“Boys, what I am about to tell ye, must stay here and no’ be repeated.” Storm looked very upset. “My faither is havin’ trouble grippin’ a sword, and sometimes even walkin’. At times, his mind doesna even seem to be there.”

“Why didna someone wake me?” shouted Ian, hurrying down the stairs from one of the upstairs rooms. “I need to be here. I am the chieftain.” When he got to the bottom of the stairs, it was as if he tripped, although there was nothing in his way. Gavin shot forward, being the closest one to him, grabbing him under one arm. “Let go of me,” spat Ian. “I dinna need yer help.” He pushed Gavin’s hand away.

“I’m sorry, my laird, but ye stumbled. I didna want ye to fall onto this . . . dirty floor,” he finished, trying to lessen the situation, but only managing to infuriate Callum instead.

“Dirty floor?” spat Callum. “My tavern is one of the cleanest around! If ye think this floor is so dirty, then mayhap I should have ye and yer friends wash it!” Callum’s pride was wounded, and it looked like Nash and his friends were going to pay for just trying to help their chieftain.

“He didna mean dirty. He just meant . . . bumpy,” said Nash, not able to think of anything else.

“Bumpy?” Callum made a sour face. “Humph! Is that what ye think?”

“Stop tryin’ to help,” North whispered to Nash. “Next thing ye ken, the madman will be makin’ us no’ only wash the floor, but rebuild it, too.”

“Did I hear somethin’ about a madman?” Aidan MacKeefe, one of their clansmembers called madman for his crazy, dangerous antics, joined them with his pet squirrel, Reid, perched on his shoulder. His “madmen” friends, Onyx and Ian, were with him. Ian’s deerhound, Kyle, was at his side. The dog reminded Nash of a small horse.

“Aye, if anyone is goin’ to be called a madman besides us, I dinna ken how I like that.” Ian ran a hand over his hound’s head. It was so large that when it stood on its back legs it was the same height as he. Ian was a common name in Scotland, and this madman shared the same name as their chieftain.

“North, were ye callin’ me a madman?” asked Callum.

“Nay,” both North and Nash said together, looking down at the drink board rather than at the old man.

“What’s this I hear that ye four are outcasts of the clan now?” asked the third of the Madmen MacKeefe, Onyx. Onyx was the craziest-looking of the three friends, with one orange eye and the other of black. Some even called him the devil.

“Cam and I are no’ outcasts anymore,” said Gavin. “We’ve worked off our sentences.”

“We’ve worked them off as well,” grumbled Nash, not happy that each time one of his friends got a punishment, he and North were punished as well, it seemed.

“Aye, my brathair and I probably did more of a sentence by now than both Gavin and Cam put together,” scoffed North.

“That’s nothin’ compared to what I have in store for ye two.” Callum actually sneered and rubbed his palms together. It seemed he was really enjoying this, and that worried Nash more than anything else.

“Which of us will have our sentence next?” asked Nash, hoping it was him so he could get it over with quickly and get back to being a clansmember soon. He didn’t like being an outcast, and missed spending time with the MacKeefes.

Before Callum could answer, Aidan’s squirrel scurried down his arm, jumping atop the drink board. It chattered at the dog, as if it were purposely antagonizing the hound. Then Ian’s hound jumped up and put its paws atop the counter, barking like crazy. The squirrel took off at a run over the counter, knocking over an empty cup along the way as the dog tried to catch the squirrel.

“How many times have I told ye no’ to bring yer doitit pets in here?” yelled Callum, his arms waving over his head now.

“I’m sorry. Reid got spooked.” Aidan tried to grab the squirrel, but it jumped up, climbing the wall to the rafters next.

“Come on, Kyle, let’s go before Old Callum gives us a punishment, too.” Ian grabbed his hound by the scruff of the neck and headed away.

“I hope yer dang wildcat isna in here as well, Onyx,” Callum said with fire blazing in his eyes.