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The girls. The provisioner. Her friends.
“They’re dead?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“We dinnae ken yet,” Ceit replied, grabbing her by the arm and physically pulling her toward the door. “ALL we ken is that we need to get us and as many people as possible out of here. Naewhere in Bailedún is gonnae be livable after tonight, nae even here.”
“What about the people?” Anabella asked desperately, tripping as she followed her mother down the winding stairway to where the servants and her brother and father waited downstairs. “What about our people, Maither?”
Pain shot across Ceit’s face as they reached the others, and she fell into Ringean’s waiting arms. Calum hurried forward and grabbed his sister’s hand, half giving reassurance and half seeking comfort, suddenly looking much younger than his five-and-ten years.
Anabella clutched his hand in comfort but turned to her father to demand answers. “Where are our people, Faither? Where are the people who didnae make it?”
“Some of the townsmen are volunteerin’ to stay behind and try to salvage who or what we can from the wreckage of the Nether District,” Ringean told her in a quiet, distraught voice. “Soon enough, the Upper District will be overwhelmed and all, though we’re nae expectin’ it to be so bad as it is down below,”
“Where will they go?” Calum asked fretfully.
Anabella squeezed her brother’s hand again. The boy had always been gentle, sweeter than most other lads his age. He had a soft heart, and he wore it on his sleeve. Anabella loved him more than anyone else alive, even her parents, who she adored.
The Laird and his wife exchanged looks before Ceit said gently, “We’re expectin’ the upper floors of this Castle to be all right. It will nae be livable as its meant to function. Still, if they barricade themselves in the upper floor and are willin’ to get a bit cold and damp, then the rescuers can probably survive.”
“And where will we go?” Anabella asked faintly.
“To whoever can take us, with as many of the women and children as we can,” Ceit told her. “They’re waitin’ outside the Castle gates as we speak.”
Then she did something very unlike her. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and kissed him, openly and passionately. Even more strangely, Ringean held her tightly and kissed her back equally as fiercely, right there in front of all the servants.
What is this? Are they sayin’…farewell?
It wasn’t that her parents didn’t love each other–they did, rather a lot–but that they never showed such public displays of affection. To them, the appearance of proprietary was critical. Anabella had inherited it, too; it was one of the reasons she had turned down some of the rougher men who had asked for her hand.
“Are ye nae comin’ with us, Faither?” Calum asked uncertainly.
He shook his head. “I am Laird of Galloway. I owe it to the people of Bailedún and the people of the entire Clan to help when I can. I’m sendin’ some of the survivors off with our soldiers to the Clan outskirts to see if any of the rest of our people can take them in. Ye’ll take fifty with ye to try to rehome, mostly bairns with their Maithers.”
Calum shook his head almost violently. “Nay. If ye’re to stay, then so am I. I’ll help ye.”
Ringean crouched so that he and Calum were face to face, placing his hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders. “Nay. Ye will nae. I ken ye’re almost a man grown, but I have an important task for ye. I need ye to be the big lad I ken ye are and take care of the ladies for me. Ye’ll be the Laird one day. Can ye do it?”
Calum swallowed, and Anabella could feel his hand shaking where she still held it, but he nodded. “Aye, Faither,” he said solemnly. “Aye. I’ll do it. And when ye get to wherever we’re goin’, ye’ll be right proud of me.”
“I’m always proud of ye. Of both of ye,” Ringean said, looking at Anabella as well.
Anabella’s eyes were itchy with tears. “Ye dinnae need to stay here, Faither. Ye dinnae–”
“I do, and ye ken it,” Ringean said firmly. He leaned into her now and whispered in her ear. “Take care of yer wee brother.”
She nodded, trying not to cry, and together she, her family, and the castle servants turned to leave her father behind to the rising water.
As they braced against the wind and the impossibly heavy rain, fifty or so townspeople behind them, Anabella couldn’t help but grimly wonder.
Will I ever see me Faither alive again?
She could not be sure, of course, but she also couldn’t shake a terribly familiar feeling as they rode away. It was a dark feeling that she’d only felt once before…the same thing she’d felt when she left the kirkyard after her grandmother’s funeral.
To Anabella, it felt like Bailedún was now filled with graves.
