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“Cousin, I daenae ken I’m the right man for that job,” Fin said.
Col cocked his head. “Why nae?”
Fin finally reached for the pitcher and poured himself half a mug of ale. He swallowed it down, quenching his suddenly parched throat. He did not talk about his feelings well, and he certainly did not like admitting to his shortcomings. Not even to his cousin and most trusted friend. But if he could not speak to Col about these things, who could he speak to about them?
Fin cleared his throat. “B’cause I’m nae smart ‘enough tae dae it, Col. I ken we both ken that.”
Col sat back in his seat and looked at him long and hard. He ran a hand over his face, and an expression of sorrow crossed his features. He raised his head and looked at Fin again.
“Is that th’ way I’ve made ye feel all these years?” he asked.
Fin shook his head. “Ye never made me feel that way. Tis not like ye were doin’ nothin’ tae make me feel dumb.”
“Well, ye arenae dumb, Fin,” he said. “And yer a bleedin’ idiot if ye think so.”
The irony of the statement sunk in, and they looked at each other for a moment, then burst into laughter. It was short-lived, though, and the laughter faded, leaving them sitting there staring at one another.
“There isnae anyone I trust more,” Col said, finally breaking the silence between them. “I need tae ken who did this. And I need tae kill ‘em.”
“Aye. Ye need their ‘eads on pikes,” Fin replied. “I ‘ave nae problem with that.”
Col held his gaze for a long moment. “I need you tae find ‘em, Fin. There is nobody I’d trust more tae dae the job and dae it right.”
Fin sighed. “And who’ll watch yer back while I’m runnin’ all over tryin’ tae find a needle in the bleedin’ haystack?
“What ‘bout Hollis?”
“If I’m gonna dae this, I’d prefer tae take Hollis with me.”
Col nodded. “I understand,” he said. “Then I’ll ‘ave Alastair--”
“Alastair?” Fin cut him off. “He’s a whelp.”
“A whelp ye’ve been trainin’,” Col said. “I’ve seen ‘im ‘andle a blade’n he’s good.”
Fin nodded. It was true. He had taken Alastair under his wing and had been training him. He was a good kid and was definitely capable. But he was still green. Raw. He had a long way to go before Fin would be ready to allow Alastair to shadow Col and charge him with keeping his cousin safe.
“Aye. He’s good,” Fin agreed. “But he’s nae ready.”
Col sighed. “I’m not gonna be leavin’ the keep until Gillian is on ‘er feet again,” he argued. “I’ll be safe ‘nough with Alastair at me back.”
Fin leveled his gaze at him. “If that were true, you wouldnae be sendin’ me out tae find the man who tried tae kill ye.”
Col chuckled. “Fair point, ye bleedin’ arse,” he said. “But Alastair’s a good lad’n good with a blade. I’m comfortable ‘nough with him watchin’ me back.”
The way he said it told Fin the matter had been settled, and he was officially tasked with finding the would-be assassin while Alastair watched his cousin’s back. Fin wasn’t comfortable with the arrangement. There was still a lot Fin needed to teach Alastair before he’d be ready for the assignment he was being given.
But Fin knew Col well enough to know that when his mind was made up, there was little he could do to change it. His cousin was more stubborn than a mule when he got his mind set on something.
“All right then,” Fin said. “I s’pose ye’ve got yer mind made up.”
“I dae,” Col said. “Like I told ye, there’s nobody I trust more.”
The doors to the chamber burst open, and one of the household pages came rushing in, his cheeks flushed and out of breath, carrying a sealed letter in his hand.
“My Laird,” the page said. “A message ‘as arrived from York.”
“Thank you,” Col said as he took the letter and broke the seal on the envelope.
