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Kade's voice was solemn when he said, "If this tincture o' yers doesna stop him drinkin', I'll ha'e to banish him. I'll no' ha'e him abusin' the servants and soldiers, and he can no' control himself when he drinks."
Averill nodded quietly, but merely asked, "How is your father?"
"He hasna touched a drop all day...but 'tis only one day, wife," Kade cautioned. "He could be back askin' fer it on the morrow."
"Aye." She sighed and wondered what it was about the drink that held them in such sway. Were their lives truly so retched they would rather drink themselves to unconsciousness than face it? Life was hard, but as nobles, theirs was better than most, and many would trade places with them in a heartbeat--men and women who quite literally worked their fingers to the bone, for little or no reward. The funny thing was those people were probably happier than Brodie and Kade's father, with all their advantages. It made no sense to her.
Kade's suddenly stiffening beside her drew Averill from her thoughts. She glanced at him curiously, then followed his gaze to Domnall to find his eyes open and peering around with confusion. Averill immediately stood to pick up the mug of mead on the bedside table. She'd had it brought up hours ago, and it was no doubt warm now, but she doubted if Domnall would care.
When she turned to the bed with the mead, Kade immediately moved around the bed to assist her in feeding it to him by slipping an arm under him to lift him upright.
Averill murmured a thank-you and pressed the mug to Domnall's lips, and said, "Drink."
The man looked as if he were about to protest, but then simply opened his mouth for her to tip some liquid in.
"Thank ye, me lady," the Scot whispered after the fourth sip.
Averill straightened and set the mug on the table again, then bent to feel his forehead. There was no sign of fever. She straightened and nodded at her husband.
"Can ye talk?" Kade immediately asked the man.
"Aye," Domnall said on a sigh.
"Where are Ian and Angus?"
"Dead," was the grim answer.
Averill's eyes shot to her husband with worry, noting that he looked as if the man had punched him in the gut. The blood had rushed out of his face, and he sank to sit on the side of the bed. Dismay and loss flashed across his face, then he schooled his features, and grimly asked, "How?"
"'Twas after leavin' yer uncle's. We'd stopped to collect yer chest as ye asked--" Domnall paused to frown, then said, "Someone must ha'e kenned what was in it. We were attacked that night when we made camp. I woke to find a sword in me belly and a man standin' over me."
"Did ye recognize him?" Kade asked grimly and Averill didn't envy the man if Domnall did know who it was. Her husband looked cold and grim, and she had no doubt he would exact revenge. She was almost relieved when Domnall said, "Nay. He was a Scot though. At least, he wore the plaid."
He paused to lick his lips, and added, "I heard Ian and Angus screamin', then I blacked out. I am no' sure how much later it was when I woke up. 'Twas daylight, but it may ha'e been the next day, or the one after that. All I ken is the chest was gone, Ian and Angus were dead, and I felt sure I would soon be, too. Still, I bound mesel' up the best I could, buried them both, and rode for here."
"They left the horses?" Kade asked with surprise.
"I think they took the other two, but Ian's beast was there." He grimaced. "Contrary animal that he is, he probably threw whoever tried to ride him and returned to his master as Ian trained him to do. He was standing there eating grass when I woke up. I managed to mount him and head this way, but his left flank was troublin' him, and he wouldna travel at more than a walk." He sighed. "Still, 'twas better than me tryin' to make it on foot, but he threw me this mornin' as we reached Stewart land. It started me wound bleedin' again...and I thought I was fit to die when I heard voices. When I recognized that the voices were English, I at first feared I'd got mesel' turned around, had gone the wrong way and was back in England, but then I recognized Lady Averill's voice and..." He shrugged, not bothering to finish the rest.
Kade sighed and sat back slightly on the bed.
Averill hesitated, wanting to comfort him, but there was no comfort. She knew Kade had been quite fond of his cousin, Ian. So had Will been. Her brother had told her the three men had shared a cell while imprisoned. Thinking of her brother made her sigh. He would wish to hear this news.
"Shall I go fetch Will and Aidan?" she asked quietly.
When Kade nodded, she glanced to Domnall. "Are you hungry? Can you stomach food?"
"Aye," he said with a sigh. "I've had not but berries and whatever else I could find for days."
"Then I shall fetch you a meal," she said quietly, and turned to leave the room.
Aidan and Will were talking quietly at the trestle tables when she reached the great hall. Averill told them Domnall was awake, grateful when they asked no questions in their rush to get above stairs and see him for themselves. It may have been cowardly, but she had not wished to impart the news he'd had regarding Ian and Angus and would rather leave it to Kade or Domnall to tell them.
In her upset, Averill was nearly to the kitchen before she noted the clean, fresh rushes underfoot. Pausing, she turned to survey the great hall, noting that they covered the entire floor. It seemed that while the men had stopped gathering them once Domnall had appeared, they had gathered enough beforehand to do the job. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. There had been thirty men working at it, and most diligently.
The room looked much better for it, though the walls were in need of a good whitewashing, she noted, glancing over them. And furniture was needed, and the tapestries needed cleaning, and...
Averill let her thoughts die there. The smell was gone and the floor clean. The rest could wait for another day.
Turning, she continued to the kitchens, pushing through the door, only to pause at the sight of a gaggle of men and women gathered around talking noisily.
"Oh, me lady!" Morag rushed over the moment she spotted her in the door. "Is there somethin' yer needin'? Would ye like yer sup now? 'Tis well past the dinner hour. Everyone else has eaten, and I asked the laird should I bring ye a tray. He said no to trouble mesel' to bring it above stairs, he'd send ye below for a break were ye hungry and sit with Domnall a bit himsel', but when ye didna come below, I thought mayhap ye'd fallen asleep and he hadna the heart to wake ye."
Av
erill blinked at the rush of words and managed a smile. "Aye. Nay. I came for--" She shook her head and tried again. "Who are all these people?"
"They are the first of the servants to return," Morag said with a smile as she glanced over the chattering crowd. Bess was among them, but none of them, not even she, had noticed Averill's arrival.
"Oh." Averill peered over the crowd curiously, then asked, "Why are they all in here?"
"Oh, well, they've been askin' about ye and the laird, and we've been reassurin' them all'd be well, and they should stay."
"And bribing them with Lily's pastries, I see," she said with amusement, as Lily set a tray of the delicious treats on the counter and people crowded in to get some.
"We've put some away fer ye and Domnall," Morag assured her, then added on a sigh, "If he wakes to eat them."
"Oh." Recalled to her reason for being there, she assured her, "He is awake. I came to fetch him food."
"Oh!" Morag positively beamed. "Awake and hungry. That's a good sign."
"Aye," Averill agreed. It was a very good sign. The man would be up and about in no time.
"I shall fix him a tray, then fix another and put it on the table fer you for when ye return," she said, bustling around and gathering meat and cheese and bread for Domnall. But suddenly she paused to glance at her, and asked, "Or would ye rather ha'e it in yer room? 'Twould be no trouble to run it up if yer weary from tendin' Domnall."
When Averill hesitated, tempted by the offer, she nodded and went back to work saying, "I shall run it up fer ye."
"Thank you, Morag," she said with real gratitude. "I appreciate the trouble."
"I tol' ye, 'tis no trouble," Morag assured her, then finished her task and presented her with Domnall's tray. "I'll bring yer own tray up in a jiffy."
"Thank you," Averill repeated, and moved to the door, only to thank the woman again when she appeared at her side to open it for her.
After the noise in the kitchen, the great hall seemed sadly silent, and Averill glanced around wondering why they were not out here talking, but then her gaze fell on the only two benches at the trestle tables that remained intact and realized there was nowhere for them to sit. Besides, while some of them had returned, they were probably leery of Brodie and his father drinking and coming down to cause a ruckus. She suspected it would be a while before any of them was comfortable enough to relax in the great hall again. Perhaps once Brodie was straightened out or banished, Averill thought as she mounted the stairs.
