Page 41 of The Chieftain
After his miserable, cold breakfast, Connor went outside for some blessed fresh air. Nothing like spending time in a dank dungeon to make a man appreciate daylight. He walked along the side of the keep, drawing in deep breaths. As he was about to round the corner, he heard someone speak his name and paused.
“Where do ye suppose the chieftain was?” a woman asked.
He should have known the entire castle would be speculating about his absence.
“Ilysa’s face went all pink when she told us he’d gone to ‘a secret meeting,’ and he didn’t take his guard with him,” a male voice responded. “I’d say that means he was visiting a lass.”
“About time!” another man said, and this was followed by a round of bawdy laughter. “We’ll have to stop calling him Saint Connor.”
“Who’s the lucky lass?” the woman asked.
The names of several women were raised and dismissed in turn.
“He wouldn’t have to ask me twice,” the woman said, which caused loud guffaws.
Connor rubbed his temples as he recognized the woman’s voice as belonging to Flòraidh, a grandmother as round as a turnip.
“He’s keeping it quiet,” the second man said, “so I’d wager ourSaintConnor is fooking another man’s wife!”
It was time to put a stop to this. When Connor stepped around the corner, the three stared at him openmouthed.
“Since ye have time on your hands, you two will take night guard duty for a week,” he said, pointing at the two warriors. Then he turned his glare on Flòraidh. “I’d better have hot porridge on my table tomorrow.”
Connor spent the rest of the morning supervising the men’s practice. Knocking his opponents to the ground for a few hours improved his mood considerably. He felt almost himself again by the time they went in for the midday meal.
The disaster of breakfast was repeated. Cold, tasteless food from the day before was served, and that was soon gone. He had enough troubles without facing them hungry.
Connor was tempted to give Ilysa the punishment she deserved after all: three days and nights in the hole of a dungeon. And no hot food, either. He took a long swallow of his drink and slammed his cup on the table. Even the ale had gone sour.
“Send Ilysa to my chamber,” he ordered Lachlan, who happened to be standing by the door as he left the hall.
Connor paced his chamber, waiting. What in the hell was taking so long? Finally, there was a rap at his door. He turned, prepared to give Ilysa the berating of her life, but it was Lachlan.
“I couldn’t find her,” Lachlan said.
“Then look harder.”
“Ilysa is not here.”
“I suppose someone in one of the nearby cottages needed a healer.” Connor hoped she had the sense not to go alone. “The moment she returns, I want to see her.”
“Ilysa has gone from Trotternish,” Lachlan said. “She sailed before dawn for Dunscaith Castle.”
“No, that can’t be.” Connor stopped his pacing. “Ilysa couldn’t sail a boat to Dunscaith by herself.”
“Niall took her in that small galley,” Lachlan said.
Two could sail the galley they had stolen from Shaggy Maclean. “How do ye know this?” Connor demanded.
“Cook was the only one Ilysa told, and it wasn’t easy getting it from him,” Lachlan said, looking uncomfortable.
“What do ye mean, it wasn’t easy?” Connor said, narrowing his eyes at Lachlan. He did not approve of his warriors being rough with the servants.
“Ach, the man is a blubbering mess, weeping like a babe,” Lachlan said, making a face. “I told him that’s no way for a MacDonald to behave, but it did no good. I expect supper will be no better than breakfast and dinner were.”
Connor went to the window to look out at the sea. Niall was a fine sailor, but they would be passing lands held by the MacLeods, which was dangerous with just the two of them.
Why did they go?Connor did not realize he had spoken the question aloud until Lachlan answered it.
