Page 13 of Highlander’s Wrath

8

‘Tis Best to Tire Him Out

That night, Coira was left alone in bed with her thoughts, which were quick to crowd into her mind with some confusion.

After being her parents’ only child for five years, a certain amount of mature contemplation had been forced on her from an early age. Her mother had kept the young Coira by her side as much as possible, and it had been a natural progression to talk to her wee daughter as though she had the understanding of someone far older—which Coira, in fact, soon did.

This gave her a deeper comprehension of how circumstances stood at Barclay Castle than most other young girls of eight and ten summers old.

Before mounting the stairs up to her bedchamber and bidding Miriam bring her a bowl of pottage for supper, Coira had been able to see how the Barclay household was run at a glance.

After Master Colban’s outrageous comments, Coira had quickly recovered. She said to the outspoken little boy, “Och, ye wee bampot, ye didnae reckon wi’ me speakin’ Gaelic, did ye? Noo, awa’ with ye afore I gi’ ye a skelpit lug.”

Colban’s face had shown a mix of admiration and shock at her words, and he chose to take refuge behind his father’s legs, saying, “I didnae ken, Faither.”

Laird Barclay had laughed loudly and then picked up his errant heir, saying, “The lady has many hidden talents, my boy, so don’ take her at face value.”

Then father and son had gone outside to see that the hired retainers who had helped bring them home were being well looked after by the castle servants, leaving Coira and Miriam to make their way up to the chambers assigned to them next to Colban’s nursery.

That morning, after asking Miriam to dress her in a practical ensemble of wool overgown and homespun chemise, Coira decided to go down to the morning room for breakfast to see how meals were prepared for Colban. She caught a serving maid in the room and asked her, “What foods are taken up to Master Colban in the mornings?”

The serving maid bobbed a curtsy, replying, “Whatever he wants, miss. Eggs, porridge, meats, bannock…that’s if we can get him to sit still long enough to swallow it.”

Coira drank a mug of warm milk and, after grabbing a warm bannock and small pot of honey off the table, made her way up to the nursery to see what wee Master Colban was eating for herself.

A flustered maid was urging Colban to eat a morsel or two when Coira walked in.

“Please, young master,” she pleaded. “It will go hard on me if ye tell yer faither later that ye’re hungry.”

The only reply Colban gave to her plea was an angry shaking of the head.

“You can go back to the kitchen, girl, and take everything but the porridge with you,” Coira said calmly. “And if his lairdship says anything about it later in the day, refer him to me.”

The girl hurried out of the room, a grateful look on her face.

Colban cocked one eye at his new companion.

“I don’ want porridge,” he said.

“You’ll like it well enough after I have sweetened it with some honey for you,” Coira said firmly, taking the pot out of her pocket and pouring a thin stream onto the creamy oats.

Unconvinced, Colban poked at the concoction with his spoon for a bit before daring to take a mouthful. He smiled. “Nice!”

So, he can speak English. I wonder what other talents wee Master Colban is hiding up his sleeve?

She watched as he scraped his bowl clean and then said, “Now, come with me, and bring your bowl with you.”

“Why?” Colban wanted to know.

Coira was used to a steady stream of questions coming from her younger brothers and sisters all the time, but from the way Colban asked his, she was led to believe he was doing it because he was being obdurate.

“Never you mind ‘why,’ just do as I say.”

Colban did not move and stayed firmly seated on his tiny stool by the low table. “Why?” he said again.

Coira said, “Oh dear, how sad. I have such a lovely surprise present for you up in my bedchamber, but it must now stay locked in the chest forever because it is only for those children who are obedient.”

This was all the encouragement Colban needed. Hardly before she had stopped speaking, he had jumped off the stool, picked up the bowl, and run out the door.