A SURPRISING DIFFICULTY
Brodgar woke early, looking out onto a gray landscape. He shrugged his shirt over his head, flexed his legs as he drew on wool trews, and splashed his face in the basin.
If breakfast is anything like dinner, I'm happy.
He shook his head at himself, grinning at his reflection. He had never expected himself to be that naughty. It was her – she was irresistible.
He combed his hair, inspected his reflection and headed to the solar.
The family was at breakfast, but the seat opposite Ettie was occupied by Terry Knott, the chief forester. It was not overly-surprising to see him at breakfast with them – his father kept an informal hall and if he had business with his woodsmen or a merchant, he would sometimes breakfast with them.
“You would have enjoyed the old trail through the woods, milady,” the man was saying. Dark-haired, dark-eyed with a wicked grin, Terry Knott was perhaps ten years Brodgar's senior but actually handsome. He was surprised by the stab of insecurity he felt as Ettie giggled.
“Well, Mister Knott,” she smiled warmly. “I trust you've up-kept better trails?”
“Oh, aye,” the man agreed. “The best ones are still fine maintained. Her ladyship said the one to the ford is good, did you not, my lady?”
Brodgar relaxed as his warm eyes settled on his mother. She replied softly.
“You do your work well, Mister Knott. The trail is good.”
Whew, Brodgar thought, seeing the man visibly subside. Mother can be withering.
He was glad he wasn't on her bad side and felt sympathy for Ettie, who had been enduring her cold shoulder, more or less, since she arrived. He smiled winningly at her. “Mother, you still plan to hawk this year?”
“I do,” she smiled. “I'm out of practice,” she added. “But I hope to improve. If some of you ladies will accompany me when the weather warms?”
Brodgar felt his heart lift as her eyes focused on Ettie, who nodded.
“I am fond of hawking, my lady,” she agreed. “I hear you keep a fine mews here?”
“We do,” Amabel agreed. “I'm sure you'll manage to make friends with our fine hawks before long.”
“I'd like to.”
As Brodgar saw the growing warmth, if tentative, between the two women in his life, he relaxed. He hadn't been aware of how much their awkwardness had been wearing on him until now.
“I want to go too,” Amice said. “We'll both be getting used to something,” Amice smiled, “for I know the hawks but haven't hunted before.”
“I'm sure you'll learn very easily.”
Brodgar was glad Ettie and his sister were friends. He looked at Chrissie, who was nodding.
“I'd ask Alf to take the hawks out too,” Blaine said. “He's always been better than I with such things.”
Chrissie smiled at him fondly. “You trained my hawk, Blaine.”
“Which is why she's half wild. Which makes me think of Alf. Where's he?”
Chrissie frowned. “Maybe he's feeling poorly.”
“If he's given himself a cold,” Alina began, making them all laugh. “I'll have his guts for garters.”
Brodgar grinned. At the same time, a prickle of unease ran down him. What if Alf...no, he wouldn't.
He couldn't possibly have left already. He wouldn't do that, would he? They had agreed to wait until before the gathering. They'd hardly planned. He still hadn't found his maps! Surely, he was in the castle, still asleep.
“Brodgar?”
“Yes, Aunt?”
“You recently rode to the cliff path. Was it crumbling?”
“No,” Brodgar said, feeling distracted. “It was still solid a week ago. Why, Aunt?”
“Just checking,” Alina said. “I have a feeling we should reinforce the top section. Mister Knott? What say you?”
“It's started crumbling, milady,” Mr. Knott acknowledged. “I'm sending a team of lads up there later this week. If you think we should go sooner, I'll do so.”
“I think you should go tomorrow,” Alina observed. “There's rain coming. You don't want it getting down the cracks in the rock and freezing.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Brodgar watched the exchange, never failing to be amazed both by his aunt's gift and people's acceptance. Mr. Knott had, admittedly, worked here for a decade, so he doubtless knew of the lady and her gift.
As the conversation died down again, he found himself worrying. He glanced across at Ettie and her shy smile lit his thoughts.
I wish I was sitting opposite her and not the forester. If I was there, I'd reach under the table and...
“So,” his father was saying, leaning back. “I should go. Mr. Knott? Should we head down to business? If you've eaten?”
“Aye, milord. Eaten fit tae bust.”
They all chuckled. Brodgar smiled at his father as he left, and the man winked on the way out.
When he had gone, Lady Amabel cleared her throat. “I need to consult with the cook,” she said. “We need to plan for the gathering...which reminds me. Anyone have any requests? Favorite dishes they'd not miss?”
That comment brought a tumult of comments, as Brodgar expected it would. As the family argued good-naturedly over the merit of turnips over onions, or whether they should fish for salmon or use some reserves of ham, he found his thoughts straying to Alf.
Where is he? He looked around and stood. “Excuse me, Mother, aunts, uncles. Sister and Lady Ettie. I'm off upstairs.”
“Drop by the kitchen later,” Amabel said. “I want to ask you about the stock...”
“Yes, Mother,” Brodgar nodded. He inclined his head in a little bow and left.
In the corridor, his footsteps carried him straight to Alf's chamber. He walked through the stone chambers, scarce seeing them, his mind seething.
If he's gone now, then he's in danger. He'll never get in there without some help. Not in daylight. And if he waits until nightfall, how will he get away? Does he even have spare boots? Alf, you madman...
He threw open the door, wishing beyond his wildest wishes that Alf would be in there in bed, the coverlets pulled up to his chin. He looked in. “Alf?”
His worst fears took wing. His bed was made. His things packed. His cloak missing.
Brodgar turned in the small space. He looked around. “Alf?”
Maybe he was in the loft. Maybe just left now? Maybe he was riding?
He sighed. He knew he'd gone. He was silly to fool himself.
“You madman. You crazy, foolish, daring...” he sighed. He didn't know in that moment if he'd slap him or clap him on the shoulder, commending him. To be like Alf – so wild, so free-spirited...it was at once a massive gift and a risk.
He took a last look round. Then he made a decision.
He could either do nothing and hope Alf would succeed, or he could ride off. Go after him. He had no idea when he'd left. If he’d left at sunrise, he could be anywhere. He would have had a good hour's head start, at least. There was no chance.
“It's useless to ride after him.”
He turned to the door. Failing that, there was only one other thing he could do.
Aunt Alina. I could ask her what she foresees. At least we can do something then to avert it.
If this would mean war – and it very well could – foreknowledge was essential. He sighed.
“The fool!”
He wanted to hit Alf just then. His wildness had jeopardized Dunkeld. What was Lord Broderick going to say? He had agreed to make arrangements, so why did Alf have to go and do this now?
He sighed. Alf had his own reasons. In his heart, Brodgar knew Alf was thinking of him, as well as himself. It was a mad, beautiful gesture – risking it all for Ambeal, and for his friend.
If he leaves now, I can marry Ettie. It's just possible he did this for me too.
The knowledge was burdensome. Brodgar sighed. All he could do was consult the seer. If his father should be involved, they'd involve him.
I don't want to alarm him if he doesn't need to be alarmed. Mayhap her father won't suspect me. Mayhap nothing bad will happen. I cannot know. Sweating with worry, he went to find Alina.
“Aunt Alina?” He tiptoed to the solar. He could still smell oats and bannocks from breakfast. The room was silent, only old Gwenny, the housekeeper, moving plates. The sound eased his racing heart, filling him with childhood memories. The old lady turned when she heard him entering.
“Yes, lordling?”
Brodgar smiled at the endearment – she'd always called him that. Again it eased his tension. Strangely, even though he was itching to find his aunt and solve this mystery, he still found talking with old Gwenny eased his mind.
“Have you seen the lady Alina?”
“Upstairs, lordling. 'Swere she usually is of a morn. Still-room business.”
“Yes. Thank you, Gwenny.”
“Yes, lordling.”
He gave her a wry grin. Then, feeling anxious again, he headed off. Went upstairs. His steps were hurried – the thought of Alf and what he was about to unleash gave him a fresh burst of speed. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, a light sweat had broken out on his forehead.
“I can hear you,” Alina said, her back to the door. She was wearing a light blue dress, which was the only reason he saw her in the shadow. “Just a moment...I'm straining this.”
“Aunt! I need your help.”
“In a minute...ah. There. Yes, nephew? What is so urgent?”
“It's Alf!” Brodgar said. “He's gone.”
“Gone.” Alina looked at him, black eyes flat.
“Yes!” Brodgar knew his voice was tight with panic, but didn't have time to change it. “He's...he's doing something wild, Aunt.”
“Wild?” Aunt Alina walked to stand beside him, pulled the door shut behind them. Motioned him to her stool behind the high bench, scented with wild herbs and myrrh. “Now. Tell me.”
“He's gone to Bronley, Aunt. To take the thane's daughter.”
“Bronley. Ambeal.”
“Yes.”
To his absolute surprise, she smiled. “Now that is interesting.”
“Interesting!” Brodgar felt as if he was about to go apoplectic. “Aunt! There could be war! If the thane comes here seeking her...what?” He sighed, as, to his astonishment, she started laughing.
“You can see there is a certain...advantage to this situation. For you, I mean. I know how you and Henriette feel. This would explain much of what may occur...” She bit her lip, clearly lost in thought.
“What will occur?” Brodgar was desperate. “What have you foreseen?”
“I don't know.” Alina's smooth brow furrowed with a frown. “Brodgar, it's not clear.” Her gaze met his. “There are two paths.”
“Two paths. Please? Could you tell me more?”
Aunt Alina had covered her eyes with her hand. She was leaning forward, one elbow on the desk. The slump of her shoulders betrayed how desperately weary she was.
“I can see happiness in one future,” she said. “This thing that Alf has done...it could lead to joy. Much joy. It could also lead to much pain. I can see sadness in the future too. If things follow the other path.”
“What can I do?” Brodgar said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “What will make things follow the other path? How can I make things follow the good one?”
“I don't know,” Alina said. She looked at him with those black eyes like two empty pits of shadow. “I cannot see. Right now, both paths are still unfolding.”
Brodgar shivered. It seemed as if, in that moment, time stood still. He heard the wind drop outside, and somewhere a bird called.
Alina blinked at him. “Cold,” she said.
“Sorry, Aunt,” Brodgar said. He was suddenly concerned. His aunt was pale gray in color, her face pained as if she ached everywhere.
“I need to sit by the fire,” Alina said succinctly. She pulled herself to her feet and dragged herself to the fire, slow step by slow step. She sat down on the stool Brodgar moved there, looked up at him briefly. She did not look angry – her eyes held a twinkle of kindness, quickly shut away as her eyelids drooped heavily.
“Is there anything I can do, Aunt?” Brodgar asked quickly. “Should I fetch someone? Amabel or...” He trailed off as she waved her hand at him.
“Go, Brodgar. Make your plans. You should do what is in your heart.”
Brodgar frowned. “I will try, Aunt.”
“Stop the pattern. You can do it. I know it.”
Brodgar shivered. Her voice was weary, sinking to a whisper. “I hope so.”
“Now go.”
Brodgar hurried downstairs. He had no idea what to do. His first thought was to find his mother. She was Alina's sister. She would know how to assist her at this time. However, what did she mean?
Do what is in your heart.
Henriette. He wanted to find her. He turned to the steps and hurried downstairs to the solar to find her. That was all he could think of. He had to follow his heart.