The next day Ian pulled his horse to a still and looked down at the village. Both he and the steed breathed with difficulty from riding hard along the expanse of the clan's borders.

They'd spotted several Campbell scouts who didn't bother hiding when he and his men rode by. They did not move to attack nor did they retreat. The situation was becoming worrisome.

Once his clan joined with the McLeans he'd feel better about the threat against the people from the huge clan who's laird made no qualms at letting it be known he planned to take the McDougall lands.

His cousin Aiden pulled alongside and let out a loud puff of breath. "Should we call on the southern McDougalls?"

"Nay, the Campbells may view it as a sign that we are preparing to fight and attack," Ian replied. "I have sent a messenger, so Calum is aware, but I've asked them to wait."

"Yer Da? Should we go back and tell him what we've seen?"

Aiden looked as conflicted as he felt. No doubt his father would have wise advice on the matter, but the added worry could worsen his condition. Ian was not ready to lose his father. Not yet. "We will wait a few days, perhaps the scouts will retreat."

"Very well." Aiden didn't seem convinced, his eyes scanning the tree line. "I've never before seen them act with such boldness."

"Neither have I. Let us return to the keep. There isn't much left to do out here."

Unwilling to remain away from his father too long, Ian rode back to the keep with haste. Upon entering the walls, a young lad came to take his horse. He caught sight of one of his men heading directly toward the vegetable garden outside the kitchens. The male, Colin, stopped and began talking to a woman with a basket. When she straightened, he caught sight of her face. Ailios.

After speaking for a few more moments, she placed her basket down and walked away, the male following. Curiosity stirred, he went to see where they headed. The couple moved to a shack not too far from the kitchens where herbs were dried and entered. He debated to whether go closer, but then decided against it. It was clear what they did. There was no use in confirming it. Anger and disappointment swirled. Yet it was best to know her ways. It made it easier to consider bedding the wench prior to marrying.

Once inside the keep, he went to his father's chambers. He found his mother asleep in a chair beside the bed, her husband's hand in hers. Although the Laird slept soundly, he was feverish by the sheen of sweat on his brow. Ian motioned for a maid who stood at the doorway with a basin of cold water and cloths to enter.

"Take care not to wake him," he instructed and then watched the woman place the wet cloth on his father's brow. He looked over his parents for a few moments deciding it was best to let them be for the moment.

He made his way back to the great room and sat in a large chair near the fireplace. His mother would suffer greatly when his father died. They shared a strong bond, loved each other greatly.

A love like theirs was rare. It never occurred to Ian how rare since he grew up with parents who always showed deep affection for one another. A smile curved his lips. He'd been fortunate to live in a loving home as such. Would he and his betrothed come to have a relationship as rich? He sincerely hoped so.

He straightened when Colin entered the great room and sat at one of the tables, his clothing askew the man seemed more troubled than satisfied causing Ian to wonder if he and Ailios had fought. His mood darkening, he filled his tankard and drank deeply.

One of the serving women neared. "Laird, Cook would like to know if you'd like a repose."

"Nay, tell Cook I will eat later with everyone. Thank her for me." He stood to go outside, the air stifled him, the thought of his father's illness compounded with the threat of the Campbell's imminent attack, weighed heavily on his mind. It was all he could do to keep from rushing back upstairs to wake his father and beg him to get well.

The fresh air did little to settle him. It was not fair to lose a father who was still relatively young. No matter what front he put up for the clan's sake, Ian didn't feel prepared for the task of leading them, especially not to war.

Yes, he'd led many a battle against rival clans, but now he would be the leader of leaders. He was Laird of the Northern McDougalls. Something his father should be doing for at least another ten years.

Ian let out a growl and kicked a rock as hard as he could. It hit the side of a short wall and broke into pieces. A yelp caught his attention.

He stalked to the wall and peered over it to find Ailios on her hands and knees gathering the vegetables that spilled from her basket.

"Are you all right?" He neared and picked up a potato and placed it in the basket.

"A loud noise startled me," Ailios replied continuing her quest to gather the spillage. "Something crashed against the other side of the wall."

"I apologize. It was a rock. I didn't see you."

Her eyes took him in for a few moments. As if able to see deeper into what ailed him, they filled with concern before she lowered them. "I spend a great deal of time out here in the garden. It's a good place to think."

"You also spend some of your time in the herb shack with men. From what I saw, it's seems to be used for more than drying herbs."

Ailios stilled for a moment and then continued picking up the last of the items. He handed her another potato and she snatched it from him. Finally she straightened and lifted her eyes to his. "Is there something that ails you, Laird?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because you cried out as if in pain," Ailios replied. "If you would like assistance, perhaps I can help."

Ian gritted his teeth. "Is that the excuse the men use to get time alone with you in there?" He motioned to the shack. "If so, then yes, I do have an ailment and it requires that you lower my breeches."

Wide eyes met him for a split second before she caught him by surprise. Her mouth fell open and her eyes became shiny with tears. "You have every right over me, Laird, but that doesn't mean your words do not hurt. With your pardon, I must go." She pushed the basket into his arms and ran in the direction of the creek behind the keep.

"What a strange reaction." Ian shook his head and basket in hand, headed in the opposite direction back into the great room and straight to Colin whose brows lifted at the sight of him.

He'd test Ailios and see if what she said was true. "What ails you, Colin?" Ian asked the male. "I saw you go into the shed with Ailios."

"I haven't been able to keep food down for days, the lass is very good with herbage." Colin replied and then stared without interest at the piece of bread in front of him. "I've grown tired of only eating dry bread."

"Yet you went with me today to ride the lands? Why didn't you remain here? I'd not forced you to go if you'd told me you were not well." Ian watched the male's gaze move back to the basket and then back to meet his. "Ye have enough to worry about, Laird, I am not that unwell as to not do my duty."

Cook entered the room and scurried over to take the basket from his hand. "Where's Ailios? She should be carrying this in, not you, Laird." The burly woman looked up at him expectantly.

"Err... I sent her on an errand," Colin replied glad the woman accepted his comment without question.

The woman nodded. "She's a good helper to me and good with the herbage as well. Helps these lads with what ails them." The woman moved toward the kitchens.

The picture of hurt in Ailios's eyes and her words came to him. He'd insulted her greatly.

Ian pushed away the desire to go and soothe her. After all, she was but a kitchen maid. Yet something about her called to him.

He'd learned from his father not to insult or hurt those in service. The household ran smoothly because of his fairness. No, he'd not go in search of her. Next time she came around he'd ensure to make her feel at ease.

He continued the line of thinking as he made his way back out the door.