Gifted

Honor

A grim-faced Alec Sinclair greeted Alina and Magnus when they entered the great hall. The dinner tables were laid out for the feast of Epiphany but the mood was somber. Even the usually spirited MacLellans were subdued.

"Brother," said Alec. "Our da is dead. He drowned after his vessel was sunk in the North Sea by Inge of Norway. Rolf is gathering forces tae retaliate."

Alina hugged herself closer to her husband's arm and studied his impassive face as he received the news. His expression softened somewhat when he bent to her, excusing himself to meet with his brother in private. She watched him worriedly as they strode away.

"Don't fash yerself, lass," old MacLellan reassured. "From what I hear, yer husband has no match in battle. He'll come back to ye."

"I ken," she said, finding a seat beside him. "I just hope he doesn't insist on leaving half his forces here to guard Glenkerrloch."

"Now why would he do that?" MacLellan asked.

Elizabeth chimed in, "The new laird is rather overprotective of Alina."

"Nonsense! She's perfectly safe here. I'd guard ye ladies myself if ye were in any real danger," he said. "Besides, the more men he takes up there, the sooner he'll be able to get back here."

"Oh, ye are brilliant!" Alina exclaimed as she threw her arms around the old laird and kissed him on his bristly gray beard.

She ignored Lady Lillian's remonstrations as she ran out of the great hall and tore up the stairs to her writing table. In minutes, she had a message on the way to Campbell territory with a letter for Mairi via Jamie. Mairi could not read yet but that was something Alina hoped to remedy soon.

Alina was still working on other letters when Magnus entered their bedchamber with servants bearing food and drink behind him.

She looked up and asked, "What time is it? Did I miss dinner completely?"

"Everyone finished and went tae bed early. Death and war tend tae dampen festivities," he said ruefully.

The servants set the food on the table by the fire.

She peppered him with questions as soon as they were done.

She asked, "Does it have to be war? How formidable a foe is this Inge? Is it possible to get him to surrender or at least make concessions quickly?"

"We've had many skirmishes with his people over the years," he said. "But this is the most significant strike they've ever made against us. Rolf won't be satisfied with anything other than their destruction."
"He and yer father were close?" Alina asked, joining him at the table and picking up a mug of mulled cider.

"Nay, they barely tolerated each other," he said. "But this is about honor. They killed our da. We'll kill them."

She made a skeptical face. "All of them?"

He sighed tiredly. "Enough of them tae make it even. Rolf is laird now. He has tae show our clan that he is strong enough tae make things right."

He sliced some bread then ladled leek and celery soup into a bowl for each of them. Alina surveyed the table - smoked haddock, oysters and fruit fritters - and was pleased with the relatively light fare.

"They had steak pie and wild boar and the rest down there but I ken ye're tired of all the heavy foods," he said, spooning her a bite of the flaky haddock. "Never thought I'd say it but I have, too. Twelve days is a long time tae be feasting."

"Hopefully all the holiday excess will tide me over while ye're gone." She teased lightly, "I might have forgotten how to feed myself in this past month."