The Red Lion

Chapter Four

          The scout party yielded nothing. I enlisted some of Caraid's men to search the entirety of the forests near Bayloroch for whomever I saw spying before, but they found nothing.

"If all ye're looking for is ghosts and will-o-the-wisps, find a priest next time," one of the soldiers said to me as he emerged from the wood.

I frowned. I was certain I had seen someone and I could take no chances. Caraid seemed unamused by the activity, though I don't think he cared enough to confront me.

Despite my concern, that Finan shared once I told him of it, the estate resumed its modified state of normality. My eyes, however, continued to watch the treeline. When called inside for anything I made sure that several muire were posted outside, watching for spies.

When he was not stalking the grounds, ceaselessly watching his men, Lord Caraid quitted public view and retired to his new quarters, my old workroom. Finan worked tirelessly, as he usually did, to keep everything in order. Often did I see him rushing between rooms of the estate, delivering buckets of water, cloth bandages, or even general correspondence. With him working and my workspace occupied, there was little I could do but watch the spectacle.

I suspected that no more men would die at this point. The hall was still filled with injured troops, but they mostly had wounds that would heal overtime, broken bones and the like. It was a glad realization as it gave Caraid less reason to garrison his troops here past this time tomorrow. Servants acting as nurses could breathe easier now that the worst was behind them and the hall ran quiet.

Around midday, a knock came at the door of the great hall. Puzzled, and almost gleeful at having something to do, I answered the call. I swung open the door faster than intended and nearly hit the person standing before it, who happened to be a villager who dropped to one knee once he saw it was the lord of the estate that was about to address him.

"Stand up, man, I'm nae His Holiness," I said to the man.

He silently nodded and promptly returned to an erect stance. His face was smeared with dirt and he wore plain wool trousers and a roughspun tunic. The leather skullcap that covered his matted and poorly kept brown hair was cracked and showed obvious signs of years of exposure to the sun. He spoke:

"Forgive me, lord, but me sons and I have nae more seed for planting and we cannae find master Séamus."

I raised an eyebrow. "You went to his cottage and searched the fields?"

"Aye, lord. I thought he may have gone here to meet with yer lordship."

"I have nae seen him since yesterday," I said. Finan was in the hall behind me. I called to him and asked if he had seen Séamus. He hadn't. I nodded to myself.

"Come along," I said to the man, waving him inside. He looked surprised; I doubted he had ever entered the estate proper, but still hurried inside at my beckon.

As the villager entered the hall, his eyes went wide at the sight of the bedridden soldiers. "God in Heaven," he almost silently said in surprise.

"Such is the price of war," I said without looking back at him.

I led the villager to the storehouse on the far end of the estate proper. It was an exceptionally large room filled with barrels, boxes, sacks, cupboards and all other types of containers. I grabbed two sacks of wheat seed from the reserves and handed them to him. "This is for you and any of the other villagers. Do nae let me catch you hoarding it," I said to him as I hauled the bags onto his shoulders.

"Aye, lord, bless ye and thank ye," he said with sincerity. I led him back to the great hall. Before he left, I spoke to him again:

"Keep an eye out for Séamus. A village manager is an important resource, especially in these times. Tell him to report to me when you see him next."