Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)

Two

The silverware clinked around the table as everyone happily ate their dinner, a general air of contentment resting on all of them. Besides the deer steaks, there was bread, cheese, and cabbage soup, as well as whiskey and milk. A warm fire burned in the hearth beside them, adding even more to the candlelight that kept the cold dark away. The fresh scent of lavender spread under the aroma of the food, wafting from the bowl of dried petals left over from last summer's harvest.

"I take it ye took care of the rest of the meat, Willy?" Da stared at him evenly, wiping his mouth with his fingertips.

"I buried some of it so it would freeze, but aye. It's all taken care of." Popping a piece of bread in his mouth he grinned at Rowan, who was discretely trying to feed some of his cabbage to the dogs under the wooden table.

"Good. I was hoping ye'd be finished with it. There was some talk amongst the families that live out beside the Stewart lands that I wanted ye to check on." Pausing to clear his throat, the elder William grimaced some, as if this weren't good news.

Worried by the expression, Will raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It's not the Campbells again, is it? I thought we were finally getting to a good enough place with them that we wouldna have to deal with them any longer."

The question caused everyone in the room to pause and look to the head of the family, apprehension filling the space. MacDonalds and Campbells famously did not get along, no matter where they lived. However, living right on the boarders of the two clans' lands had made life particularly difficult at points. Things seemed to be relatively peaceful at the moment, due to extreme effort on the MacDonalds part, but there was never any telling when the rival family would decide to end the peace.

Shaking his head, Da picked up his cup and took a long drink. "Dinna fash yerself about the Campbell family now. It's not anything like that."

Everyone relaxed at that, a breath of relief seeming to sweep the room. Eating resumed with ease, the earlier happiness of the evening quickly warming them once more.

"What's botherin' them, then?" Laoghaire questioned, helping herself to another biscuit.

"It seems someone has moved into the old shack just up the mountain. They think it's a young lass, but none of them are willin' to get close enough to find out for sure. It's right close to the border for one thing, and as for the other reason—"

"They think she's a witch," Alastair piped up, grimacing as his father frowned at him. "Sorry, Da. I dinna mean to interrupt ye. Little Jamie from across the way passed through the pasture this morning and told me about it. He was taking bets on how long it would take someone from the church to send a witch hunter to question her."

"Hush yer mouth!" Laoghaire scolded him, rising from her seat. "We know nothing about the lass! There's no sense in spreading such a vicious rumor without knowin' the truth of it." All the same, she glanced out the window, toward the direction of the old, abandoned hut up the mountain, and flicked her fingers, making the sign to banish evil.

"I thought only witches lived by themselves, though." Rowan spoke confidently, smiling as he looked around the room. "Spell casters and old maids."

"Well, she's no old maid, from what I've been told," Da muttered, raising his glass for another drink.

"And just what do ye want me to do about it?" Will asked incredulously. "March right up there and ask her if she's the Devil's bedmate? If she were, she'd curse me right on the spot!"

"And if not, she'd likely slap him across his face," Laoghaire added, nodding in agreement. "He can't walk up to a stranger and accuse them of something like that."