If there was any justice in the world, Lion Sutherland was dead of the plague.
“Come, lass, a burden shared is lighter,” Finlay said.
Rowena sighed and leaned closer, glad of the noise in the hall. “On the morrow, Eneas rides to Blantyre Castle to meet with the Earl of Buchan.”
“What? But—but that is where Padruig had gone, in answer to the earl’s summons.”
“Why? Who is this earl?”
“He’s the king’s brother, sent here to subdue the clans that have been reiving and murdering. To do it, he must raise an army, and he wanted Padruig to provide some men.”
“Oh. It sounds a grand scheme,” Rowena said absently, her own troubles more immediate. “Eneas plans to tell the earl of Padruig’s passing and swear fealty to him on Paddy’s behalf.”
“Fealty? Some of the Lowland clans follow that English custom of swearing allegiance to the king, but we Highlanders do not need to seek anyone’s approval of what we do. Especially when the king’s as weak a vessel as Robert. What does Eneas hope to gain by groveling at the earl’s feet?”
“Eneas told Clem he’d ask the earl to declare himself Paddy’s guardian,” she said faintly.
“But Padruig intended for you, Father Cerdic and myself to have the raising of the lad. He said so before all the clan and made every man swear to support Paddy as his heir.”
“Clem reminded Eneas of that, but Eneas said that the earl would not know of this—this unnatural notion of Padruig’s.” She twisted the linen napkin in her lap, the burning in her belly intensifying. “Eneas says that task should fall to Padruig’s only brother, and he’s certain the earl will agree.”
“No Gunn will care what this earl says.”
“But they may.” She took hold of Finlay’s arm. “Much as they loved Padruig and do love Paddy, also, there are many in the clan who will not love being ruled by a woman, a priest and a—a...” She could not bring herself to call Finlay a cripple, as Eneas had when making his point. “The young men especially want a vigorous chief who can hunt with them and lead them into battle. They will not see the danger to Paddy. They will not see that once Eneas is Paddy’s guardian, he could take my son away from us and...and mayhap kill him.”
“Eneas would not harm his own nephew.”
“Life in the Highlands is hard and chancy. Accidents do happen, even to a grown warrior like Padruig,” she added pointedly. “I mean to see that none befall my son till he’s old enough and strong enough to fend for himself.”
“I will speak with Eneas and make him see that we will not stand for any mucking about with Padruig’s wishes.”
“He will not listen.”
“Then I will ride to Blantyre and inform this earl of Padruig’s desires.”
“Thank you,” Rowena murmured. But she knew that even a few minutes in the saddle were torture for Finlay’s bad leg. “We will think of something, I am sure.”
“Now what are you whispering about, Rowena?” inquired a voice as cold and sibilant as a snake’s hiss.
Rowena gathered her courage, then slowly looked over her son’s red head to the glittering eyes of her adversary. Eneas had disliked her from the moment of their first meeting, the young wife of his childless brother, bringing with her the promise of an heir to displace Eneas. When she’d fulfilled that promise and birthed Paddy, Eneas’s animosity had ripened to a hatred that burned bright in his dark eyes.
Even in the crowded hall, with Finlay beside her, she felt vulnerable. Eneas had always unnerved her, his malevolent stare seeming to strip away her lies and pretexts. She resisted the urge to squirm. One sign of weakness and he’d strike like the hawk he so resembled. Before, she’d had Padruig’s support. Now she was on her own, her wits her only defense. Digging deep into the well of strength some say came to all mothers when their young were threatened, she prepared to do battle for her son’s future, his very life. “We were discussing the order of march to the gravesite.” She was pleased by her level voice.
“Indeed?” Eneas’s hard gaze narrowed. He was a large, lean man, with sharp features and thin lips set in a permanent sneer. Younger than Padruig by ten years, he had his half brother’s strength and determination, with none of Padruig’s sense of honor. “Father Cerdic first, then myself and Paddy.”
“He’s too young to walk so far.”
Between them, Paddy left off crumbling his oatcake and tipped his head back to look at her. His round face was unusually pale. Mauve shadows bruised the hollows below expressive, whiskey-colored eyes the same shape as his father’s. In them, she saw fatigue and confusion. He liked his uncle Eneas no better than she did. Her fault, but better wary than too trusting. “Mama, can I get down now? My bum’s gone to sleep.”
Poor lamb. He’d been through so much. The shock of losing his stern, remote father, the tensions sparking between the remaining adults in his life, the excitement of the funeral...
“Aye, love, I’ll have Jennie take you up—”
“He stays,” Eneas said flatly.
Rowena’s head snapped up. She felt her face heat, and struggled with her temper. “He’s exhausted from kneeling by his father’s bier all night.” At your insistence.
“We all sat vigil. ’Tis expected. As laird, Paddy must look beyond his own comforts,” Eneas said with obvious relish.
“He’s just a lad.”
“Aye, he is.” And I’m a man grown. More than capable of ruling if I can find a way, his eyes warned. “But he must grow up quickly.” He smiled thinly. “I’d be remiss in my obligations as Paddy’s uncle and teacher if I let him shirk his duties.”
There was that hated word again. And with it came the opening shots in what promised to be a long, deadly war. Damn Eneas for making it seem he wanted the best for Paddy when she knew he didn’t. Despite the suffocating heat in the crowded hall, a chill slithered down her spine. What to do? Should she fight Eneas on this and look disrespectful to Padruig’s memory? Or give in and risk appearing weak?
“‘Tis all right, Mama.” Paddy put his hand on her arm, his small fingers warm and as reassuring as the light squeeze he gave her. His face was childishly round, his eyes so like his father’s, sharp and wise beyond his few years. “I want to be there when they bury Father, so I can mark the spot. I’m going to raise a cairn there the way they do for the heroes in the tales you’ve told me. ’Twill likely take awhile and the stones will be small, but I’ll carry larger ones when I’m bigger.”
Now it was tears she battled. Paddy, her wee Paddy, was protecting her, just as his father had done so long ago.
“Well put, Paddy,” Finlay said a trifle too heartily. “He has the makings of a fine chief.”
“With the proper guidance,” Eneas said pointedly.
“You’d be just the man to teach him,” shouted a voice Rowena knew right well.
She glanced at the nearest
