A Love Unveiled

Chapter Ten

            Despite a great deal of unwillingness to marry the McLeod wench, he undertook the finishing touches on Linden keep, making some semblance of a homely atmosphere aside from its formidable outward facet.

            Linden keep was home to the Macaulay clan and as of now, it was naught but a cold, empty structure.  

            He gave the task of filling the empty rooms to his chaplain, Egan, who handled his expenses and commodities. It wasn’t long before a range of woodwork and assortment of items began to embellish the floors and walls.

            Rich tapestries adorned the windows and wall brackets held candles to light the corridors. Trestle tables dotted the grand hall with linen coverings and wooded benches on either side. Each room brimmed with fine-crafted furnishings of massive beds made with overlaid mattresses with thick coverlets and feather-stuffed pillows; bureaus and chests occupied corners and lush carpets covered the cold stone floor.

             Before too long, there was naught else that needed improvement within the walls while on the outside, much construction continued and as extravagant as his keep became with all its lavished objects, it lacked domestics.

            Late one evening, while dining in his hall, a letter arrived. The letter was a written plea from Lord McLeod, his betrothed’s father.

            Fallon grumbled beneath his breath as he scanned the scribble with growing agitation.

            There had been another untimely attack on the McLeod fortress, this invasion nearly succeeding in breaking their walls. He claimed the attack was led by Ralf ‘The Red’ Lechmere.

            His nostrils flared with increasing annoyance. Ralf ‘The Red’ was no threat to him but a grave hindrance to a Saxon, especially those unwilling to give up their land and he was well assured McLeod’s resistance prompted Lechmere’s attack.

            In his letter, McLeod pleaded for his aid in this matter, claiming his betrothed’s life was at stake.

            Fallon slammed the letter onto the table and cursed William beneath his breath. He felt as though he were already chained to the McLeod wench. She was his betrothed and any threat upon her was a threat upon him, whether he liked it or not, he would have to bring an end to these attacks.

            Gathering to his feet, leaving the letter to rest upon the table, he went in search of his knights and asked his newly squire to prepare the horses.

Lechmere Keep

 

            Ralf ‘The Red’ Lechmere hoisted his hefty frame from his wooden chair and strolled across the room to survey the fine crafted sword presented to him.

            His thin lips curled approvingly beneath a bulbous nose as he reached out and gingerly traced a stubby finger along the sharpened blade.

            “Ah-“ he purred, “-splendid.”

            The small craftsman standing below him gave a pert nod and slowly entangled the sword from Lechmere’s fingers. “The blade is double edged and slightly tapered. It is six centimeters wide and forty inches in diameter. The hilt is devised of gold.” The little man spoke proudly, his beady eyes moving admiringly over his art work.

            Before Lechmere could praise the small man for his fine craftsmanship, a serf appeared to announce unexpected visitors.

            Thick, russet brows grooved to the center of his wide forehead as he stepped back from the craftsman. “Who has come?” he demanded sharply.