Although I was greeted as though I were Bhanrigh at the beginning of The Gathering, and the Laird and Lady Alys and Elder Odina have been nothing but polite and deferential, I have no official role, here on the Tour. I won't until after my coronation cements my place.
Today- the final day of our stay in Clan Maclean- is The Airing of Grievances. As Bhanrigh and White Chief, it will one day be my duty to hear and settle all disputes brought before me. As I do not yet hold that title, though, the responsibility falls to Calum. Yet, because I am here, I must sit by his side to symbolically take part.
"I still don't understand," I murmur softly, leaning toward Calum so that I won't be overheard by the crowd filtering into the Great Hall. "Isn't this Laird Maclean's job?"
Calum rests his hand against my knee, and I swallow convulsively. He leans close, so close that his lips brush against the shell of my ear, and I burn.
"The Bhanrigh is the White Chief- she is the one who acts as mediator- domestically and abroad. If Laird Maclean is not performing in his duties, or is showing favoritism, or his people are unhappy with any of his decisions, they will make their appeals to you today. It will be your job to determine whether to uphold or override the Laird's rulings."
The sensation of his lips moving against my skin makes it difficult to concentrate.
"I thought I couldn't make any decisions until after the coronation."
"Not technically. But you will listen, and you will advise me, and I will heavily factor your advice into my final decisions."
Calum's hand slips from my knee to my thigh, and lightly squeezes. I suck in a sharp gasp of air, and Calum smiles knowingly before sliding his hand slightly higher and doing it again.
"The pheromones?" I murmur, and Calum inclines his head in response, lightly kneading my thigh. He angles his head to plant a soft kiss on my neck, just beneath my ear, and I bite my lip.
That has no business feeling as good as it does.
Elder Diyani clears her throat at my side, and I cough and pull myself away from Calum, with great effort. The closer we get, the more difficult it seems to be to put the distance back between us. I feel that strange rubber-band phenomena that was so prevalent in the beginning, but it seems to be worse now, tighter, harder to ignore.
Calum's stony gaze cuts up to Elder Diyani; it is strange to see him so formal and politely frozen in his treatment of someone. He has not yet forgiven her for my near hypothermia, and she stubbornly refuses to apologize for her role in it.
Sitting between them is uncomfortable.
A line has formed before us- and not an insubstantial one. Calum gestures for the first to approach, and The Airing of Grievances officially begins.
"Uku, My Lady," the first man begins, in Sagwu. "Three moons ago, I came to Laird Maclean regarding crops that were stolen from my land under the cover of night. It was my neighbor, Angus- I know it true, but Laird Maclean didn't hold him accountable!"
Beside me, Elder Diyani quietly translates the words into English, keeping up our ruse. Calum sits in silence once she has finished, looking to me. I glance between him and the man, and swallow hard when Calum inclines his head.
"Do you have any proof of your accusation?" I ask, and the man tuts.
"His corn got the rust and he had a poor harvest, but his wife has had no trouble selling her cornbread at the market. How could she be doing so if Angus hadn't stolen my corn?"
I blink, and glance back to Calum, trying to hide my incredulity as Elder Diyani needlessly translates. Corn. And cornbread. What is this, the seventeenth century? Of all the stupid issues...
"Is this Angus here to speak in his defense?" I ask, and a servant steps forward.
"No, my lady, but the case is marked here..." he says, handing me a leather bound folio and withdrawing a sheet of type written paper.
I pass it to Calum, who scans it quickly. "It says here that Angus' defense was that he had a bounteous harvest the year before, and they had made plenty of cornmeal and canned goods with their surplus," he reads aloud.
"Och, Aye, Uku, but..."
"Witness statements corroborate Angus Maclean's testimony. Do you have any other proof?"
"I know it was him, Uku! I demand justice!"
Calum cuts his eyes to me. His expression is somber-the very picture of thoughtful deliberation, but I can see a sparkle of humor in his eyes.
"What is my lady's opinion?"
I swallow, licking my lips and glancing between Calum and the farmer. "Given the fact that there is no hard evidence with which to convict Angus Maclean... My opinion is that the Laird's ruling should be upheld."
Calum nods, sagely. "I am in agreement. The Laird's judgement stands."
And so the day continues. There are similar complaints from other farmers involving crops, livestock, and property lines. Of greater interest are the requests for tax reductions or exemptions. For the most part, though, I gather that Laird Maclean does a very good job caring for his clan. Calum and I agree to uphold most of his judgments.
The line begins to dwindle, and is nearing its end when a man who has some sort of African ancestry steps forward. I frown a little- I haven't seen anyone in Dhaoine-Tir who looks quite like him, yet. I hadn't realized the racial makeup of the country had any real diversity.
"Uku, My Lady," the man greets, and there is something in his voice that is different than the rest too- a strange sort of drawl that reminds me of an accent I can't quite place.
Calum straightens in his chair and leans forward, his interest truly piqued for the first time all day.
"What brings a member of Clan Drummond to The Airing of Maclean grievances?"
I abruptly remember Tamhas, and the darkness of his skin, and wonder how many of the men's clans can be determined merely by their physical appearance, without the aid of kilt or tartan.
The man bows, respectfully. "Uku, my Laird Drummond has previously petitioned Laird Maclean to return an errant clansman, but was denied. I come on Laird Drummond's behalf to ask you to correct this error of judgment."
"Would this 'errant clansman's' name be Tamhas, by any chance?" I ask, after a moment of silence, and the quick glance that Calum casts me is filled with warning.
The man dips his head, and I look back toward Calum.
This case has all sorts of political ramifications- even someone as unversed as I can see that. It is a fight between two Lairds, and Calum's insertion into the battle could upset the balance of power. I do not understand the intricacies of Clan dynamics, yet. If Calum wants me to keep silent, I will.
Calum stares at me for a long, long moment, as though considering, and then inclines his head- a silent gesture for me to continue.
"From what I have gathered, Tamhas is mated to a Maclean, and therefore within his rights to settle on Maclean land. What issue does Laird Drummond take with this?"
"Tamhas fled the Drummond lands, and his position of Household Guard, before he was mated to a Maclean. It is not lawful for a Clansman to settle elsewhere without his Laird's written permission. Since Tamhas' crime predates his mating, he needs to be returned to Drummond lands to answer for it."
Calum leans close to me again, and I shudder as his lips brush against my ear. "A technicality- and a law that is on the books but often ignored."
I frown, and sit in silence for a few moments, considering. There is obviously much, much more to this issue than is being portrayed. From the line carved between Calum's brow, I know he realizes the same.
"What was the date that Tamhas left Drummond lands?"
The man stiffens- just for a moment, but the movement is telling.
"Shortly after the conclusion of the War."
"So..." I think back to my lessons with Elder Diyani, and do a quick calculation in my head. "..Four years ago."
"Around that amount of time, yes," the man agrees, stiffly.
"And when did your Laird make his request of The Maclean?"
The man sets his jaw. "Three weeks ago. However- Tamhas was not settled in Maclean lands until recently."
"How recently?" I hold up my hand to stop the Drummond clansman from answering, and instead summon the servant with the leather folio forward. "What was the date that Tamhas submitted his request to settle in Maclean lands?"
The man glances through his file. "September 2, 2022, My Lady."
I glance back toward the Drummond clansman. "If Tamhas has been settled here for more than a year, why did your Laird wait until this past month to make his request?"
"He was not aware-"
"Isn't there some sort of protocol to send a notice informing the former laird of a Clansman's resettlement?" I ask the servant, who nods his head.
"The letter was sent to Laird Drummond on September 9, 2022, My Lady."
I nod. "So... Laird Drummond waited thirteen months after he received the notice to request his Clansman's return?"
The Drummond clansman is silent.
"I believe your future Bhanrigh asked you a question, Sir," Calum says, and the man clenches his hands into fists at his sides.
"Yes."
I look to Calum. "Forgive me, I am not familiar with all the laws yet, but- isn't there some sort of time limit for this one? It seems to me that if a Laird has not made issue of a clansman's resettlement for over a year..."
"I do not believe there is."
"Perhaps we should look into passing some laws regarding statutes of limitations," I say, and Calum nods his agreement.
"With all due respect, My Lady..." the Clansman says, and I turn my attention back to him. "No such laws yet exist, and Laird Maclean is outside of his rights to withhold a criminal of Clan Drummond from justice."
I bite at my bottom lip, and swing my gaze back to Calum. He leans close to me again, and I struggle to control my breathing. "I will step in to settle matters whenever you need," he murmurs, and I swallow hard.
"I have an idea," I whisper back, and Calum lightly squeezes my knee.
"Be careful- Drummond is not a man you want to cross."
I nod my understanding, and my chest aches hollowly when Calum draws away.
"Bring Tamhas here," I instruct the servant.
"My Lady, he is a criminal- his opinions do not matter!"
I resist the urge to flinch backwards at the anger in the clansman's voice. I feign strength I do not feel and paste on a placid smile. Beside me, Calum growls, low in his throat, and I rest my hand against his forearm to settle him.
"Sir, I understand that I am not your Bhanrigh yet, and I know I am still learning your ways, but I am your Righ's mate. Please afford me the respect that position is due."
The clansman bows his head, obscuring his expression. "Apologies My Lady, Uku."
We wait in an uncomfortable, tense silence until Tamhas enters the hall, his movements stiff, his jaw squared and back straight but unable to conceal his anxiety. He greets Calum and I with a respectful bow, but doesn't spare the Drummond clansman more than a cursory glance.
"Tamhas- Laird Drummond has summoned you to answer for the crime of leaving his lands without his written permission. Since you are his Clansman, he is well within the law to do so, and I have no legal right to deny his request."
The Drummond clansman smiles, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. Tamhas, by contrast, goes rigid. Calum grips my knee tightly in warning.
"However- this law only applies if you are a Drummond. If you renounce Clan Drummond, you will be Clanless. You will lose all of the protection and rights of your clan. You will be fully reliant on your mate, and should anything happen to her, you will be alone in the world," I continue.
Calum sucks in a breath, and a collective gasp goes through the crowd assembled in the hall.
"My Lady, to be made Clanless is the worst of punishments, reserved for the most heinous of criminals-" Elder Diyani whispers, and I hold up my hand to silence her.
"It is a choice for Tamhas to make. He broke the law of his Clan, and therefore requires a punishment in order to satisfy Laird Drummond's righteous anger."
"Uku, she does not know our ways. Please, intercede!" The Drummond clansman appeals to Calum, but Calum shakes his head.
"I trust your future Bhanrigh's judgement." He squeezes my knee again, and I rest my hand over his and thread our fingers together. He gently runs his thumb along the back of my hand, and I shudder with pleasure.
I meet Tamhas's black gaze, and see his Adam's Apple bob with the force of his swallow.
"So. Tamhas. Would you like to be returned to your ancestral lands to answer to your Laird, or would you like to be known as Tamhas the Clanless? Make your choice."
The hall collectively holds its breath.
Tamhas does not drop my gaze. He stares directly into my eyes for several heartbeats.
"I renounce my ties to Clan Drummond. I choose to become Tamhas mac Anigilohi, the Clanless," he says, his voice hoarse, without breaking eye contact.
The hall is filled with the whispers of the crowd, and the Drummond clansman is absolutely seething.
"My lady... Uku..." he begins, but Calum interrupts him.
"The punishment for leaving Clan lands without consent is a minor one. Laird Drummond is just. At most, Tamhas would have faced a steep fine. He himself chose the harshest punishment available to any Clansman. This matter is settled."
Tamhas- who still has not broken my gaze- nods to me, a slight, subtle movement- as though in gratitude. I nod back.
"We are finished for today," Calum announces, rising from his chair and offering me his arm. I take it, and follow him from the hall, holding my head high.
As we exit, though, I dig my nails into Calum's forearm, terrified that I may have made a powerful enemy of Laird Drummond for both of us today.
And what terrifies me more still- Laird Drummond did not issue his demand for Tamhas' return until the moment I entered this Ripple.
The Ahyoka departs for Clan Drummond's lands tonight.
Could Calum and I be sailing straight into the arms of our enemy?