Calum was quick on his promises. Within a week a majority of his men had left, carrying letters of introduction between Stormway and the other Island strongholds. He himself took up the cause of discovering what had become of Alex, sailing off on a bright winter's day. He ordered a few men to stay behind to hunt and help around the castle.
I reigned myself in, my sense of insignificance; hesitated from asking them if they minded. Did my best to make the remaining Northmen feel comfortable. To ease any potential feelings of resentment toward me or their Laird. With Calum's pledge, we had, after all, stopped them from returning home to Istimere and the snowy Northern lands. By all accounts, the men were not bitter about their recent appointments as guards and hunters of Stormway.
Calum installed a cheery fellow, Angus, who was short and round, with a wide barrel chest and a mighty red beard, as my personal secretary. His primary responsibility was to follow me from sun up to sun down and allay the burden of sending my commands throughout the estate. Within a week, he had over three dozen children in his employ. Well trained, they ran hither and thither throughout the castle on "official business". Angus paid them well with handfuls of boiled sweets, and bright stones or shells magically pulled from behind their ears. At night, he taught the children and their mothers how to read and write.
Thus a respite fell over Ellesmure. Hunger and desperation still lingered, yet access to fresh game and with a few knowledgeable hands, we kept the wolves at bay. Spirits improved, and there was a new, humble excitement in the faces of everyone in the castle. No longer were eyes sullen and cheeks sunken. We would survive the winter, that much was clear. What came after would be the genuine test of our "new world".
On a warm day in late-February, I stood at the window in my office and watched water melt from the many icicles that clung to the battlements. The steady plink plink plink of the drips onto the windowsill was calming and meditative. Angus, seated behind me at the desk, was making his way through the first batch of letters that had come in from the other Islands. As he read them aloud, I heard tales that both mirrored my experience and differed remarkably from what we had survived.
In the South, they had been rotating troops every six months to keep fighters rested and farms productive. In the North, outside of Calum's territory, they had endured a bitter freeze but had years of surplus to see them through the winter. Their Lairds had only taken half of the men to war. To the West, stretching out into the sea, the news was positive: harvests had been bountiful and trade successful. They discovered that their land produced a natural component needed for manufacturing gunpowder. In emphatic language, they asserted that they only traded with the Islander forces, but it was clear they had been selling to the Mainland, too. Most other Islands were struggling as we had, robbed of men and supplies. Their more heartbreaking letters put me at ease around the vulnerability I had laid bare in my initial correspondence. What I would do with these new relationships, I barely knew. Calum would be my guiding light in the realm of politics.
As Angus droned on, a dark smudge obscured the snowcapped horizon. I watched as the shadow grew, fanning out over the distant hill and moving ever forward. A low rumble shook the ground and reverberated in the still air.
Angus stopped reading mid-sentence and stood up, the sound of his chair screeching against the stone floor. As she had weeks ago, Bess rushed into the room.
"What is it this time?" She asked, breathless. She smoothed her hair back with flour-dusted fingers.
The approaching hoard was massive. They didn't even attempt to narrow their approach to pass within the boundary of the main road. I leaned out of the window, desperate for a better look.
"Calum promised support," I said, looking over my shoulder and back into the room.
"No one has a force that bit," Angus said with a frown. Shaking his head, he continued, "And not one that could have gotten here so fast."
"Well, it's not my father. His forces weren't that large, either." I grunted, leaning back out of the window. "Maybe this is the Mainland, come to invade us at last."
Bess smacked me on the shoulder, "That wasn't funny the first time and it's not funny now."
Grinning, I looked at her, "It's the only logical option. At least we have proper guards, now."
I watched as my sister-in-law's eyes skimmed down to the guardhouse, where two of Calum's men stood alert. Two grown men were better than a boy with a non-working gun, but it was still a sad defense.
"Two against two-thousand. Excellent odds," Angus grumbled.
Despite my growing alarm, I chuckled. "What do we do?" I asked, pushing back into the room and turning to look at him.
Angus assessed me, his thick eyebrows pulled low over his beady eyes. He whistled a short pattern through his teeth and a flush-cheeked girl ran into the room. He had stationed her in the hall, to be alert and ready for her master's signal. Angus bent over so he was at eye level with the child.
"Go tell everyone to gather in the cellars. And they're not to come out unless I or the Lady Eilean retrieve them. Do you understand?"
The girl nodded, sparing me a quick, wondrous look. I offered her a tense smile.
"Come, Mistress," the child said, reaching for Bess's hand.
"Don't be silly," Bess said, looking at me. "I'm staying with you."
I held Bess's stare, forcing myself to meet that her forthright glare. Reaching up, I caressed her cheek. "Go," I whispered. I wouldn't risk her or Wallis.
"Eilean — " Bess protested.
"Your lady gave you a command," Angus said. His tone was gentle, but there would be no argument.
I grimaced at Bess apologetically. Under Angus's direction, discipline was one of the new reforms at Stormway. A change that took some readjustment. I was to be treated as a Laird might — family or not. The mantle of honor chafed against my nerves and made me feel uncomfortable.
"For Wallis's sake, at least. She'll worry if you're not there. I'm fine with Angus. Go, Bess, please."
With a sharp look at Angus, an unspoken contest for dominance passing between them, Bess allowed the messenger girl to lead her out.
Angus and I returned to the window.
"Can you make out their banners?" He asked, squinting.
"No."
"Then it is a waiting game until we can. I'd say they're about an hour away." Indifferently, with the sort of calm learned only after years on a battlefield, Angus returned to the desk and picked up the letters, starting to read them aloud once more. In a painstakingly slow and even tone.
He did it for my benefit, I realized eventually. Focusing on his words kept me from pulling my hair out as I watched the ever-approaching mass grow larger. The thundering sound of their arrival became a racket. Pens in a brass cup rattled on the desk. My skin felt too tight and my teeth were sore from clenching my jaw. I gripped my hips with tense fingertips. When my nerves became so taught that a playful "boo!" would have shattered me, I interrupted Angus.
"This is your plain? Do nothing?" I was on edge, my voice brittle.
Angus looked over the letter he had been reading with a raised brow, "There aren't enough men or weapons to stock the battlements. We'd never stop a force that large, anyway. Talking, not force, is the weapon we wield today."
I rolled my eyes. That sounded useless. "Then we are all dead."
"Assume nothing until you have all the information in front of you. You only waste energy you'll need later on."
"You're as gratingly methodical as my brother, Ian," I grumbled.
Angus smiled, "Ian MacLeod is a ruthless strategist. His battle plans are... something else."
It was my turn to lift my brows, scoffing. I said, "Never knew he had it in him."
"Would he ever conceive of you accepting fealty from another Laird, challenging your father's right to Ellesmure?"
I huffed out a laugh, "Probably not."
Angus gestured toward me with a sage nod, "We are all mysteries to the people who assume to know us best."
I held back my retort that my brothers — any of them — did not know me. Not really. A few months of daybreak horseback riding wasn't enough to expunge a lifetime of neglect. Though it had counted for something, those stolen months when I had felt like a genuine member of the family.
Sitting down across from him, I invited Angus to continue his reading. The words meant nothing as they floated in the air. After another half hour, I stood and again walked to the window. The riders were closer now. I watched in awe as they continued to move forward.
"It's kind of beautiful," I marveled, watching as they advanced as a unit. Thousands of bodies in a single formation.
"They only look impressive from up above. When you're down in it they're sweaty, smelly, dusty nightmares," Angus growled.
He'd know. I laughed as my vision focused. Finally, I could make out the flags that fluttered in the bright sunlight. Standards of vivid green and shocking yellow in a checked pattern snapped as they propelled forward, lifted above the throng.
My knees gave out, and I had to grip the windowsill to keep from collapsing on the floor. There was a strange swooping sensation through my head. My vision went black. Dizziness overtook me.
"Lady MacLeod, are you alright?" Angus hopped up from his chair and rushed to help me back to my feet.
I looked at him, eyes wide and mouth slack, "No," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, it can't be."
"What?" Angus gripped my arms steadily, keeping me on my feet. His face was pale, concern had his eyes scanning my face, my body.
I gaped at him, incapable of speech. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. My heart thundered in my chest and my nails dug into Angus's shoulders. Panting, my body tried to force air into my lungs. My vision narrowed to a slight pinprick, and I shook my head, willing myself to remain upright and conscious.
"Eilean, what is going on?" Angus asked, ditching formality.
I turned and looked out the window again, could make out the symbol stitched over the bright checkered background. A gauntlet. Looking back at Angus, I grinned. I could feel the mania in my eyes, the hysteria in my blood. Angus did not appear comforted by my smile.
I made to pull out of Angus's grip and he let me, dropping his hands without protest. Offering no word of explanation or warning, I gathered up my skirts and ran out of the room, overtaking the turn and crashing into a stone pillar in the hall. I laughed, the sound of it echoing around in the empty expanse.
It sounded mad. Crazed.
Down, down, down — why was the study in one of the tallest towers? Behind me, I heard the slap of Angus's boots as he chased me through the castle. He must have thought me insane.
I felt insane.
But each footfall brought me closer and closer to my wits.
Throwing open the massive oak doors to the castle with a strength I didn't know I possessed, I scanned the riders as they came within sight of the heavy iron gate.
Something close to a shriek came out of my mouth as I saw —
I ran through the courtyard, barreled through the gatehouse, ignoring the warnings from Calum's guards. Plodded my way through the snow-covered expanse beyond the castle gates.
Alex wasn't even entirely off of his horse before I catapulted into his arms, sobbing openly, my heart close to exploding.
It was him! Here. He was here. He had come.