"I was sick as a damned dog last night," the MacNeil chieftain said as he joined Connor and Alex, who were sitting with their legs stretched out before the hearth in the hall. "If I didn't know ye better, Connor, I'd say ye tried to poison me."
Connor rubbed his forehead. He did not doubt that the food had made Alex's father-in-law ill. Cook had taken to his bed, and the entire household was in disarray.
"This would never happen if Ilysa were here," Alex said. "Cha bhi fios aire math an tobair gus an traigh e." The value of the well is not known until it goes dry.
"Thank you for pointing that out," Connor said.
Until everything went amok, Connor had not realized that Ilysa was the reason his household ran smoothly. In truth, he was never even aware that it ran smoothly.
"Another chieftain would believe it was poison," the MacNeil said. "You'd best get your household in order before spoiled meat kills off a guest and leads to a clan war."
"This morning one of the serving maids told me - me, the chieftain - that we are low on ale," Connor confessed. "For God's sake, with the MacLeods and Hugh threatening us, I don't have time to concern myself with what goes on in the kitchens."
"What ye need is a wife," the MacNeil said. "This is no way for a man to live."
"I intend to acquire one at the gathering," Connor said.
Alastair MacLeod would be there, which meant Connor could risk leaving Skye without worrying that his enemy would launch an attack in his absence. Neither of them would break the peace until after the gathering because that would upset the Crown and risk interference.
"I'll be looking for a wife at the gathering myself," the MacNeil said, reminding Connor that Alex's father-in-law had recently lost his second wife in childbirth. When he stood, he seemed to have lost his usual proud bearing. "Now I'm returning to my bed to recover from that slop ye fed me."
"Poor man," Alex said after his father-in-law left. "He's left with a newborn babe, another young son, and Glynis's three sisters."
Alex shuddered when he mentioned the girls, who were pretty but silly and prone to giggling. They were young, but their father and Alex held out little hope the girls would outgrow it.
The MacNeil chieftain's galley would be sailing with Connor's to the gathering, while Alex remained at Trotternish Castle to serve as keeper in Connor's absence. Alex was well established on North Uist and, unlike Connor, had a good man there he could leave in charge.
"Our battle with the MacLeods could come soon after the gathering," Connor said. "I intend to return from it with the matter of the marriage alliance settled."
"Well, I know one chieftain's daughter ye can strike off your list," Alex said. "Alexander of Dunivaig won't be invited to his father-in-law's."
Connor did not tell his cousin that Deirdre was already off his list of prospective wives. If he told Alex why, he would never hear the end of it.
"Has he not come to terms with the Crown yet?" Connor asked.
"Ye could say that," Alex said with a smirk. "I heard he joined our other MacDonald relation, Donald Gallda, in attacking Mingary Castle again."
Murt! Connor's near marriage to Deirdre would have been even more disastrous than he thought. With her father still active in the rebellion - attacking his father-in-law's castle, no less - Connor could have been dragged into that lost cause, or accused of it by the Crown.
"Will the gathering still be held at Mingary Castle?" Connor asked.
"Aye, but don't be surprised if ye still smell smoke," Alex said. "Now, there's a cautionary tale about the value of a marriage alliance."
"Ye look well," Connor said to change the subject. "Perhaps it wasn't the food at my table that made your father-in-law ill after all."
"Fortunately, my thoughtful wife packed enough provisions to sink my boat, so I didn't need to risk eating that gray meat," Alex said, making a face.
"I ate it, and it didn't make me ill," Connor said, though it had tasted foul.
"That's because you're drinking enough whiskey to fend off any illness."
Connor had been drinking more of late. Who could blame him?
"At least they can't ruin the whiskey," he said and poured a large measure into each of their cups.
"Cha deoch-slaint, i gun a traghadh!" 'Tis no health if the glass is not emptied! They chanted in unison and