the fire. “Ah man, ‘tis weeks since I’ve bathed in anything other than a frigid stream or a frozen loch.”
From the other tub, his host, Feargus MacBede, chuckled. “Keeps a man strong.”
“Aye, it does.” Heat curled around Talorc as he settled deep, knees bent until they poked out from the surface. Better cold knees than a cold neck.
He glanced around at the soft sound of a door opening, but couldn’t see beyond the bathing screen.
“It’s my wife.” Feargus explained. “She’s a great hand when it comes to washing hair and backs, don’t you wife?” Fiona moved within the light of the fire. “Can near put you to sleep she can.”
“Och, flattery, that’s what you’re doin’,” she teased as she ran her fingers through her husband’s thick head of white hair.
Talorc watched, curious. His own father had always said, look to the mother to see what the daughter would become. Fiona was tall and regal, her movements smooth as a gliding falcon. There was a hint of mischief in her smile.
Without warning she dunked her husband until his entire head was drenched.
More than a hint of mischief!
Feargus came up sputtering. “I hope you don’t treat our guest like that!” But his grumble was lost in a sparkling glance. The man had known it was coming.
It was good still to be playing games when you had eight grown children . . . correction, there were only seven now. He knew that well.
Talorc closed his eyes, his head against the rim of the tub. The couple’s companionable banter lulled as gently as the warm water within his bath.
“MacKay?” Feargus butted into his thoughts. “The Gunns grow more vicious of late. Foul as they are, they are not the sort to come at us like they’ve been.”
“Aye,” Talorc nodded. “There’s no understanding to it. They get angry with no ill treatment from us, burn our crofter’s homes, steal in a way that leaves a clan starving. Hunger we know how to live with.” He gripped the sides of the tub, “But now someone’s been thieving young lasses out from under their parents care.”
Feargus grunted. “Aye. One of our crofter’s daughters has gone missing. Young Alicia. No sign of her for months now, and we searched.”
“The same tale can be heard from the Raeys and the Bainses.”
The older man bent his head. “Many a loss, these years past. Young females, good fighting men.”
“The glory of the fight does not take away the sorrow of loss. It was a sad day when Ian fell to the sword.” Talorc reached for his soap as he searched for words not easily found. “These battle losses are mine to bear.” He admitted. “I call the men to fight. They trust me. But there have been too many problems, too many things gone wrong.”
He looked to the older man. “Feargus, you fought with my father, you’ve raised strong men who don’t shy from the fight. Our families have been united for generations. There’s no other man in the highlands I would trust more than you.”
“The MacBedes have always done their part.”
“Aye, more than their part. You’ve offered good counsel. So I am telling what I’ve told no other. I think we have a traitor in the clan.”
“Impossible!” Feargus barked. “It’s the Gunns, that black hearted Angus Gunn. You know, I know, it’s him.”
“Oh, aye, the Gunns play a part.” A traitor was unthinkable but not impossible. Clan loyalty was taught from the cradle, instilled in every highlander. Still it was possible.
He tried to explain. “There are those thrown out of the clans, the outlaws.” Feargus grunted acknowledgement as Talorc continued. “Some still have family inside our care. Loyalties can be divided.”
It cleared his mind to finally speak of this. “For the life of me, I can’t think of who would turn against us. There’s only one MacKay who has family with the outlaws and there was no love lost when he was banned.”
Soap in hand he lathered his chest, his arms, drawn to the smell of it, pine and bay with a touch of spice. A fine odor for a man to wear.
“Laird,” Feargus argued, “you have it wrong. We are not a people for turning on our own. And the Gunns have been there to fight when we go out. They’d not fight the renegade’s battles.”
The room quieted but for the crackle of the fire, the soft splash of water as Fiona scrubbed her husband’s back.
Feargus broke into the silence. “Your wife was a Gunn, rest her soul. I’ve