Chapter 19

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Dinner that night was a jovial affair. Acting on immediate command from their Laird, several Northern men had gone hunting, bringing back dozens of partridges and pheasants. For the first time in a long time, we had meat. Cook, rising to the occasion, whipped up a stew that — if lacking in herbs, spices, and vegetables — was more than satisfying with the juicy fowl and a film of oily fat that shimmered on top of the broth in delicate, bubbly temptation. We sat at the long tables that ran down the servants' dining room; wooden benches and tabletops smoothed over by years of use. The men were eager to entertain us, sharing stories from the war. If their tales focused primarily on war camp pranks and brotherly camaraderie, compared to stories of battle and bloodshed, no one minded.

Content to let the night wash over me, I relaxed in the room's warmth and allowed the chatter to blur around me. Calum sat across from me, Bess beside me. Wallis nestled in the lap of a kitchen maid seated next to Calum. Playing a game of peek-a-boo, I was distracted by my niece's laughter and inability to hide behind her hands. The game was wholly one-sided. Laughing with her, I stopped playing when I heard Calum say:

"I haven't decided, I've been thinking of pulling all my men from the front, actually. I do not know if I wish to stay a part of this war."

Looking away from Wallis, I frowned at him, "What are you talking about?"

Bess gestured toward Calum across the table, "I asked if he plans on returning to the front. As a commander. Despite his injury, he could lead the Northern forces that remain on the Mainland."

"And you are thinking about pulling out of the conflict?" I asked Calum, amazed that anyone would consider such a thing.

"As far as I am concerned, my father's vow to support the fight died with him," Calum grunted with an offhanded wave and an arched brow. "His oath to your father sent me there, his vow cost me my leg, and the lives of many Northmen. Let my part of this mess be done."

"But you're still pledged to Stormway," I said, shaking my head.

"Am I?" He teased, a sparkle of something in his dark eyes.

I looked at Bess, confused. She only shrugged and shook her head.

Looking back at Calum, I smiled, putting the pieces together. "So you haven't yet bent the knee?"

"To anybody," He clarified, his grin becoming feral. "I want to keep my options open. Maybe I won't swear to anyone. Maybe I'll retreat to Istimere and keep to my borders, a reclusive Laird. Maybe I'll launch a crusade of my own." He chuckled darkly.

I shivered at the significance of his words. "There is too much war already."

He nodded, solemnity blanketing his features. "I know. What I say is in jest."

"So what do you want?" Bess challenged, "there must be something."

Calum drank from his cup, luxuriating in the gulp of water as if it were the finest vintage of wine from the Continent. "The independent nature of the Islands works against us. It keeps our lands and families in competition against each other, working against each other when we could be allies. There's no reason the Islands cannot unify as the Mainland has done. At least there I agree with Laird MacLeod's ideas."

I crossed my arms and placed them on the table. Leaned over them and stared at him intently. "And what? You should be king and not my father?"

Pride flared and faltered in the same moment. I had always taken the influence of Ellesmure for granted. We were the largest, the richest, the most populated of the Islands. But maybe that didn't matter. I scanned the room, noting the thin, pale cheeks of the women and children around us; the broken, marred bodies of Calum's men. What had our dominance achieved but ruin?

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