Highland Island (Book 6)

Chapter 13

AN - I hope everyone is having a happy Easter (if you celebrate it)

Chapter 13

How had she talked herself into this plan? How had she thought this was a good idea? Why had she not just ignored Moira? Ignored Gilbarta's warning? But as she looked around at the clansmen who sat and jested with each other this night. She knew that she could not risk Gilbarta's feelings coming true. If she had to do this, to save the lives of the people here, then that was the risk she had to be willing to take. Even if the clan would not see it that way if they were caught.

Forcing herself to continue walking once she entered the Keep, she waved her hellos but did not stop to talk this night. She could not, or she would be turning around and heading straight back to her cottage. Her father had come home just before she left. The small meal for his hard day's work left for him, leaving him to it with a kiss on the cheek and a cheery wave which was the opposite of how she felt. Her mother still at Moira's, the washing completed and drying outside. She had had the easiest of times leaving when this was the point she would have loved to drag her feet. Gilbarta nodded at her as they passed in the main hall. Her hands full with the platters of food she took to the clans warriors. Isla terrified that her very thoughts would give her away.

Moira was around somewhere. Neither she nor Gilbarta could do anything in the plan until Isla had managed her part. Why she had put this forward she had no idea. Part of her was hoping to be stopped at any point, because the further she got into this, the more incriminating it would look. Because it would be incriminating. She was about to help an enemy of the clan escape because one of her friends had a feeling. She knew how foolish it sounded, and it would not be much of an argument when she is pulled up before the Laird, when he was due to pass his punishment for her actions.

Steeling her spine, her feet passing over the floor with more memory of a thousand journeys previous, her stomach churned at the knowledge of what the next few hours could contain. The doorway to the kitchen stood ajar, the women and boys serving in the main hall bustling to and fro, through the doorway, with laughter, chatter and the occasional shout from Cook being heard from within. Nods and welcomes fleeting as the women carried their loads out to the hungry clansmen beyond.

Glancing back, she caught Gilbarta's eye, her friends face laughing at someone's comment, but her eyes held the seriousness of the situation. A subtle nod in her direction to help Isla take those final steps to starting the plan in motion. Without any indication that she had seen her nod, Isla turned and made her way into the dark heat of the Kitchen. It was like walking into a shimmering wall of heat, the smells of roasting meat, the yeasty scent of baked bread, and if she was not mistaken Cook had even used the last of the fish. For all her grumpiness, Cook could really bring out the best of any fish she had. Yet, Isla knew that even if she did have some, in her current state she would not be able to taste it.

Flitting around the tables and bustle of the kitchen maids, she made her way over to Cook. Knowing that the entire plan hinged on Cooks approval. That was not guaranteed and from the woman who fled their presence in tears, Cook was in fine fettle this evening. Cook spun almost taking Isla out with her wooden spoon as she did so. Her face like thunder, Isla really had no hopes of success at this point.

Scowl deepening as Cook recognised her, the lips pursed and Isla waited for a tirade. "Isla, what are you doing here? Your mother made it very clear you were needed at home today." The sneer in her voice showed what she thought about that, yet she would not go against her own choice, not in front of so many witnesses. Your word meant a lot in the clan, if you broke it once, you may not be trusted again.

Isla made a show of looking around to see who was close, she also noted the narrowing of Cook's eyes as she watched Isla take an obvious step forward. Her voice dropping to a tone which would not carry to the nearest kitchen helper, but would be heard by Cook even above the cacophony of activity around them.