Chapter 8

The months until Walther's clandestine wedding passed in a dreamlike state. The Gathering completed, all the visitors packed up and traveled back to their home hearths. Spring bloomed bright and warm, its fast-moving, refreshing breezes blowing through the castle and chasing away the gloom of winter. Every morning, Ian roused me before dawn and raced me to the stables — soon I could keep up with him. A few times I even beat him. We rode for hours in the mornings, traversing the great expanse of land that made up Ellesmure. He showed me outposts and towns, small villages, and neighboring estates that paid fealty to our family. We returned in time for breakfast where I was often sore, drenched, and bone-tired. I was also the happiest I had ever been. A lightness took root in my chest. All of a sudden, it was exciting to wake up and face a new day. The pain and discomfort of hours on horseback were nothing compared to this newfound liberation. Steadily, my brothers joined Ian and I and before long, all eight of us rode out in the mornings in a thundering herd. If we woke the castle, we were never scolded. After a few weeks, Alex joined us, too. Riding hard alongside me, the wind would toss back his golden curls. We'd share breathless laughter as we raced each other across open fields and into the dawn.

After breakfast, Ian led me through an exacting routine of education. He taught me to read and balance ledgers, quizzed me on the market rate of seed corn, and ensured I understood basic medicine and healing. Land deeds were to be analyzed, rent minimums and maximums debated. I was ordered to read long, meandering law books of local, Island, and Mainland regulations. Balancing the demands of the estate — Stormway — against its pantry and cellars was a particularly tricky activity that made me fret and worry over the slightest allotments of wheat and butter.

In using my body, I felt more at home inside of it. Everything was easier: walking, sitting, dancing, sleeping. Muscles strained were muscles strengthened. Only Mother looked on disapprovingly as I consumed more and more food. My exertions on land and in the classroom made me famished to the point of near-constant irritability. At night, after dinner, my brain and body were so spent I dozed off and on as I listened to my brothers regaling each other with tales of their daily heroism. Under their narration, chopping wood or taming a horse became monumental achievements. Alex sat amongst us, teasing them with a freedom I didn't yet feel. They were boisterous and lively and I was tired and still trying to learn who they were. My silence was different from the old familiar fog of neglect and unease. I was comfortable in their chaos and glad to have an invitation into their world. Life, I realized, could be enjoyable.

One day, as I was pouring over the regiment lists and military records of the Islands, something clicked in my mind. I found the courage to ask Ian, once again, why he had been so adamant in taking over my education. It was partially a ruse to buy myself a moment's rest from study. My eyes were dry and blurring the regimental colors of each house into a mess of colors and regalia.

Ian frowned and nodded, "Go to the map, tell me what you see."

Grateful for any excuse to leave the registers behind, I walked to the map that now hung on the wall and studied it. I tried to find a story that went beyond the jagged cliff lines and rolling pastures. My instruction with Ian was practical, the answer would be in the map. I had to look beyond what it displayed at first glance. I considered the greatness of the Mainland, but also how it was contained by Ellesmure. How the island — my island — curved around it protectively. The Mainland had more farmland and cattle lands. Their industry was predominantly agrarian. The Islands we controlled trade, precious resources, textiles, and access to the sea and the continents that lay far beyond.

"Land. Fertile land. Land that we protect from waves and storms with our mountains and cliffs. Land that could feed and provide for us, all within reach. A short boat ride away."

"Good," Ian said, "what else?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know. A tiny point of the southern shore that you and Rupert will squabble over when Father passes along his inheritance."

Ian laughed, "And what of his daughter?"

"What of her?" I grumbled, crossing my arms. There wasn't a parcel of land allotted to me. There never would be, as my primary purpose would be to leave Ellesmure. "She gets nothing."

"You still don't see it," Ian said quietly.

"See what?" I asked, turning to look at him with an arched brow.

"What I was trying to tell you at Walther's Standing." Ian stood and walked toward me. Casually, he leaned against the desk and watched me closely. "You're old enough to have been introduced with the ladies at Walther's Standing. John, the twins, myself...hell, all of us boys are old enough to be wed. We should be married. But we aren't. Why?"

The question took me back, and I shook my head. It was strange that John, the eldest and nearly thirty, should not have a wife. Even Robert, the next youngest to me, was twenty-one. More than old enough to choose a bride. "I don't understand."

"Maybe my hunch is wrong, but, we, all of us, are the most important bargaining chips Father has."

The skin on my arms and neck prickled. I had always known it, of course. Somewhere deep in my soul, I accepted that I was nothing more than a commodity — that my family would stop at nothing to get the highest return on my value. But to hear someone else voice that suspicion and apply to not only me but all of us, was chilling.

Ian looked at the map and explained, "Father has been building an army. We've always kept troops...but what he's been doing for the past year is something else. He's tripled the forces of Ellesmure. An enormous amount of money has gone into the development and training of these new soldiers. I think he wishes to invade the Mainland and take sizable territories for his own."

I shivered, "Why?"

"Money? Power? To provide more food and farmland to the Islands without having to go through a middle man? To avoid paying taxes?" Ian shrugged. "The outlying Islands have refused to commit, they think the idea is madness. They demand Mainland support before aligning themselves with Father's ambitions."

It clicked into place. "Then why not send you to the Mainland to find wives? Why stay here — "

"Why do that when the Laird of Stormway has a daughter? A daughter who is very, very close with the Lord of the Fist? Father would welcome any of our marriages to a Mainland lady. But why make the effort when he could sink his claws into the largest and most important territory by encouraging a romance between two friends?"

Dreadful realization settled over me. I covered my slack mouth with my hand.

"I don't have proof, but I think father invited Lord Leslie to the Sanding in the hopes he would make a bid for you. When it became clear that he would not arrive in time, you were kept off the stage."

The air in the room seemed too thin. My vision spun. The dress, that special green dress. The whole new wardrobe. It all made sense, and it made me sick. "But Alex is a Mainlander. Standing isn't their custom."

"No," Ian turned to look at me, sympathy tugging down his mouth into a frown. "But any man, regardless of nationality, must Stand for and Island woman if they wish to wed. It is in the laws."

I swallowed, trying to piece everything together as quickly as possible. "So my education, this...this rigorous effort to bring me up to speed....is because you think, what? War is coming?"

My brother looked at me candidly, his eyes clear and his jaw set. "I wanted to give you half a chance at survival. Whatever happens. Even if I am completely wrong, you don't deserve to be ignorant."

His gaze was too much, the feeling in his voice was too heavy. Tears simmered in my eyes and I was overwhelmed with a powerful, strange emotion. It pulled me under with a sharp tug on my ankle and I fell into its warm, nameless abyss. My chest was tight.

"Thank you," I said thickly as a couple of tears fell. I cleared my throat and swiped at my cheeks.

Ian nodded, a grim smile etched across his face. He bowed his head and said, "You are most welcome, sister."

"Does...do you think Alex knows?" I asked.

"I have not heard of Lord Leslie's involvement in any of the meetings. I believe him to be entirely innocent."

"I know it's only a guess, but we have to tell him. Don't we?"

Ian bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. "I like the lad, I always have. He's as much a brother to me as the rest of them. But he's not an Islander."

"Ian, you would admit your admiration and loyalty but then leave him to be blind sighted if war did come?" I pressed, feeling as if my brother was being unfair.

"Do what you think is best, Eilean." Ian caught me in an intense stare. "Never forget you are your own master."

It felt like a challenge, some kind of test.

~

My conversation with Ian did little to give me ease. My feelings of anxiety and suspicion were so high that I could barely pick at my dinner — despite being agonizingly hungry.

"I am glad to see you've reigned in your appetite to a more womanly degree, Eilean." Mother cooed at me from my parents' table.

I scowled back but did not apologize or cower. It was my most open rebellion ever. Mother frowned in disapproval but returned her attention to her own plate.

That night, I tossed and turned and was so uncomfortable in my quest to get some sleep that I gave up entirely. Something had to be done. I threw on a dressing gown and slippers and stomped through the castle toward Alex's chambers. I did not knock before entering. He jumped when I stormed through the door.

"Why are you here?" I demand, my temper high.

Alex sat down the book he was reading and looked at me with wide eyes, "What are you talking about?"

His calm befuddlement was the height of guilt in my eyes and it did little to put me at ease. I had to know, so I pressed. "For the Standing, why did you show up here? What did my father promise you?"

"Do you want to sit down?" Alex asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, donning his own dressing gown, then sat again on a low couch before the fire.

I inhaled shakily through my nose, "Just....just tell me what was in the invitation from my Father." I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the worst. Some underhand deal to manipulate our friendship. To force a marriage in exchange for an alliance. The ultimate betrayal of family and friend.

Alex shifted in his seat, the sounds were more attuned to him getting comfortable than a delay in answering. When I opened my eyes again, he was looking at me curiously. Worry danced in those ocean-blue depths and concern pulled the corners of his lips into a pout.

Eventually, he answered, "Nothing, really. Just a few lines saying it had been too long since I had been at Stormway, and why didn't I come for a visit? He mentioned he was hosting a Gathering and that Walther would take place in the Standing. I could stay through to the wedding if I wanted. He even said it would be a fun surprise for you."

I snorted, "He did, did he? And that's all?"

"That's all."

With a huff, I fell down on the couch beside Alex. I stared into the flames, accepting their flickering comfort. It was easier to look at them than at him.

"Why do you ask?" Alex said, turning to face me. He rested his hand on my shoulder. "What...or who...got into your thoughts?"

Shaking my head, I chuckled a bit. "Ian was giving me a lesson today on the benefits my marriage might provide for the family. How I might secure advantageous allies."

"Ah," Alex said, gripping my shoulder in comfort. He laughed under his breath.

"I thought maybe...maybe you had come because — " I couldn't even say it. The thought that after three years of silence Alex would race to Stormway with a desire to secure my hand in marriage was madness. "It's not important."

"It is important if it's bothering you, Eilean. If you don't want to discuss it, that is fine." Alex said kindly. "But I'll spare you the worry if you will permit me to read between the lines. There was no promise or mention of you being Stood for. Your father only mentioned you in regard to friendship."

I faced him finally, offering him a mortified smile. "Thank you."

"Though I won't pretend your lands and dowry aren't...impressive. They'll tempt many men more bloodthirsty than I." Alex laughed. "I merely have no heart for such competition." Alex teased, squeezing my shoulder again, and then dropped his hand.

"It's not you I'm worried about," I admitted.

Alex stiffened, "Have there been other offers?"

I shook my head, "It's not that. Ian has me reading all these military records. It's making my imagination run wild."

"Oh? Are you Islanders up to something?"

It was interesting how his face shifted into something more adult. As if a mask of authority slid into place over his familiar features. It made him look stern and dangerous — but underneath the harshness was the steady kindness. The man who always saw clear to the heart of things. In his face, I saw the guise of Lord Leslie at last. The sight of it thrilled me in a way I did not understand.

I had no wish to betray my father and family, but Ian's suspicions were just that. And he had given me the opportunity to make the next move as I saw fit. So I offered Alex honesty. "Ian seems to think my father is gathering forces. I don't know how many or to what purpose. There has been no explicit declaration of offenses, but my brother thinks he wishes to invade the Mainland and take territory for himself. He wants the other Islanders to join his cause."

Alex frowned, "And Ian thinks your father will exploit our relation—our friendship for an alliance?"

I nodded, glad for the dim light as I blushed at his near slip-up. "As far as I understand things, yes."

Alex leaned back, the portrait of carefree nonchalance. "Well, the Mainland is notoriously hard to breach, and he will receive no protection from me at the Fist. I consider myself both a man of the Islands and the continent. If anything happens, I would feel it my duty to remain neutral."

That was surprising. I wrapped my dressing gown tighter around myself to buy a moment to think. "Perhaps Ian is wrong," I offered.

"Ian is not in the habit of being wrong," Alex said firmly.

"That's what everyone says."

Alex smiled a lopsided, tired grin. It erased the tense set of his face from moments before. "The morning I left he warned me not to antagonize you, you know."

"Well, then consider him a prophet. Look what disobeying him got you." I laughed and leaned back into the couch, allowing myself to relax.

"Thank you, for telling me," Alex reached across the cushions and held my hand, threading his fingers through mine. "I will discuss matters with Ian privately. Together we can figure out what to do. I'd rather be over-prepared than surprised. I have always loved your family. I would be heartbroken if something came between us."

I smiled, hoping I had done the right thing. My thoughts soothed any fears, wondering if this had been Ian's plan all along. To get more information by having me share his concerns and build an alliance on trust and not on marriage. Shaking my head, I stood and excused myself. Our fingers disentangled only at the last possible moment, our arms floating back down to our sides slowly.

Back in bed, I slept soundly.