Highland Wolf (Highland Brides, #10)(53)
That thought in mind, Conall didn’t wait for Hamish to respond, but turned to hurry after his uncle and the others. He caught up to them quickly, but didn’t slow. Instead, he rushed past, a little desperate now to get to Claray and make sure she was all right.
“The bailey is beautiful like this,” Kenna said on a sigh as they moved through the young forest that had grown up inside the wall. “But I suppose Conall will tear out all the trees and such.”
“No doubt,” Lady MacKay agreed. “The men would have trouble practicing at battle around all these trees.”
“And they’ll need room for the stables to be built,” Claray pointed out, wondering if she would be able to convince Conall to build a special section in the stables for any wounded beasties she found, like her father had done for her at MacFarlane.
“I can no’ imagine how hard it will be to remove all these trees,” Kenna said, sounding dismayed now.
“It should no’ be that hard,” Claray assured her, watching where she was stepping to avoid tripping as she pointed out, “Most o’ the trees are only ten to twenty years old by the looks o’ it, and ha’e surface roots. Wrap ropes or chain around the trunk and attach it to a couple o’ horses and these trees should pull out easily, roots and all,” she assured her.
“Really?” Kenna asked with interest.
“Aye. They’d probably all ha’e blown o’er ere this if no’ fer the curtain wall blocking any strong winds,” she said, unsurprised when Kenna immediately began an interested survey of the roots growing across the ground.
“Why did the roots grow like that instead of making their way into the ground?” Kenna asked, her gaze moving up the oak tree she was now passing.
Claray gave a shrug. “The dirt was probably too hardpacked fer the roots to go deep after a century o’ hundreds o’ men and servants working and walking in the bailey. Ye ken plants need soft, fresh-turned earth to grow well.”
“Hmm,” Kenna said, and then laughed. When Claray and Lady MacKay eyed her with curiosity, she explained, “I was just thinkin’, Conall was probably cursin’ up a storm when he saw all the trees in here, but they’re no’ only goin’ to be easy to pull out, which is surely better than havin’ to cut down trees in the surrounding forest, but they do no’ have to be dragged from the woods to be used to build the stables or whatnot. They’re right here already. ’Twill save him time and trouble in the end.”
“Aye,” Claray agreed with a faint smile. There was always a silver lining if you looked for it, and it appeared Kenna was one who looked. She liked that.
“Oh, my.”
Claray glanced with curiosity to Lady MacKay when she murmured those words and saw that Conall’s aunt was a few steps ahead of her, at the edge of the small forest they’d been walking through. Seeing that her mouth was agape, Claray stepped up beside her and followed her gaze. Her eyes widened at once as she stared up at Deagh Fhortan keep, and Claray found herself echoing Lady MacKay’s words. “Oh, my.”
“Oh,” Kenna murmured, joining them now too. “’Tis so lovely.”
Vines started where the trees ended. They started at the base of the keep wall and wove their way down to the edge of the woods, as well as up the wall. They were like a large rush mat before them, and covered the walls in a tapestry of greenery that covered the thirty-foot keep wall from top to bottom. Claray couldn’t even tell where the windows were, or if it even had any, and the door was nearly fully covered as well, leaving just a hole about a foot high and three feet wide at the bottom of where large double doors had no doubt been.
“Giorsal loved ivy,” Lady MacKay said quietly. “She said it represented fidelity and eternal love. Bean knew that she liked it and had some planted on either side of the doors to please her. He then set a servant to the task of cutting it back regularly to make sure it did not go wild.”
“He sounds a wonderful husband,” Kenna said on a sigh.
“He was,” Lady MacKay assured them. “And Giorsal was a wonderful wife to him. They truly loved each other and Bryson. They were a happy family and a joy to be around. I missed them terribly after they died.” She sighed, and then confessed, “I still do.”
Claray glanced to the woman, noticed that Kenna had reached out to take her hand in a comforting gesture and turned her eyes quickly back to the keep.
“Conall was six when they died,” Kenna said after a moment.
“Aye,” Lady MacKay said, but there was a question in her voice.
“But they had no other children?” she asked with a small frown.
“Nay. That is the only thing that made her sad during all the years I knew her,” Lady MacKay told them solemnly. “She wanted more children, little brothers and sisters for Bryson, but year after year passed with nothing . . . and then it happened.”
Claray glanced at her sharply to see her nodding.
“Giorsal was with child when she died. She was only four months along at the time, but so happy.”
Claray let her breath out on a sigh, her gaze moving back over the ivy spread out before them. The more she heard, the more tragic it all seemed . . . and so unfair. Conall’s family was not the only one destroyed by the poisoning all those years ago. The entire clan had been all but decimated that night. They deserved some happiness and some real good fortune, and Claray determined then and there to do what she could to ensure they got it.