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builders, warriors and the priest all of whom came to the market to barter for food on a regular basis.
    Jirvel kept one back and used the other coin to afford vegetables, fruit, wheat and precious life giving seeds of various kinds they would need for the planting. The fresh salmon was tempting, but she reminded herself they now had a boy who could fish for them.
    The market was alive with buyers and sellers all touting their remarkable victory over the Vikings the day before. Only three dead Scots and twenty six Vikings killed. “They won ’t be coming back here again anytime soon,” they all agreed.
    Kannak and Jirvel listened to all the gossip and nodded when appropriate. Then their laird arrived and Kannak held her breath. Everything that happened in the clan was Laird Macoran ’s business whether her mother liked it or not. They had to tell him about Stefan and her mother was not an accomplished liar. Even so, Kannak knew enough to remain silent and let her mother do the talking.
    “Good day to ye, Jirvel,” Laird Macoran said. He waited for them to curtsy and then smiled his approval. He was a tall man with a dimple in his chin normally covered by his beard. His thick hair was a dark shade of red, as was his facial hair and his eyes were green. He was a fair minded man who smiled often and nearly everyone loved him. Macoran was dressed in a skirt made of a dark green and white plaid with shoes that laced up his bare legs to just below his knees. It was a new form of dress which seemed to be sweeping across all of Scotland, or so the gossip reported. Nevertheless, some of the men found the new dress unfamiliar and still wore their baggy long pants.
    Jirvel did not return Macoran’s smile. “Have ye any word o’ my husband?”
    Laird Macoran wrinkled his brow. Jirvel ’s question meant there were now three men who had taken their leave without his knowledge and he was not pleased.  “Nay, I have heard nothing. The two o’ ye are alone then?”
    “Quite, but ye needn ’t worry, we can manage?”
    “How?”
    “Just now ye care about us?”
    He looked disturbed by Jirvel ’s outburst, started to touch her arm and then drew his hand back. “I will send a lad…”
    She suddenly realized others were listening and bowed her head. “Ye need not bother, my brother sent a laddie to work the land.”
    “Yer brother knows ye are alone?”
    “Nay, he does not know. The laddie be unexpected and I am grateful to have the help.”
    “Then I am grateful too.”
    Laird Macoran and Jirvel held their eyes on each other longer than was normal. No one in the clan was as bold as her mother when it came to standing up to Laird Macoran and never had Kannak seen Jirvel this forthcoming, at least not in public. Her mother had just told a lie, did it very well and Macoran seemed to believe her. Kannak was relieved. Yet there was something more…something unsaid between them and this was not the first time Kannak noticed.
    Macoran also realized others were listening, glanced at the girl and thought to change the subject. “Kannak will soon be old enough to marry.”
    At this Jirvel’s anger grew and she narrowed her eyes, “She be but twelve and an only child. She be not yet ready to marry.”
    “She was twelve last year.” He studied the rage rising up in Jirvel ’s eyes and decided not to push his luck. “Perhaps not yet then. I will see this laddie o’ yer’n when I ride the land next.” He nodded and walked away.
    Kannak said nothing as she helped her mother mount the horse and handed her a full basket. Then she got on behind her and accepted a basket one of the men handed her. He was an older man who held his eyes to hers so long it made her uncomfortable enough to turn her head away. She remembered to thank him, but was greatly relieved when her mothe r nudged the side of the horse.
    They were half way home before Jirvel spoke. “Ye must not come to the village so often as afore. Soon the men will be asking