Page 18 of Highland Sky

“Nay, I’m sorry ye fell,” she answered. “I just thought it was funny that ye were just married to my sister and ye landed right in the weddin’ bed.”

“The weddin’ bed?” both Nash and North asked together, turning to look back at the broken bed. The top was open, but his fall had caused the mattress ropes to snap. The pallet was now lying on the ground, with the high wooden sides of the bed all around it. One of the sides was cracked. The curtain that could be pulled across for privacy had ripped partially at the iron fasteners, and was also lying on the ground.

“Is that where we’ll . . . where I’ll . . . I mean . . . where the marriage will be consummated?” asked Nash in shock. If so, this couldn’t be a good omen at all. Not that he thought this marriage had a chance from the beginning but, still, it didn’t look good to him.

“Aye,” said Caitlin, turning and heading for the door. “It’s also where we lay out the dead.”

She exited the infirmary, leaving North and Nash staring at each other, not saying a word.

“Now do ye believe me?” asked Nash. “She all but pushed me to my death bed.”

“I think I’d better get over to the crop fields where I belong,” said North, almost running out the door.

“Thanks for nothin’, Brathair,” Nash called out after him, disgusted to be in such a position.

“What’s all the shoutin’ about? We need to get to work.” Kellina appeared in the doorway. To Nash’s horror, she stood there holding a wooden mallet, a long blade attached to a good-sized handle, a curved knife like a small scythe, and some kind of wooden block mounted on a long wooden pole. Egads, this girl was determined to kill him in one manner or another!

“W-what’s all that?” he asked, with a slight chuckle.

“They are knives and things I need to do my job.”

“What job might that be?” he asked, starting to think of all the ways she would try to kill him with that many weapons. Surely, one weapon was more than enough.

“They are the tools we need for thatchin’ the roof.”

“Och, is that all?” Relief washed through him and he chuckled under his breath, glad to hear it.

“Aye. Why? What did ye think I was goin’ to use them for?” She made a face, and looked at him from the corners of her eyes.

“Well I thought . . . I mean . . . for thatchin’, of course. Here, allow me to carry them for ye.” It was in his best interest to keep these sharp tools far away from his mad bride.

Kellina shrugged. “Have it yer way.” She let him take the tools and then led the way back to the ladder. By now, Nash realized that more of the clansmembers had arrived to help, including her brother. They had carried over a lot more bundles of straw for them to use as thatch.

“Ah, so I am guessin’ the Sutherlands didna burn everythin’ after all,” he remarked, laying the tools on the ground.

“Apparently no’, or we wouldna have anythin’ to use to thatch the roofs,” was her wry answer.

“Do ye always use straw? To thatch a roof, I mean?”

“Nay, no’ always. Sometimes we use reeds or rushes. It can include flax, wheat, heather or broom. We were savin’ the straw for the animals, but since the Sutherlands took most of our livestock, there doesna seem to be much need for it anymore. We will use straw for this roof, but will have to collect reeds from the loch to add to the thatch we have left, as it willna be enough.”

“All right. I am ready to learn.” Nash rubbed his hands together, eager to get this unpleasant chore over with.

“We start at the bottom and work our way up,” she instructed. “The straw is placed down, with the tassel ends goin’ upward. It is spread out slightly. Like this.” She grabbed a bundle, ascended the ladder, and showed him what she meant. “The long ash or willow sways that are split will be used to hold down the straw to the roof beams.” She came down the ladder, pointing to a pile of sticks that her brother threw down at her feet.

“What holds the sways in place?” he asked, honestly not knowing how a roof was thatched since he had never done it before. Back at the MacKeefe Clan, he was always busy fighting and protecting the others, or hunting. He also spent a lot of time tending to the livestock. The roofs were managed by others of his clan, and he’d never had the interest to learn the skill.

“That’s where these come in.” Kellina bent down and picked up another stick that was flatter and about the length of his arm. “The straw will be fastened down by twisted hazel spars. She yanked a sharp dagger from her belt, causing him to jump back. Was she really going to stab him right here in front of everyone? The woman was even crazier than he thought.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her knife gleaming in the sun. “Ye’re a little jumpy, Husband, arena ye?”

“What’s the knife for?” he asked, hoping he didn’t already know the answer to that.

“It’s for sharpenin’ the ends of the spar after I twist it.” She twisted the wood, bending it in half, then used her knife to make the ends pointy. “See how sharp they are now?” She flicked her finger over the points.

“I see. Deadly sharp,” he mumbled under his breath.

“It needs to be sharp in order to pierce the straw and hold the bundles together.”