"Sorry? Ye saved her life, laddie. The horse surely would have killed her." Macoran turned his attention back to the woman in his arms. "Are ye hurt, can ye stand?" She nodded, so he lowered her feet to the ground and held on until she got her balance.
Everyone was watching them, even Macoran's wife who still sat in her chair on the landing and Jirvel began to feel ill at ease. She wiggled free of his hand, straightened her frock, brushed the dirt off her long sleeves and smiled at her daughter. "I am fine now." But when she started to curtsey to her laird, a pain shot through her right foot.
She tried to hide her wince, but Macoran was watching her face too closely and took hold of her arm again. He looked around for a chair, spotted one and helped her to it. As soon as she sat down, Macoran knelt down, removed her shoe and felt her ankle for broken bones. "Can ye move it, lass?"
"Well enough to kick ye."
He smiled, several of the people laughed and the mood changed back to the festivities of the day. But Macoran was not convinced until she moved her foot up and down and then side to side. He slipped her shoe back on and stood up. Then he turned to Stefan. "She is to rest and I will have a lad see all of ye home safely." He watched Kannak fuss over her mother for a moment, and then he put a fatherly arm around Stefan's shoulders and began to weave the boy through the crowd toward the landing. "All o' the members o' my clan are precious to me and I am tortured that I did not realize Kannak and her mother were alone. Tell me, what can I do to help them?"
Unsure of how much he should say, Stefan hesitated. "Well…"
Macoran stopped and removed his arm from the boy's shoulders. "Go on, I need to hear it."
"When Kannak's father left he took all the weapons. I worry when I leave them alone to go on the hunt."
Laird Macoran spat on the ground, "That scunner! I will see to it. What else?"
"They have no hooks for fishing. I go after dark when the fish will come to the light and I can spear them. And…they need new clothing."
"Yer a good laddie and ye will be a great lad someday. Tell me, what shall yer reward be for saving Jirvel's life?"
A slow grin crossed Stefan's face, "Yer sword."
Macoran roared with laughter and slapped the boy on the back. "When ye have saved ten lasses, it will be yers. Come, I will have ye meet my wife and children." He stopped, glanced back to see if Jirvel was alright and then leaned just a little closer. "My wife be not so friendly, but pay her no mind. Her father made her marry me and she be unhappy still."