“Yes. May I have the pleasure of presenting Mr. James MacDonald to the MacLeod?”
The two Highlanders, one sitting, one standing, bowed somewhat distantly to each other as the king, with a flourish of his hand, made the introduction.
“Perhaps,” continued MacLeod suavely, “your friend from Sleat will do a like obligement for yourself.”
“I shall not put him to that trouble,” said the king airily. “I am of such small account that it would be a pity to put upon a Highland chieftain the task of pronouncing my name. I am called the Guidman of Ballengeich, very much at your service, sir.”
“Guidman, meaning farmer of course?” asked Dunvegan.
“Meaning small farmer,” said the king with a graceful inclination of the head.
The tones of the MacLeod had not been too cordial from the first, but they became less so at this confession of low quality on the part of his visitor.
“You will forgive my ignorance, but where is Ballengeich?”
“It is a little steading near Stirling, but of more value than its size would indicate, for I am fortunate in possessing the custom of the court.”
“You cater for the castle then?” asked MacLeod frigidly.