Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance

by K. E. Saxon

  “Why not show Callum your treasure box, Alleck?” Jesslyn said into the awkward silence, hoping to ease the tension between the two. “I’m sure he’d like to see all the different things you’ve acquired.”

  “Aye, Mama,” her son said with no enthusiasm. He scooted off of the stool, sulkily keeping his head down as he shuffled back into his bedchamber to retrieve his coffer. Clearly, he did not want to show Callum his treasures, but knew Jesslyn would’ve punished him if he’d told her ‘nay’.

  Jesslyn turned back to Callum and explained, “The casket belonged to my late husband. ‘Tis one of the few tokens Alleck has of his father and ‘tis a highly cherished possession. He’ll be given his father’s sword and other armor as well, when the time comes.”

  While Alleck was busy in the other room, Jesslyn thought to reassure her betrothed of her son’s character. “Alleck is usually very well-behaved. He has been a great help to me since his father’s death, but he now has it in his head that he is the man of the family and must protect me. And ‘twas only due to his dislike of seeing a man kiss me that made him act so rudely toward you. He’s not used to seeing such.”

  “But, how can this be—were you not betrothed to my cousin?”

  “Aye, but that was not the type of connection Daniel and I shared—‘twas more an alliance formed from our long friendship. I implore you to have patience with my son until he can become adjusted to our betrothal.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “My beautiful lady, you worry overmuch. I see that the lad is distressed, and even understand it. I shall, in future, endeavor to be more circumspect in my attentions toward you in the lad’s presence.”

  Jesslyn smiled then as well, her cheeks warming with pleasure. “My thanks.”

  *

  Alleck sat on his bed, looking in his treasure box and delaying his return. He did not want to go back in the room with his mama and the red-haired man—it made his tummy feel achy and jittery.

  Sighing when he heard his mother call out his name from the front chamber, he closed the lid on his treasures and picked up his box. He supposed he was going to have to show the rotten mother-stealer his private hoard. Why did his mama have to tell his secrets? Now he’d have to find a new hiding place, or the man would take his treasure box, too.

  As Alleck slowly traversed the space between his bedchamber door and the stools by the hearth, he eyed the man warily, dreading the coming exhibition. At last reaching his destination, he sat down hard on the stool, his knuckles white as they held his treasure trove tight against his chest.

  “Open the cask, Alleck, and show Callum what you’ve got inside,” his mother said.

  He slowly released his death grip and opened the lid, lifting it and angrily thrusting it up to the man’s face.

  *

  Callum’s head snapped back, else his nose would have been sorely scraped on the thing. “Let us see what you have then,” he said, looking inside. There was, he saw immediately, an abundance of laddish delights culled together, and lying in loose abandon at the bottom of the wooden container: A leather thong, a shiny flat rock, what looked like a strand of braided horse mane, a small whistle, a few clay marbles, and a cloth pouch with a piece from a knucklebone set edging out of the top.

  Recalling the many hours he’d spent with his own father, and even his grandfather, playing the game and learning valuable lessons in reasoning that later transferred to the battlefield, Callum brought out the bag of knucklebones and said, “Do you play? I’ve been known to play a few rounds on occasion. Mayhap we could have a game sometime—I could show you a few tricks I’ve learned. What say you?”

  It didn’t escape Callum’s amused notice that the lad turned a pleading look in his mother’s direction, evidently hoping she would not insist on him agreeing to the match.

  “My son does enjoy a good game of knucklebones—I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have some instruction from you. Why not play a round now?” she said, looking from Callum to Alleck and then back to Callum again.

  “Of course.” Callum said, already opening the pouch and dropping a couple of the pieces into his palm.

  The lad shrugged one shoulder and on a sullen sigh, he said, “Aye.”

  “I must gather some water to do our washing, so I shall leave the two of you to get to know each other better,” Jesslyn said then and turned to retrieve her bucket.

  There was a small bronze disc caught in the loose threads inside the pouch, so Callum reached in and lifted it from its moorings, bringing it towards the light of the hearth to get a better view of the design. “Where did you get this coin?” he asked. “I remember seeing a few of them when I was a young lad. I believe my uncle Jamison brought them back from Jerusalem.”

  *

  Jesslyn looked up from her task. “Alleck found it in his shoe one day when he fell asleep by the loch. We know not how it came to be there,” she said, deciding it best not to mention Alleck’s belief that a ‘magic giant’ placed the coin there—at least until Callum and her son were better acquainted. She came up beside her betrothed, her gaze caught on the curious piece. “Do you know what the symbols mean—or what place the coin was made?”

  “I remember asking my uncle that very question, and he told me they were from eastern Asia,” he said absently, still examining the piece. “He got them from one of his slaves who’d come from there.”

  *

  Alleck was glad that his mama had not told the mother-stealer about his magic giant. He’d only try and take the giant from him, too, then.

  His mother took the coin from the red-haired man and, after studying it a moment herself, placed it back in the casket. Then, gathering her soiled clothes and washing implements into her arms, she bid farewell to them.

  That was when Alleck got his first lesson in knucklebone warfare. It was merciless, and horrible, and not the least bit fun. He was relieved when his mother finally came back and told him it was time to wash for supper.

  *

  “I shall see you up at the keep, then,” Callum said to Jesslyn at the door a few minutes later.

  “You look quite pleased. Did you enjoy teaching my son your gaming trick?”

  Callum nodded and smiled. “Aye. He’s still a bit to learn in the way of losing without a show of temper, but he has much potential.”

  Jesslyn frowned. “I hope you did not beat him too soundly.”

  “Nay, ‘twas no more than my own father did with me when he used the game as a tool to teach me the same lesson.”

  Jesslyn nodded, appeased

  Callum looked over her shoulder and, evidently seeing that her son was well out of sight, bent down and brushed a brief kiss on her cheek. “Until later, then,” he said before stepping over the open portal.

  Her son ambled back into the front chamber just as she was shutting the door behind Callum. “I’m too weary to eat at the great hall,” he said sleepily, rubbing his eye. “Can I stay here and go to bed?”

  Her bairn was almost asleep on his feet. “Only if you eat one of these bannock cakes with some cheese first.”

  He nodded.

  Jesslyn felt his brow to make sure he did not have a fever and, finding none, waited for him to finish his supper before tucking him into bed and making her way toward the keep.

  *

  The purple haze of dawn enveloped the two lads as they scurried towards the boulder only just now visible through the tall stand of trees.

  “I thought we were caught when I heard ol’ MacVie callin’ his dogs. Did’ya think so too, Alleck?” Niall said, huffing as he continued running behind Alleck.

  “Aye, I surely did,” Alleck gasped out through jagged breaths.

  A gaggle of geese scrambled from their roost in the trees in a loud blast of honks and flapping of long wings. “Aaaaah!” the two lads screamed grabbing hold of each other and holding tight.

  “‘Tis the Boabhan Sith!” Niall’s voice quavered.

  “Sshhh!” Alleck cautioned softly. Then, with more
strength, he said, “Nay, ‘twas only our loud voices that made’em flee.” Disengaging from his comrade in adventure, he threw his arm wide. “See? No one else is about. ‘Sides, the sun is peeking o’er the hills now—and I brought a horseshoe, just in case.”

  Niall’s sigh was filled with relief. “Aye, they like not the sun—or cold iron.”

  The lads continued walking toward the boulder. When they’d at last arrived at their destination, Alleck stretched up on tiptoe to place the bag of vegetables on the top. As he’d also brought the gigantic boot they’d found a few days before, he took it from the pouch strapped across his shoulder and put it next to the food.

  Afterward, he stood quietly for several long seconds, looking around and hoping to see the giant, but found no sign of him. “We must get home before our mamas notice we’re not abed,” Alleck said at last, tugging Niall’s hand to get his feet moving. “Hurry.”

  Neither lad saw the massive, dark-haired warrior come from the cover of trees and take the offering.

  CHAPTER 12

  Daniel was in the great hall presiding over a dispute between two cottars when he heard a thud followed by a series of full-mouthed, feminine groans. The stool crashed to the floor behind him as he leapt to his feet and bolted toward the entry.

  “Grandmother!” he exclaimed. In the next instant, he was on his knees beside her prone form. “Are you hurt badly? Can you stand?” he asked, frantic to get her off the hard, cold tiles.

  She gave him a pained nod. “I’ve turned my ankle and my hip and thigh ache—but I should be able to stand, with some assistance.”

  “Alright.” Daniel put his arms around her and brought her to her feet with care. “How did this happen?”

  “‘Twas my own fault. I stumbled over the accursed threshold as I was coming in from the courtyard.” She winced then, trying with little success to put a bit of weight on the injured leg. “I will not be able to walk up those stairs on this ankle, I fear.”

  Daniel lifted his grandmother in his arms and started toward the stairs leading to the upper chambers. As he passed the entrance to the great hall, he called out to one of the servants, “Inform my wife of the accident. She will find us in Lady Maclean’s bedchamber.”

  A few moments later, he placed his grandmother on top of the blanket that covered her bed and said, “Think you you’ve broken bones?” Panicked at the thought, he did not wait for her reply, instead beginning his exam of the ankle to determine the answer.

  His grandmother hissed in a breath but thankfully allowed him to continue his gentle probing. “Nay, lad, worry not. For I’ve only the turned ankle and, tho’ I’m sure to be black and blue where I hit the ground, surely naught has been brok—.”

  “A maid just told me that you’ve taken a fall!” his wife cried, throwing the door so wide in her haste to enter that it slammed into the wall. “Are you hurt badly?” she asked, unknowingly echoing his own words as she rushed to the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. Turning to him then, she asked, “Is she hurt badly?”

  “Be at ease, wife. For I’ve found no grave injuries, thus far. Only a sprain to her ankle and a badly bruised side from the fall she took. I will need to bind her ankle, however, and examine her side as well.”

  He turned back to his grandmother. “I think I’ve some herbs that, when mulled in wine, will ease your pain.” As he walked toward the door, he told them, “I go now to retrieve my healer’s box. I shall return shortly.”

  *

  Healer’s box? Maryn watched wide-eyed as Daniel left the chamber, stunned that she’d been wed to him so many sennights and had had no idea he was trained in the healing arts. It seemed there were many layers to her handsome husband, and she’d just discovered another one.

  Turning back to Lady Maclean, she asked, “Did you know of Daniel’s healing abilities? Then, seeing the white line around the older woman’s lips as she pressed them together, Maryn immediately felt ashamed of her negligence. “Is there naught I can do to make you more easy? Your gown must be constraining you now, let me take it from you.”

  “I’m too sore to move, lass,” Lady Maclean said in a strangled voice. “I believe the thing must be cut from me. Have you a dirk?”

  “Aye.” Maryn pulled the blade from the sheath attached to her girdle and gingerly split the front of the gown. Then she helped Lady Maclean roll to her uninjured side so she could pull the garment from under her. Concerned that they’d not be able to get her back into another, she left the chemise intact. It was flimsy enough to push up on one side so that Daniel might examine the bruises. She brought out another blanket from the chest at the end of the bed and covered the older woman with it. It calmed Maryn to see the relaxed, much less pained expression o’ertake the older woman’s countenance now that she was no longer encumbered by the tight, heavy clothing.

  “I’ve known of my grandson’s skills for many years,” Lady Maclean said, at last responding to Maryn’s query. “His mother sent us tidings of him as he grew and she told us of his training in the healing arts. The lady was a healer as well and she passed the knowledge down to her son. I believe his grandfather, Laird MacLaurin, was insistent that his warriors learn the rudiments of wound dressing.”

  *

  Once Daniel returned with his healing supplies, he made quick work of wrapping the ankle in tight, long strips of linen before resting it on two pillows. Afterward, and as a precaution, he probed the bones along his grandmother’s injured side, thankfully finding no breaks. The bruising was bad, but manageable.

  “I’ll make a sleeping draught for you to help you rest. You’ll need to stay abed for at least a sennight.”

  “Daniel, my dear!” his grandmother exclaimed. “Have you forgotten so quickly? My daughter is to wed in only two days’ time and we were to begin our journey on the morrow.” She tried to lift herself up then but, unable to hold her weight, fell back against the pillows.

  The exercise only convinced Daniel further that his aged relative was in no condition to travel. “You cannot attend, Grandmother. You must rest and heal. But worry not, for I shall make the journey and represent you.”

  Turning to his wife, he said, “I need you to remain here to take care of her.”

  She nodded her agreement. Turning back to her injured charge, she said, “Aye, Grandmother Maclean, Daniel is right. The journey was going to be hard for you anyway. Now, with these injuries, you must see that ‘tis impossible for you to travel.”

  Daniel placed his hand on his grandmother’s shoulder. “I’ll explain what happened—I’m sure your daughter will understand.”

  Evidently realizing the truth of their words, his grandmother finally relented with a doleful nod.

  “If you have any gifts or messages to send, I shall be pleased to take them,” Daniel told her.

  His grandmother pointed dejectedly toward a wooden chest in the corner of the chamber. “Aye, I’ve a coffer full of gifts for her.”

  Daniel departed the following morn, with his much-too-affable cousin at his side, and their grandmother’s gifts and missives in tow.

  *

  “I do so regret not being able to make the journey to see my dear daughter wed,” Lady Maclean said the day of the union as she lay supine in her bed.

  “Aye, but once you are healed, you may have a long visit; fret not, I pray you,” Maryn replied, holding her charge’s fragile hand in her own as she sat at the side of her bed.

  She could not seem to curb her worry over the lady’s health. The poor woman was bruised from thigh to shoulder. “Are you in pain, Grandmother Maclean? Mayhap you’d like a sip of wine?” She tried to pull away to pour some out, but was not released.

  “Nay, lass. The pain is bearable and I want a clear head.”

  The door swung open just then, hitting the wall with a loud bang and startling the life out of Maryn. “Blood of Christ,” she mumbled under her breath, swinging her head in the direction of the noise.

  The lad, Alleck, rushed in
, tugging his mother behind him. “Gran’ma Maclean! Gran’ma Maclean! The magic giant gave me another coin. See?” He barreled into Maryn in his attempt to get to the older woman’s side, holding out his grubby, open-palmed hand with the coin in it.

  Maryn teetered on her stool, but quickly righted herself.

  Jesslyn pulled on the lad’s tiny hand and admonished, “Alleck! You are not to shove past people, ‘tis rude. Now give your regrets to Maryn for oversetting her.”

  “Sorry, Lady Maryn,” the lad said, his eyes fixed upon Lady McLean’s countenance, eagerly awaiting her reaction.

  Jesslyn gave Maryn an apologetic look.

  Maryn giggled, shaking her head in good-humored understanding.

  “Help me sit up, lass,” Lady Maclean said to Maryn, “so that I may get a better look at this new treasure of Alleck’s.” She studied it closely for a moment. “It looks to be of the same minting as the other.” There was worry in her gaze when she lifted it to the lad. “How did the ‘magic giant’ get this to you, Alleck?”

  “When I brung his food to the boulder this morn!” the lad dropped his mother’s hand and rested his elbows on the bed next to Lady Maclean. “It was layin’ next to it when we got there!” One foot bounced on the floor in his excitement, causing the bed to jiggle.

  Lady Maclean winced and Jesslyn pushed her hand down on the lad’s leg to stop its fidgeting. “Be still, my son, you hurt Lady Maclean,” she instructed.

  The older woman stroked the lad’s cheek. “You are quite pleased, are you not, laddie? It seems you’ve found a friend in a wood faery.”

  He giggled with glee. “Aye!”

  “What does this giant look like—have you seen him?” she asked then.

  He nodded. “He’s really, really big,” he said, standing on the tip of his toes and stretching his arms first above his head and then out at his sides, “and he has long, straight hair—as black as a raven’s feathers. He’s got a hairy chin and slant-y brown eyes, like this.” He pressed his forefingers to the outer corners of his eyes and lifted up a bit.

  Lady Maclean squinted, her brow raised in speculation as the lad described the giant.