Braden grabbed another hunk of bread and headed outside. He caught up with his cousins as they passed several guards heading in to break their fasts. Some ate at home, some came for the porridge Aunt Maddie made available for any warriors.
Connor asked, “Everything set for the morrow? There are no changes?”
“Nay,” Braden said, lowering his voice. “I needed to apologize to your sire for momentarily losing my head.”
Roddy and Connor glanced at each other before returning their gaze to Braden. “Well, well, well. Sounds like you are maturing. Apparently that little talk we had made you decide to avoid any more snowbanks in your future.” Roddy jested. “Let’s get down to business, though. How do you wish to choose our guards?”
They made a plan, then headed out to the lists. Some were already there, so Braden made the announcement about choosing warriors for the morning journey. As soon as they said there might be a battle, volunteers barraged them for a place on the team. While they practiced daily, they didn’t see battle often, and the youngest of the group usually begged to be involved in any possible combat.
Braden joined Roddy, who stood talking with Moray and Keith.
Keith said, “You wish to spar with me? I’ll take you on.”
“Sure,” Braden replied, unsheathing his sword and taking a couple of practice swings. “We’ll see if you’re strong enough to earn the right to travel with us on the morrow.”
Keith grinned. “I plan to be there.” He unsheathed his weapon and went at Braden with little warning, but he easily defended himself.
The two practiced for a while without any conversation, Roddy and Moray quietly observing them. After a short time, Braden decided to put a question to the brothers. The matter had been weighing on him. “You both well know that I’ve been trying to understand what drove Ronan to take his own life. I can’t well wrap my head around it and until I do, I’m afraid I won’t be at peace. I spoke with Marta at the festivities last eve, and she swears there was no one else in her life but Ronan. Did he truly believe she’d strayed?”
“He told Mama he believed there was someone else. Why can’t you let this go and try to heal like the rest of us?” Keith asked, furrowing his brow.
“Because I want answers. I don’t believe Ronan would take his own life, even with a good reason.” Braden swung in a circle, bringing the flat of his sword against the hilt of Keith’s sword, but he blocked it since both of them were familiar with that move.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Grant, but ‘tis what Mama said. I’ve never known my mother to lie.”
“I would never call your mother a liar. Don’t misconstrue my question.” How else could he find the information he needed but to ask those closest to Ronan? His guilt over his failure to realize his friend was hurting had struck him.
“Mayhap you’re trying to distract all the attention from you to another,” Moray said from the sidelines.
The words had bite to them, and Braden shifted his position to get a better look at the man. Still, he had not forgotten Uncle Alex’s advice. He did his best to focus on his opponent and not on another lad’s words.
“What do you mean, Moray?” he asked carefully, trying not to provoke him.
“Mayhap ‘tis your fault, but you can’t accept that and you want to find another to blame.”
Braden set his sword down and stepped back from Keith, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You have it wrong, Moray. I just want answers. Don’t we all wish for the same?”
“Is it true, Braden? Did you upset my brother the day before he jumped?” Keith asked.
“Nay,” Braden barked, though he fought his instincts and controlled his temper to the best of his ability. “Those words we had were long before he jumped.”
“Then stop stirring up trouble,” Moray bellowed. “We’ve been through enough.” He whirled around and stalked off the field, drawing the attention of a few others in the lists. Thankfully, their attention was quickly diverted again by something Connor had announced to the crowd about what skills he wished to observe.
“Ignore him,” Keith said. “He just wishes to stop talking about Ronan. He misses him.”
Braden agreed, since the entire conversation had gained him naught. He grabbed a nearby skin of water and took several swigs—only to nearly drop it when he saw a new group of warriors at the stables. He recognized his adopted brother Loki and Loki’s adopted son Kenzie.
But it was the lad who’d dropped from his horse and come running straight toward them who’d caught his attention.
Cairstine’s son.
He motioned to Roddy and the two of them headed toward the newcomers, but the lad didn’t slow. Once he reached them, he launched himself at Roddy, screaming, “Please save my mama.”
The lad was upset and exhausted.
What’s wrong with your mother, lad,” Braden pressed, “and where is she?”
He looked at Braden and said, “My name is Steenie, and Papa put Mama in the cellars. He locked her up and won’t let her out. I ran away to find someone to save her. Please help Mama.”
Judging by the expressions on their faces, Loki and Roddy did not recognize the lad, but his words filled Braden with urgency. The arsehole had locked her up?
“We found him hiding in the trees alone, and he insisted that we bring him to the Grants, specifically you, Roddy,” Loki explained. “He was looking for the yellow-haired Grant with arms like tree trunks.”
Roddy glanced at his upper arms and then grinned. “You wanted me, lad? How do you know me?”
“I saw you when you came to my castle. My papa made me watch from the top of the curtain wall.”
Loki looked at Braden. “He’s pretty young to be out on his own. You have any idea who he’s talking about?”
Braden managed a hasty nod. He was anxious for the lad to talk, but he forced himself to act calmly. Kneeling down next to the bairn, he said, “Steenie, your mama’s name is Cairstine, is it not?”
“Aye, she shouldn’t be locked up. My da did it.” He could see the signs of the lad’s exhaustion.
“Did you ride all night?”
He nodded his wee head, tears appearing in his eyes. “I went out to take a pish and I got distracted. My mama always tells me to pay ‘tention to what I’m doing but I forgot where I was. I practiced my sword because I was mad. Then Paddy the Pony found me, and he carried me this way. I tried to make him go back, but he wouldn’t, and then I wanted to save my mama and I thought I could find you before my da discovered me missing, because if he finds me…” His hands moved to his backside.
“Tell him who your da is,” Loki instructed.
“Greer Lamont. I love my papa, but sometimes he’s mean, especially to Mama. Papa wouldn’t let her out. Will you help me?” He glanced from Roddy to Braden and then back to Loki. “Please? I brought my sword. I can help, though Papa will give me a thrashing if I swing it at him.”
Braden patted his shoulder. “Do not fash. We’ll help you, lad, you can count on it.”
Loki whistled for Kenzie to join them. The lad was still standing near the stables, but he came charging over, his words already flying out of his mouth. “Will you help him, Uncle Braden? Papa and I will go with you.”
Loki said, “We’ll help him, Kenzie. Why don’t you take Steenie to the hall and get him something to eat? Are you hungry, lad?”
Steenie nodded. “Will you take care of Paddy? Please don’t let him leave. He’s my new pet. He’s hungry, too.”
Kenzie said, “I already fed your pony. We can go eat, I think Paddy’s tired.”
“All warriors must eat,” Loki said, motioning for Kenzie to take Steenie to the hall. The two made a wild dash toward the keep.
Loki said, “You know the situation, Braden?”
“Aye, I do, and you can count on me getting the bairn’s mother out of the cellars.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
Braden managed to lower his voice, barely, though he
seethed on the inside.
“If I have to, I’ll kill Greer Lamont.”
Chapter Eleven
Cairstine opened her eyes, then promptly shut them. A persistent throbbing on one side of her head claimed her attention. She reached up to hold her head, hoping to calm the pounding, but her fingers met a huge bump crusted over with dried blood.
She touched it and moaned at the pain that ripped through her.
“Cairstine?” Greer asked. “You are alive? Cairstine, say something.” He knelt next to her bed, his gaze searching hers, an unfamiliar expression on his face.
Greer appeared to be worried.
“What happened?” she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly because of the ache in her head.
“You fell against the wall and hit your head.” He picked her up and set her on his lap, leaning back against the wall.
Bits and pieces came back to her. They’d been in the cellars, talking about Steenie and the crying she’d heard. He’d turned furious over her concern about the bairns, warning her never to speak of them again.
“You pushed me, Greer.” She allowed her head to fall against his chest simply because pain shot down her neck when she tried to hold it upright. A moan ripped from her. “Where’s Steenie? I want to see him. Please?”
“I’m sorry. Aye, I pushed you, but ‘twas an accident. I thought you were as good as dead. Hilda said many die from blows to the head.”
Was she mistaken or had she seen true concern on Greer’s face? Was he capable of remorse? It didn’t matter. She had to find out what had happened to her son. “Steenie? Where is he?”
Greer shouted, “Hilda? She needs you.”
If he’d had any guilt or worry about her well-being, it quickly disappeared.
Hilda came inside, bustling over to the chest to mix a potion for her to drink. “This will make her feel better. Can you look at me, Cairstine?”
Cairstine lifted her gaze, as much as it pained her to move, up to Hilda’s face.
“Good. She’s looking at me straight on. ‘Tis a good sign. If she can lift this potion to her lips on her own, I think she’ll heal.”
Hilda moved back to the chest to finish her concoction. “Here.” She set the goblet in her hand. “Drink this. ‘Twill make the throbbing ebb.”
Greer grabbed it and lifted it to Cairstine’s lips.
Hilda clucked her tongue. “See if she can do it, Greer. ‘Tis how I’ll know if she’s better.”
Cairstine did not care how it got to her lips, so she grabbed the goblet from him and swallowed it down, hoping it worked quickly. When she finished, she repeated herself, “Steenie, where is he?”
“We couldn’t find him,” Greer said, “but now that you’re better, I’ll go back out for him.”
She lifted her gaze to Greer’s again, wondering what had caused the change in his demeanor. If he were showing her some kindness, there had to be something in it for him. Did he actually feel guilty? Her head hurt too much to think on Greer and his motives. She needed to focus on Steenie. Where could he be? How could he have disappeared again so quickly?
“Nay…” she whispered, secretly praying her son had escaped the Lamonts for good. She prayed Braden Grant had come upon him and taken him home.
She closed her eyes and opened them again, surprised to see Blair standing next to Greer. “Blair? Why are you here?”
Distantly, she heard Greer say, “Blair’s not here. Hilda, what’s wrong with her?”
“She’s seeing double. ‘Tis from the bump on her head and the potion.”
Only Hilda’s words sounded even farther away, as if she were deep in a long tunnel. She was quite sure she could fall asleep and not be bothered by their conversation.
She sighed as the pain subsided enough for her to close her eyes, and when she did, she wished she could sleep for days.
***
Braden, Roddy, and Loki joined the wee lads in the hall. As the group settled at one of the trestle tables with Steenie and Kenzie, Uncle Alex joined them. He had heard about Loki’s companion and had come inside to chat with the boy.
Steenie had already polished off two meat pies and was working on a pastry, licking the juice from his fingers. “This is the best ever. May I have another, please? Mama says if I say please, then I may have ‘nother. Does that work here, too?”
Uncle Alex sat in a chair and rested his feet on a nearby bench. “Aye,” he said. “Kenzie will find you another, but first tell me about your keep. How many of you live there?”
Steenie set his pastry down and folded his hands on his lap. “Who are you, my lord?”
Alex smirked as he answered the lad. “I’m Alexander Grant. I used to be chieftain of the Grants, but now my two eldest lads share the lairdship, though they’re away at the moment. That puts me back in charge.”
Steenie’s eyes widened. “You’re the laird? My lord. My laird. What should I call you?”
“Call me Alex. ‘Tis fine for now. Now about your castle…”
“I live with my mama and papa, and my uncle Blair. Blair is Papa’s brother. The Lamont brothers, ‘tis what the guards call them.”
“And your mama?”
“She’s called Cairstine, but she’s locked up in the cellars. Will you get her out? I miss my mama. I’m probably not supposed to say that if I want to be a warrior. Papa says she coddles me.”
Alex whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but I miss my mama every day. I wish she were still here to coddle me.”
“You do?” The lad stared at Uncle Alex in disbelief, and Braden couldn’t help but wonder if he was being honest. He guessed he was since he’d never known his uncle to tell anything but the truth.
“I do. And I miss my papa, too. He loved my mama verra much. He was verra kind to her.”
Braden held his breath, knowing exactly what his uncle was doing, hoping to bait the lad into discussing his mother’s treatment by his sire. His uncle never failed to impress him with his cleverness, but would Steenie be honest?
Steenie stared at his hands in his lap. “I miss my mama, but not Papa. He thrashes me all the time.”
“Is your papa kind to your mama?”
Steenie’s eyes teared up and he whispered, “Nay. He’s always yelling at her. But he doesn’t thrash her the way he does me. When he gets mad at her, he hits her in the face. He uses his fist with Mama. Sometimes he puts her in the cellars, like he did this time.”
Then he surprised everyone by pointing to Braden. “He said men are not supposed to hit people smaller than them. Is that true, Alex?” He had the most serious expression Braden had ever seen on a child. He’d wondered what Cairstine had been forced to deal with, but now he wondered about the lad, too. His life could not be easy.
“Aye, ‘tis true. I never hit women or bairns. And you will not either, will you?”
His eyes widened and he shook his head furiously.
“Is your mama’s name Cairstine Muir?”
He frowned and thought about the question for a few moments before he answered. “Nay, just Cairstine, but Mama tells me stories about the great Muirs. ‘Tis the same? About their laird and mistress and the special holidays they celebrated. Do you mean those Muirs?”
“Aye, those Muirs. How old are you, Steenie?”
“Five winters,” he replied, puffing his chest out a bit. “I’m old enough to help my mother now. Will you get her out of the cellars? Tell my da he cannot keep her there?”
“I will. I’ll send some of our warriors out there to get her out of the cellars. Will that make you happy?”
“Aye,” he said, bolting out of his seat. “Now? Can we go now?”
“Nay, we shall leave at dawn.”
“But…but…”
“We’ll get her freed, Steenie. I promise you.”
Braden knew what was going through Steenie’s mind, the same exact thing that was going through his mind.
He couldn’t wait until dawn.
He was going after her tonight.
***
Cairstine woke up, surprised to find herself back in the cellars. As soon as she sat up, she knew she hadn’t dreamed the entire sequence because her head pounded furiously, just like before. Perhaps she’d only dreamed the bit about Greer expressing guilt over what he’d done. It had been the first time he’d shown remorse about anything.
Mayhap she’d been down here all along, not in her comfortable bed.
She’d never had a headache this bad before. Reaching her hand up to the side of her head, she moaned as soon as her fingers touched the large swelling, still crusted over with blood.
Steenie. Had they found Steenie yet?
She forced herself to stand, and while she was a wee bit wobbly, she managed to walk to the door in a straight line. Once there, she peeked through the window as best she could, searching for anyone.
“Hilda?”
As soon as the name left her mouth, her head throbbed again. “Ow.”
“Lass, you’re awake?” Hilda came rushing down the passageway from a distance away. “How do you feel?”
“My head is still causing me too much pain.” She massaged her forehead to see if that would help, using the softest touch possible, but to no avail.
“I can give you more potion.”
“Nay, nay. Not if it puts me to sleep again. Where’s Steenie? Have they found him yet? Why am I back here? I thought Greer was being nice to me, though mayhap my head is addled.”
“Nay, they have not found Steenie. Greer and Blair are both out looking for him. ‘Tis why you’re back down here. Greer was afraid you’d go out searching for the lad on your own if you were not contained, and ‘twould not be safe for you. He thought it best to keep you locked up. He’ll set you free when he returns.”
“Why did he not leave me with you?” She placed her hand over her forehead, then leaned her hand against the bars in the small opening in the door, hoping to alleviate some of the stabbing pain in her head.
Hilda cupped her cheek through the window. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. There is something I must do, and even though it bothers me something fierce, I have no choice in the matter.” With that, she dropped her hand.
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