by Cathy MacRae
The thought occurred she would need thicker clothes to stay warm in the meantime. “Very well. I accept your advice. I will have to cope with the cold until then.”
“’Twill not be necessary. We can have a set of woolens made for ye. ’Tis a herder in the Graham clan who owns a special breed of sheep. The wool from this breed is very fine and soft indeed. ’Twould be no trouble to obtain enough to have two sets of woolens made if ye wish.”
They both mounted and rode toward the village.
“Sounds like a fair solution. I will be happy to pay, of course.”
Duncan tilted his head. “My da willnae allow ye to pay for anything. We owe ye Nessa’s life. He was quite serious about accepting ye as his daughter. He would no more let ye pay for such a necessity than he would Nessa. Ye are under our care.”
Anna’s brow furrowed deeply. “Then I will have to engage in some activity to earn my keep. I have no desire to rely upon the laird’s generosity, only to have him resent it in the future. Particularly when the memory of his gratitude toward me fades. If I am to consider living here, I must have a role to fill. I will not simply be under anyone’s care. Nessa’s value as a daughter and future wife to a neighboring clan is obvious. My worth is less so. I refuse to be a burden and will not be married off to form an alliance.” Her words rang with determination. She meant every one of them.
Chapter 9
The thought of Anna married to someone else sent a shudder down Duncan’s spine. He hadn’t considered the idea his father might arrange a marriage for her or accept an offer from another clan. He was certain she wouldn’t accept, but the suggestion disturbed him far more than he expected.
The raw power of his reaction startled him, and he clenched his hands. He would seek out his father to ask exactly what he had in mind for Anna. His horse sidestepped and tossed his head nervously. Duncan guiltily loosened the reins he fisted.
He realized he hadn’t answered her question. “I thought this might be the case. We could consider a few roles for ye. Though I should warn ye, my father possesses a rather long memory; he willnae forget. Should the possibility exist, my mother will be happy to remind him.”
Anna eyed him curiously. Duncan raised a single finger.
“Fiona, our village healer, is good at tending expectant mothers and delivering babies. She has a passable knowledge of herbal remedies, but she doesnae possess the range of healing skills ye have. Ye would be a highly regarded member of our clan should ye assist her. People who would otherwise die might live because of ye. ’Tis a powerful gift.” He nodded, the idea pleasing him. “I could see our allies bringing their more seriously ill and wounded for ye to tend. Having such a healer would make ye very valuable to our ties with neighboring clans.”
Anna’s lips pursed, thoughtful. “I like this idea very much. Healing is a skill which demands regular use to stay keen.”
Duncan held up a second finger. “Ye are also more learned than anyone in the clan. Yer services as a clerk would be useful, reading and writing treaties and trade agreements with other clans. The laird gave me leave to arrange such a contract with a merchant in Stirling. He owns a tavern and inn and has shown an interest in our blend of whisky. ’Twould be a boon for us to have such an agreement, giving us a steady source of coin. Whilst I am confident in my reading and writing skills, I am not as sure with the Latin often used in such pacts. It can be tricky, with one or two words changing the whole meaning of an agreement.”
“How do you know I am more accomplished than you in Latin?”
Duncan ducked his head slightly, giving her a smirk. “I must confess, I have heard ye a time or two teaching my sister.”
“Eavesdropping? You listened in on our conversations?” Anna’s voice rose.
“Aye, when I heard ye speak Latin it stirred my curiosity. I dinnae make a habit of listening at doorways, but hearing ye drew me in. I meant no offense.”
Anna eyed him speculatively. Duncan quickly changed the subject, holding up three fingers. “Finally, I see how ye are with yer horse. I assume ye trained him?”
Anna nodded, a confident curve to her mouth. “Yes, I have spent time around the stables since I was old enough to walk and have assisted many foals into the world.”
“Ye could have a hand in the care and training of our horses if ye wish. Though beyond yer own, I cannae permit ye to muck stalls. Otherwise, our stable lads would be out of a job,” he added with a crooked smile, hoping to make light of their earlier disagreement.
“I like all of these ideas. I agree to your proposal on one condition.”
Duncan laughed. “I cannae wait to hear it. No doubt ’twill land me into trouble.”
Anna’s eyes lit. “My condition is, you agree to train combat with me. I can only do so much alone and my skills will deteriorate if left untended.”
“Aye, I would be pleased to train with ye. No doubt ’twould be quite beneficial for both of us. ’Twould probably be wise for us to do so away from prying eyes until the clan grows accustomed to ye.”
“May I ask what exactly has been said to the clan about me?”
“Ye have not been told? Ye are from a Lowland clan that had some upheaval, leaving ye seeking a new home. We found ye of course, when ye rescued Nessa. Though people will see and hear the English in ye, ’tis not uncommon for Scots and English to marry close to the border.
“We have not said which clan ye are from, and no one has asked. We suggest Armstrong, as they are many and not too far from yer own on the border. None around here has any ties with them. ’Tis up to ye. We thought ye might desire anonymity, both for yerself and yer remaining kin.”
Anna stopped her horse. “I do not care for lies. However, I see the merit in such a tale. I have deliberated on my situation a fair bit and have concluded, as long as I do not reappear, whoever stole my father’s lands will have no reason to seek me out. My brother was Father’s heir, the true threat. As a woman, I would have no claim on the holding, other than my dower lands, a small estate left in my name. The only thing my appearance would accomplish would be to draw unwanted attention to the manner in which the lands were gained—perhaps even from the crown.”
Duncan pressed a bit further. “What would happen if ye decided to draw such scrutiny to the man who killed yer family and stole yer da’s lands?”
He could see it in her eyes. She still did not trust him fully. Silence grew, the battle within herself clear. Duncan held his breath.
“Anna, I know I havenae earned yer trust yet—”
She waved him off. “No, I was caught in my anger of the situation. Anger of the injustice, anger of my inability to avenge my family. If I go back I would most likely be forced to marry whomever did this, or into his family, to cover the deed and validate the outcome. Unmarried noblewomen are not allowed to remain such for long. My choice would then be to submit to a husband or be punished. I would be isolated, not trusted, and expected to bear an heir. Going back to England under any circumstances is untenable.”
“I can only imagine the rage I would feel were I in yer place. If ye have no other recourse, death seems a more desirable fate.”
She slowly rocked in the saddle in agreement.
“What about friends or allies of yer da? Could they not be counted on to right this act of murder and greed?”
Anna grimaced, her knuckles whitening as her hands tightened on the reins. Orion flicked an ear and tossed his head. “If they were going to do something, they would have done it. My presence would not inspire such a response. Moreover, how do I know who was disgusted by such an act and who mayhap assisted in its execution?”
Duncan tensed at her words. “At least in the Highlands a man knows who his friends are, as well as his enemies. I know ye dinnae want my apologies or pity. I am regretful for yer situation. Ye dinnae deserve it. I cannot decide which is the greater tragedy—that someone would get away with this injustice or yer terrible loss.”
Anna stared at her hands, clearly uncomf
ortable. Duncan chided himself. Idiot for bringing it up again. Half afraid he’d upset her, he waited for her to speak again.
“Where do you have in mind for our training site?” Her voice was strained but clear, and Duncan relaxed.
“A mile or so from here, a strath is sheltered by the forest on all sides. ’Tis low-lying and off the path, so someone would have to stumble upon us to see. The clearing is not very big, but large enough for our needs. Come. I will show ye.” He reined his horse down a nearby path, and Anna followed.
“I would also like to meet Fiona,” she told him. “I need to be educated on what plants grow here, what can be cultivated and where others might be obtained. I want to know if she will be threatened by another encroaching on her position.”
After showing her his intended training spot, Duncan guided her toward the village to Fiona’s home. The stone wall of the one-room croft rose even with Anna’s head, the thatched roof supported by several logs protruding past the walls all around. Mud filled the gaps between the stones, making the small dwelling snug against the cold winter winds. An older woman appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a well-used apron. Duncan greeted her and made the introductions.
“’Tis good to meet ye, Lady Anna.” The pear-shaped woman wore a tunic dress of dark green wool. Her hair, a generous mixture of gray and black, was braided and pulled back into a severe knot. “I have seen yer work. The laird bade me look after the men who were injured recapturin’ our Nessa. Ye have a fine touch. The stitches were verra clean, and nae wounds took to festerin’. ’Tis a tribute to yer skills.”
Duncan was amused to see Anna’s cheeks stain red. Was it the cold, or was she so unused to compliments?
She asked, “You do not mind that I treated the people of your clan?”
The older woman snorted. “Mind? I am the clan midwife. The only reason I treat the sick and injured at all is because ’tis none else. I will gladly hand over the chore if ye are of a mind to take it.”
Ushering them into the cottage, Fiona showed Anna the simple remedies she prepared, the herbs she gathered and where to find them. When Anna asked about other plants, Fiona often didn’t know. She did know clan Graham had access to herbs she did not, and suggested they attend market there. She generously offered Anna any supplies or assistance needed. Anna did the same.
“Where will ye be workin’, milady?”
Duncan caught Anna’s questioning glance.
“Out of the keep for now,” Duncan replied. “We shall see what the laird says, but I feel certain she can use one of the storage rooms off the great hall until they are needed for harvest.”
Bidding Fiona good day, Anna and Duncan continued on their route, stopping by the cooper. They obtained an ash billet, which they lashed to her horse. She stubbornly insisted on paying from her purse with the few coins she possessed. Riding on, they stopped by the weaver’s shop. Duncan inquired about commissioning woolens. They would measure Anna and start as soon as he supplied the wool.
They mounted again and started back toward the keep.
With mild trepidation, Anna invited conversation. “Your horse is quite beautiful. What is his name?”
“His name is Lasair. A gift from the Stewart laird, my grandda, when I became a knight. He has been a faithful companion.”
“His name fits. His coat is almost red as a flame.” And almost as impressive as his master. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she glanced away and resisted allowing the thought further freedom. She eyed Duncan surreptitiously, unable to keep from admiring the way he moved in unison with his mount.
While brushing their horses at the stables, she remembered the question haunting her for some time now. “Duncan, why Nessa? Why did the MacNairns take her, the laird’s daughter?”
He gazed at her a moment before answering. “’Tis a long story. Do ye wish to hear the whole?”
Continuing to brush Orion, she nodded.
“There have always been hard feelings between our clans, going back generations, though I dinnae know why. Typically, ’tis naught more than simple raids of a few cattle or sheep. Same was true between the MacNairn and the Stewart clan. For many years both our clan and the MacNairns wanted an alliance with the Stewarts to form a buffer. The Stewarts wished to remain neutral and not choose sides. This way they benefit from trade with both.”
Anna snorted. She’d seen this sort of maneuvering between English lords in the past.
“When the MacGregor laird, my grandda, died unexpectedly, Kenneth, my da, became laird in his place, nae more than a score and two summers in age. Shortly after, a MacNairn raid on Stewart land went awry. The men had been in their cups, and a lad was brutally killed. The lad was the Stewart laird’s nephew and godson. Da took advantage of the situation and negotiated with the Stewart for my mother’s hand, forming a strong alliance between our clans.
“Since then, the MacNairn laird has sought vengeance upon us. We think he stole Nessa to wed his son. Doing so would put my father at a disadvantage in negotiations with them. Taking her would keep him from being able to engage another clan through her marriage. If we were forced to deal with them, the MacNairn would have strengthened their position whilst weakening ours. Nessa would have been treated poorly. The MacNairn is a cruel man.” A hard look crossed his face. “One of the men ye killed was Adiar MacNairn. I only wish I had been the one to do it. Ye halted any chance they had of forcing a pact with us. Adiar was the laird’s only living son.”
Though more brutal, it didn’t sound unlike the machinations of English nobility. Anna’s chest tightened as she recalled the men who fell under her bow and blade that day. Grabbing a drawknife, she picked up the ash billet, hacking at the length of wood in her hands. Chunks flew as she wondered which of the vermin she laid low had been Adiar. Hearing their intentions for Nessa made her want to kill them all over again.
“Does the MacNairn know I killed his son?” Her voice rumbled low, guttural.
Duncan frowned. “’Tis a good question. I am not sure how he could, since none of their raiding party survived. Da sent a clear message about the consequences of stealing his daughter by killing them all and leaving their bodies unburied on the field for the beasts and carrion crows to devour.”
Anna glanced up enough to offer a grunt in response then went back to work on the billet. With each curl of wood dropping to the ground, her anger receded. She mulled over Duncan’s story and how she now fit into their clan’s history whether she wished it or not.
With a questioning quality to his next words, Duncan continued. “I worried how a woman might deal with having so much blood on her hands. I see by the way ye attack the wood, ye would do so again. Ye are Nessa’s champion in truth.”
Anna didn’t look away from her task or acknowledge his statement.
“If ye will excuse me I have other duties to attend to. I will see ye at supper.” Duncan bowed slightly then left.
She raised her head, offering a slight scowl in answer. How like a man to think a woman could only wield a needle and thread or soup pot effectively, growing faint at the sight of blood.
Continuing her task, Anna reflected on the morning. She’d noticed the odd looks from the villagers, but nothing suggesting hostility. More like curiosity. Whether due to the laird’s declaration or her escort, she wasn’t certain. However, she knew everyone, especially the ladies who spun the wool, assessed Duncan’s interest in her. Like a filly on the block, she’d been rated all day. She frowned, not liking the sensation one bit.
She worked until she had a smooth, even staff of proper diameter. By the time she finished, darkness had crept past the lanterns into the stables. Having a task for her hands gave her mind the opportunity to take measure of her feelings and she was surprised to discover her anger toward the MacGregors no longer existed.
How did that happen?
Mairi and Nessa had always treated her more than kind. Duncan, if she were to be fair, had also been as kind as allowed, even more so this we
ek. The laird? Though she vehemently disagreed with his handling of her the first week, he’d held true to his word about welcoming her into his family, accepting her as his own.
Could I truly make a home here? Taking her new staff with her, she thought about putting it through its paces first thing on the morrow. The time alone would give her more opportunity to reflect on staying here, about working as a healer and horse trainer. Anna shook her head. She certainly needed more time to think on her strange feelings toward Duncan.
Chapter 10
Duncan arrived at the stables at first light and noticed Anna’s horse missing. Saddling up, he made his way to the strath, knowing she’d arrived, or would soon. Dismounting in the woods, Duncan tied his horse to a tree several yards away and quietly made his way to the edge of the clearing. As he suspected, she’d already reached their site. He chose a tree in the shadows to watch from a distance.
She unwrapped a long, thin rope from her waist. A small knife, or perhaps a spear point, appeared to be attached to the rope. What looked like a small red piece of cloth was tied to the base of the knife. Odd.
She started slowly, then swung the blade faster and faster. She twirled with it, wound the rope around her arms, back, legs; then, uncoiling the wraps, launched it toward a tree some fifteen feet away. He was taken aback by how deeply the blade pierced the wood. It didn’t take much imagination to envision what this weapon would do to a man, even armored.
Jerking the blade from the tree, she whipped it around again in one deft motion, twirling and dancing, shooting it out again. The red cloth made a whirring sound as it cut through the air, marking the point. Without the red to hold his eye, he’d have had a hard time tracking it. Sometimes she kicked it, firing it into the air, as to a lower target, changing the trajectory. She seemed to be able to let fly this weapon, high or low, in front or behind her at will and with accuracy. Duncan sat in wonder. He’d never witnessed the like before.