Highland Legend
Page 7
She could hardly believe it.
But her path to the Ludus Caledonia had not been without difficulty.
After the apothecary brothers had directed her to the church in Morningside, it had taken her several hours to walk there on a road that was well traveled. She wasn’t convinced that Lady Ayr’s soldiers weren’t somehow tracking her, so she hid from every sound, every traveler.
The priests at St. Eustace knew of the fight guild but, surprisingly, had no hesitation in telling her how to find it. She was instructed to continue to follow the road south until she found a pile of rocks with a rusted shackle embedded in it. The road to the Ludus Caledonia would be in the range of rocky hills south of that marker. Diantha had faithfully followed their advice. She’d made her way up into the hillside and found a road in the trees.
But that was where the problems started.
Just as she was making her way up the road, men in cloaks bearing nasty crossbows surrounded her. Even when she explained her purpose, they tried to chase her away, but she insisted that she had come to see Magnus Stewart. That name seemed to have an impact, for she was escorted to a castle on the top of a hill where she spent several hours being interrogated by the mercenaries who protected the Ludus Caledonia.
After hours of frustration, someone finally sent for Magnus. Diantha would never forget the moment their eyes met. He looked shocked, but there was also something else there. Something curious…interested, even.
Somewhere inside of him, a spark burned deep.
She could see it.
After a brief conversation, Magnus had taken her back to his cottage in a rather large village at the base of the fortress where there were dozens of cottages constructed in neat rows. He’d given her some blankets and told her to go sleep on the floor.
And that was where she found herself now.
The cottage had two rooms and she was in the larger of the two, a chamber with chairs, a table, a few chests, and other personal possessions. There was a second, smaller room that Magnus had disappeared into the night before, and she noted that the door was open. Rising to her feet, she timidly made her way over to the open panel.
“My lord?” she called softly. “My lord, are you awake?”
Receiving no answer, she stuck her head into the open doorway to see that the only thing in the chamber was, in fact, a very messy bed. Linens were strewn about and pillows were on the floor. Clothing was also tossed all over the chamber as if a tempest wind had blown through.
Since she had told Magnus that she would keep house for him, she thought she might as well start. The entire place was a mess, so she went right to work.
She very much wanted to earn her keep.
The first order of business was the laundry. Clothing was all over the place, so Diantha collected everything she could find, including the bed linens, and put them into a big pile next to the door. Once she had it neatly organized, she realized that she had no idea where to wash anything. A further inspection of the cottage failed to turn up a broom or anything to clean with, not even a tub. Once the laundry was wrangled, she was stuck.
But she wasn’t stopped.
Timidly, she opened the door to the cottage, revealing a bright morning and the warriors’ village. Magnus’s cottage was on the fringe, on an elevated position, looking down into the collection of rock cottages. Taking a few steps out of the cottage, she was awed by what she was seeing—the vast complex of cottages and stone outbuildings, plus the castle on the rise.
The property itself was nestled on the top of the hill range with a view to the south that went on for miles. The castle, with its circular curtain wall and enormous gatehouse, was at the crest of the hill with the village spread out below it. She could also see a large structure off to the east, or at least part of it. It was built into the hillside, but she couldn’t quite see what it was. As she held her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, she heard a female voice.
“We were wondering when ye would come out. Good morn tae ye.”
Diantha turned to see two women in front of a neighboring cottage. One woman was tall and lovely, with red curls, while a second woman with beautiful brown hair was seated. Both women had infants in their arms as a tow-haired toddler played in the dirt at their feet.
Diantha smiled timidly.
“Saludos,” she said. “Greetings.”
Both women smiled in return, but the redhead spoke.
“My name is Isabail,” she said. She indicated her companion. “This is Lucia. Magnus told us tae watch for ye and help ye find yer way.”
Diantha made her way over to them. “I am Diantha de Mora,” she said. “Where is Magnus?”
“At the Fields of Mars,” Lucia said, rocking the sleeping infant. “That is the big arena over there, cut into the hill. Ye can only see the top of it from here, but it goes all the way down to the bottom of a glen.”
Diantha looked over at the structure in the distance. “I see,” she said. “I thought it looked strange. I could not tell what it was.”
“That is where the men spend most of their time,” Isabail said. “On fight nights, the entire arena is lit up with a thousand torches. Ye’ve never seen anything so bright.”
Diantha’s gaze lingered on the distant arena a moment longer before turning to Isabail and Lucia. At closer range, they were both quite lovely and seemed friendly enough. But she sensed unspoken questions for all their politeness simply from the way they were looking at her, so it was better to get everything out in the open.
“Did Magnus tell you why I am here?” she asked. “If he did not, I am happy to tell you.”
Isabail shook her head. “He dinna tell us anything,” she said. “He simply asked if we’d keep watch for ye and help ye along if ye needed it.”
Diantha nodded in understanding, but she realized that speaking about her situation wasn’t easy. It was complicated. Moreover, she’d never been one to speak of herself much, mostly because she’d never had any real friends at Culroy. The women there had been disparaging and shunned her because she wasn’t Scottish, so opening up was difficult.
A new life, she reminded herself.
Perhaps with these women of the Ludus Caledonia, things would be different.
“’Tis all quite innocent, I assure ye,” she said. “Magnus is simply…helping me.”
Isabail began to sway back and forth as the infant in her arms grew fussy. “Magnus helping someone other than himself?” she said, grinning. “I dinna know he was capable of such a thing.”
Diantha wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she simply continued. “Like Magnus was in the past, I am a ward of the Duke of Ayr,” she began, but then she stopped herself. “Nay, that is not entirely true. I am a hostage and Magnus was, too. But Magnus escaped his predicament, and when I saw him in Edinburgh yesterday, I knew he could help me escape and return home, so I sought him out. That is why I am here—because I need his help. I must earn money for passage back to Navarre.”
She held her breath, waiting for a reaction, but there was no judgment from the women gazing back at her. At least, not outwardly. They only seemed politely curious.
“I thought ye sounded different,” Isabail said. “Ye dunna speak like a Scot. Ye’re from Navarre?”
Diantha nodded. “I am from Navarre,” she said. “Do you know of it?”
Isabail grinned, shaking her head. “I wish I did,” she said. “Ye said ye were a hostage of the Duke of…of…?”
“Ayr.”
“Aye, Ayr. Why were ye a hostage?”
Diantha debated how much to tell her. Not knowing the woman, she didn’t want to tell her everything. She’d learned over the years to be cautious with the truth.
“Political reasons,” she said. “Suffice it to say that the duke betrayed my father, and my only chance to return home is to escape. That is why I am here.
I have asked Magnus to help me.”
“What kind of help do ye need?”
Diantha was honest. “Money,” she said. “As I said, I must earn it to pay for my passage. I can sew and I can read and write. I told Magnus that I could help anyone who wanted to learn to read or write. I can do it in four languages.”
That drew a reaction. Isabail’s eyebrows lifted. “Impressive,” she said. “So ye want tae teach?”
Diantha nodded. “If I can,” she said. “Magnus can help me find men to teach, but I can also tend house. In fact, I was just tidying up Magnus’s cottage and I’ve collected his dirty clothing. Men need someone to do things like that, things a wife would do. I could do that for a price.”
“Things a wife can do?” Isabail repeated hesitantly. “Eh…what more would ye do?”
Diantha was oblivious to what Isabail was thinking. Lucia, too. They were both looking at Diantha strangely.
Things a wife would do…
“As I said, I can sew,” Diantha said. “I can also cook, just a little. I worked in the kitchens sometimes at Culroy Castle and I learned a great deal. I can ensure there is firewood and a fire in the hearth, and the floors are swept. Everything a wife can do.”
Isabail’s brow furrowed further. “Everything?”
It was in that moment that Diantha realized what had Isabail’s focus. Everything a wife can do. Diantha suddenly realized how it sounded.
Her cheeks flushed a bright red.
“Almost everything,” she said quickly. “Everything but…that. I’ll tend a man’s house, but I’ll not tend his bed.”
Both Isabail and Lucia appeared visibly relieved. “Not tae disparage ye, lass, but it sounded as if ye meant more than tending his house. Ye said ye needed money, so…” Isabail said, her voice trailing off.
She couldn’t finish the statement, inferring the obvious, and Diantha shook her head emphatically. Deeply embarrassed, she lowered her head.
“I am not that kind of a woman, I assure you,” she said. “I simply wish to earn money so I can return home. Home, away from women who think I would…”
She couldn’t even finish. She was too ashamed. Turning away quickly, she headed toward Magnus’s cottage, verging on tears. But a soft hand on her arm stopped her.
“Nay, lass,” Isabail said softly. “Dunna go. I’m sorry if we hurt yer feelings. But what ye said sounded as if… Well, I’ll not repeat it. And given that Magnus has more female companionship than he needs, it was easy tae think…but it was wrong of us. Forgive us.”
Diantha didn’t try to pull away. In truth, she was surprised at the apology. “I am the one who made the mistake,” she said, sniffling. “I can see how I sounded as if I were willing to do anything at all, but that’s not the truth. I’ve never even been kissed, to be completely honest. I only came to Magnus because I thought he could help me. I do not even really know the man.”
Isabail was pulling her back over to where Lucia was now standing up with an infant in her arms who was starting to wake up. The towheaded toddler in the dirt was also on his feet, running to Isabail and grabbing hold of her skirts as she walked.
“Any friend of Magnus’s is a friend of ours,” Isabail assured her. At her feet, the toddler was whining, and she grasped the boy’s hand. “Ye may as well meet everyone. This is my son, Nikolaus, but we call him Nikki. The babes belong to Lucia.”
Diantha could see that Isabail was trying to make her feel welcome. She also noticed when the woman shifted the baby in her arms that she was pregnant. She smiled weakly.
“It looks as if you have another babe on the way, too,” she said. “Your husband fights for the Ludus Caledonia also?”
When Nikki yanked his hand away and ran back for his toys in the dirt, Isabail put a hand on her gently swollen midsection. “He is a doctores,” she said. When Diantha looked at her curiously, she explained. “That means he trains men. Did ye not know that?”
Diantha shook her head. “I do not know anything about this place,” she said. “Until yesterday, I’d never heard of it.”
“Ah,” Isabail said, leading her over to a stool that was next to Lucia. “Sit down, then. Let us tell ye about this place.”
Diantha gladly did as she was told, eager to hear about this vast complex that was tucked away in the hills.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
Isabail began to sway back and forth, soothing the irritable baby. “Three years,” she said. “Welcome tae the Ludus Caledonia, Diantha de Mora. Think of it as a crown. The castle, called Caelian Hill, is the jewel at the top of the crown. Everything surrounding it is the rest of the crown—the smaller jewels, the gold. It is owned and operated by Sir Clegg de Lave, who was a great Sassenach knight once. King James granted him the property in payment for his services. The Ludus Caledonia is the term for everything ye see.”
From her perch on the stool, Diantha was looking around. “It looks very big.”
“It is,” Lucia said, next to her. “The arena is called the Fields of Mars, and that’s where all of the fighting and training take place. It’s the heart of the Cal.”
Diantha looked at her. “The Cal?”
Lucia snorted softly. “’Tis what everyone calls it,” she said. “If ye hear anyone speaking of the Cal, now ye know. Sir Clegg modeled it after the gladiator schools of ancient Rome, where men would train tae fight tae the death for their ancient kings.”
Diantha nodded, but she was still looking around. “There are so many cottages,” she said. “Are there so many warriors?”
Lucia shrugged. “Sometimes,” she said. “But all of the cottages aren’t occupied. Most of them, though. Men in training must have a good roof over their heads and a good bed tae sleep in. That is what Clegg says.”
Diantha looked at her. “I was told that men fight here and still other men place wagers on them,” she said. “This is all for entertainment?”
Lucia shook her head. “Not all,” she said. “Men are trained tae fight and they are taught by the best, men like our husbands. They swear fealty tae Clegg for seven years, and they are housed and fed and trained. They become highly skilled warriors and sometimes great lords pay a good deal of money for their services. That is the greatest honor of all—being bought by a great lord. I’ve seen dukes and princes and earls here, paying well for a fine warrior. When a man’s service is bought, he is given a gladius, a sword, with a red sash tied around it as a symbol of release from the Cal. That is always exciting tae see.”
It was a lot of information to absorb, but Diantha was sharp. She understood quickly what they were telling her.
“You said that your husband is a trainer?” she asked, looking at Isabail. “But Magnus told me he is a fighter. Does that mean he is still in training?”
The conversation shifted back to Isabail. “Nay,” she said. “Magnus is a professional fighter, the very top the Cal has tae offer. He fights for purses.”
“Not for his freedom?”
Isabail shrugged. “Many a lord has made an offer for him, but he always declines,” she said. “He likes the opportunity tae make money, I suppose, but I also think that he doesna like taking orders. Here at the Cal, he doesna have tae. Here, he is the king.”
Diantha shook her head, both surprised and impressed by what she was hearing. “It is a big change from when he was held hostage by the Duke of Ayr,” she said. “I did not know him at all, really, but I knew of him. He spent his time alone because the other lads did not like him. He always seemed so…lonely.”
Isabail was still swaying back and forth, now with a sleeping baby on her shoulder. “We’ve known Magnus for a while and dinna know he was a hostage of Ayr,” she said. “He never speaks about himself.”
Diantha realized that she might have divulged information that Magnus didn’t want known. “Then do not tell him I told you,” she sa
id. “He should tell you himself.”
“Dunna worry, lass,” Isabail assured her. “The secret is safe. Now, ye said ye wanted tae earn money for yer passage back tae Navarre.”
“Aye, very much. I do not want to be a burden on Magnus any longer than I must.”
Isabail cocked her head thoughtfully. “I think there are a few men around here who might like tae learn how tae read and write,” she said. “I will ask my husband tonight. Meanwhile, ye asked about washing Magnus’s clothing. We’ll put the bairns down tae sleep and show ye the way. Ye might want tae change intae something not so fanciful tae wash with.”
A tip of her head in Diantha’s direction had the woman looking down at her clothing. It was the green silk with the yellow trim, such a beautiful dress that was now dirty and wrinkled.
“I do not have anything else,” she admitted. “I came to the Ludus Caledonia with only the clothing I was wearing.”
Lucia was out of her chair now, looking over the pale-green dress. “No comb or soap?” she asked. “Do ye have a cloak or blanket at least?”
Diantha shook her head. “Nothing.”
Lucia shrugged. “We can find ye clothing to wear,” she said. “And a few other things.”
That worried Diantha. “It is not necessary for you to go to the trouble, truly,” she said. “I cannot pay for such things now, but I will be happy to buy them when I have a few coins.”
Lucia paused, a smile on her lovely face. “Ye dunna have tae pay for anything,” she said quietly. “Ye need clothing tae work in, lass. That silk dress willna hold together much longer if ye wear it constantly.”
Diantha struggled not to argue. “You are most generous, but I do not wish to start my life here at the Ludus Caledonia by accepting charity,” she said. “I told you that I intend to work. When I can pay for it, I shall be happy to buy what I need.”
Lucia laughed softly. “Ye dunna understand, Diantha,” she said. “’Tis not charity. Call it…a loan. When ye gather enough things of yer own, ye can give it back tae me.”