Diantha wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to offend the women, but taking charity, or a loan, was all the same to her.
She wasn’t accustomed to such kindness.
They were all herding toward the cottage, with Isabail taking hold of her toddler son and dragging the whining child along. As the babies were put to bed by doting mothers, Diantha remained outside of the cottage, trying to figure out what, exactly, she was feeling.
Much had happened in a short time.
Isabail and Lucia seemed to be kind and understanding, and Diantha appreciated that. They had been thoughtful enough to explain the world of the Ludus Caledonia to her and patient enough to work through the misunderstandings of her awkward social behavior. Given that Diantha hadn’t had any friends at Culroy Castle, her interaction with other women had been limited out of sheer self-protection.
But she didn’t feel like that with Isabail and Lucia.
Were there really women like that in the world, thoughtful and genuine?
Out of the world of Culroy Castle, perhaps such things were possible.
Chapter Seven
What was I thinking?
As Magnus went through drills with several top-tiered warriors on the arena floor, his mind wasn’t on his task.
It was on Diantha.
Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. A chance meeting yesterday had created something that was greatly impacting his life, and now he was questioning his decision to help her. He tried to tell himself that it was to seek some measure of satisfaction against Ambrose and Conan, but that wasn’t all of it.
That beautiful, serene face had done something to him.
He was a man who saw beautiful women on a regular basis, so he had no idea why Diantha affected him so. All he knew was that her lovely face kept coming back to him, flashing in his mind’s eye, causing his concentration to fracture. He was out here, beneath the August sun, swinging a sword at opponents who were looking for any chance to clip the Eagle’s wings.
He needed to pay more attention.
But he couldn’t seem to do it.
What was it about Diantha that was so memorable? She was the daughter of a Spanish count, with a lineage probably a mile long. That made her special. Magnus understood Ambrose’s reasons for wanting to keep her. Perhaps her blood made her special, but her beauty was what had branded him.
Last night when she had come to the Ludus Caledonia, he realized that he could not have sent her away. It had been dark by the time he was notified of her arrival, and sending the woman back out into the night simply wasn’t safe.
But it was more than that.
He remembered crashing into her at the apothecary’s shop and how entranced he had been with her from the very start. But she had refused to tell him her name and he very well remembered his outrage at that. Perhaps her refusal had also intrigued him. He had grown complacent with women throwing themselves at his feet, so a challenge was refreshing.
Wasn’t it?
Now, that intriguing, frustrating creature had taken up residence in his cottage. When he had departed that morning before dawn, he had passed her on the floor of his common room, curled up on the blankets he had practically thrown at her the night before. She was a little thing, petite and curvy, and there was something about her that brought out his male instincts.
He had told her that they would speak further on her predicament this morning, and he found himself both wanting to speak to her and not wanting to speak to her. When the woman looked at him a certain way, he could feel himself willing to do anything for her.
Last night, he had.
Whack!
Something hit him from behind, nearly knocking him to his knees, and he turned to see one of the other fighters standing behind him, shield in one hand and a gladius, or wooden practice sword, in the other.
He found himself looking at Tay.
“What is wrong with ye, Eagle?” Tay demanded. “Ye’re in another world.”
Magnus turned to him, rubbing the spot on his back where Tay had smacked him. “I’m in this world long enough tae send ye tae yer knees,” he said, shaking a finger at Tay. “Dunna test me. Ye willna like the results.”
Tay grinned big, showing white teeth against his tanned skin. “Probably not,” he said. “But something has ye distracted. What is it, sweetheart? Is yer womb troubling ye again?”
Everyone in earshot burst out laughing, including Magnus. “Tay, my friend,” he said, “I think I’ve kicked ye in the head one too many times. Ye’ve clearly lost yer mind.”
Tay closed the gap between them as the group began to disband so they could move on to something else. While the others were walking away, Tay and Magnus remained.
“What is it?” Tay asked more seriously. “I’ve not seen ye like this before. There has never been a time when I could come up behind ye and smack ye on the backside without ye trying tae throttle me first.”
Magnus wasn’t sure he could tell him. It wasn’t like him to let his guard down to anyone. Everyone saw what Magnus wanted them to see, which was a man who was always and forever in control.
He had no weaknesses.
But then again, he’d never really had to deal with a woman on his mind.
He didn’t feel as if he could tell Tay that, however. It was true that he and Tay were old friends, for he had known the man even longer than he’d known Lor and Bane and Galan. They had never been terribly close, but all things considered, closer than most of the professional warriors were. Magnus knew that Tay would always have his back and that he would always have Tay’s.
But it was greatly humiliating to have to confess the reasons for his distraction.
Therefore, he didn’t try.
“’Tis nothing,” he finally said. “I dinna sleep well last night. I’m thinking of returning tae my cottage and trying tae sleep before tonight’s event.”
Great bleeding Christ, now I’m making excuses to go home and see her!
As Magnus realized the true reason for wanting to return to his cottage, Tay put a big hand on his shoulder.
“Go,” he said. “I hear the Bear will be fighting again. If he is, he’ll want revenge on ye.”
Magnus smiled weakly but before he could speak, he caught sight of something over near the mouth of the arena. Men were emerging from the holding area. The smile faded from his face.
“It looks as if he’s already here.”
Tay turned to see the enormous warrior known as the Bear making his way out onto the arena floor. The man was with his manager and two other men to train against, but Magnus knew immediately that the Bear was there to send Magnus a message. As he stood there and watched, he heard a voice behind him.
“He’s come tae intimidate ye,” Lor said, looking over Magnus’s shoulder to the Bear in the distance. “Axel tried tae convince him tae leave this morning, but he wouldna. Seems he has a score tae settle with ye and he made it clear that he means tae destroy ye.”
Magnus’s smile was back, a confident gesture that told everyone around him that he wasn’t worried in the least.
“I’ve beaten him before,” he said. “I shall do it again.”
They all watched as the Bear took one of his training partners out by the knees, throwing the man so violently to the ground that he broke his arm when he fell. It was a testament to the anger in the Bear, an anger that heightened his sense of revenge. He knew the Eagle was watching.
He wanted to show the man what was in store for him.
“Be cautious tonight,” Lor muttered. “He knows yer tricks. He’ll be expecting a kick tae the head. Mind that he doesna break yer leg.”
Magnus looked at the man. Almost more than any of the others, Lor had a sense of concern and compassion for his friends. He didn’t come from a warring background, which meant that the inherent cruelty th
at men could so often commit against each other in battle wasn’t ingrained in him. He was genuinely concerned for Magnus.
But Magnus couldn’t let Lor know that he was a wee bit concerned, too.
He patted Lor on the cheek.
“Ye worry like an old woman,” he said. “But I wouldna have it any other way.”
As Lor smirked and shook his head at his cocky friend, Magnus handed his gladius off to one of the servants who tended the field and the armory. They were everywhere on the arena floor, making sure the men were properly armed and that everything was in good condition.
Without another word, and without a hind glance to the Bear, who was trying very hard to impress upon Magnus the beating he was in for that evening, Magnus headed out of the arena. He wasn’t thinking about the Bear.
There was a certain Spanish lass he intended to see.
***
It had been a busy morning.
It had all started after the infants had been put to bed. Diantha had returned to Magnus’s cottage to collect his laundry, and by the time she had emerged with it, Isabail and Lucia were heading in her direction, their arms heavy with garments. Isabail was even carrying a big basket loaded with more items like hose and slippers and combs.
Diantha was pushed back into the cottage by her well-meaning new friends. She set Magnus’s laundry aside as Isabail and Lucia went to work on her. They had brought her so many things that it was difficult to know where to start, but they began by pulling out a clean and serviceable broadcloth dress.
Lady Ayr’s fine green silk came off.
The broadcloth was a little worn, but still very nice. It belonged to Lucia, who was about the same size as Diantha. They had also brought soap and linens with them, and they helped Diantha wash before pulling a shift over her head. The broadcloth dress followed. The sleeves were long, and the bodice was made snug with a tie in the back. Isabail tied so tightly that Diantha joked she must have been used to saddling horses.
In truth, Diantha was touched that they should go through so much trouble. She had never been around women who were so willing to help. All of the women she had known since coming to Scotland had been self-absorbed and not particularly compassionate to a young woman who did not fit in. Therefore, to meet two young women who were so willing to be kind to her was surprising.
But it was also wonderful.
Finding them, in all places, at a fight guild.
When Diantha was finally dressed, Lucia stayed with the children while Isabail gave her a tour of the complex. Among the many hidden attributes of the place, Diantha discovered that there was a community garden where women tended vegetables to serve to their men. Both Isabail and Lucia had their own little plots, and Isabail explained that not long ago, women weren’t even allowed at the Ludus Caledonia.
But times had changed. Entire families were at the Ludus Caledonia, and it was as self-sufficient as any city. Some women liked to grow their own food even though two massive kitchens provided meals twice a day, and a butcher provided cuts of meat from the herds of cow and sheep that belonged to the Ludus Caledonia.
In addition to the butcher and garden, there was a washhouse where the laundry was done, a big stone structure built around a well and a trough, and there were already a dozen women inside tending to their washing. There was much gossip and laughter, and Isabail introduced Diantha to the women. She braced herself for more cattiness but was surprised, yet again, by their polite and genuine interest in a morning that had been full of such surprises.
In fact, it had been a day of unexpected pleasantness.
The tour took about an hour, and when it was all done, Diantha could see that the Ludus Caledonia was a city unto itself, completely self-sustaining. The only difference with this city was that the source of revenue came from the fighting games, which took place four nights a week. The nights were not consecutive, most of the time, so the warriors would have a rest in between their bouts, and not all warriors fought every night.
She also learned that the warrior classes were tiered. They ranged from novices all the way up to the professional fighters, like Magnus. Since Magnus was such a popular fighter, he had his choice of the nights he wanted to fight. Diantha was told that he generally fought at least three nights a week, depending on how big the purses were. There was speculation that Magnus was the wealthiest fighter at the Ludus Caledonia because since he had arrived, he had never lost a fight.
It had been a very enlightening morning.
Once they returned home, Isabail set up the wash area in the trees behind the cottages. As it turned out, neither she nor Lucia used the common washhouse, and Diantha washed every bit of clothing she had found in Magnus’s cottage with perfectionist zeal. It had taken her most of the morning to do six tunics, three pairs of linen breeches, and the linens off his bed.
It was hard physical labor, but Diantha didn’t mind. She enjoyed doing something useful, so different from her days of idleness at Culroy. When she was finally finished washing all of Magnus’s items, she hung them on the branches of trees. She was just hanging the last of the bed linens when she caught sight of Magnus.
Her heart skipped a beat.
He was naked from the waist up as he approached, his broad chest a beautiful shade of bronze. After all she’d heard that morning about him, she was coming to realize that he was a very important person. At the Ludus Caledonia, he’d earned himself quite a reputation and there was a part of her that thought perhaps she was unworthy of such a man. It had been presumptuous of her to have asked for his help.
She was suddenly nervous.
In her haste to greet Magnus, Diantha accidentally yanked down one of the big bed linens that she had so carefully washed. As it came down over her head, her foot caught in it and down she went into the dirt.
Hands were reaching down to untangle her.
“Are ye in there?” Magnus asked.
Horribly embarrassed, Diantha growled in frustration as she yanked the damp linen off her head. Hair askew, she looked up at him and Isabail to see that they were both smiling down at her. Magnus started to laugh.
“Ye look as if ye fought the linen and the linen won,” he said.
Diantha made a face, but Magnus’s laughter made her feel not quite so embarrassed. “I was going to surprise you with clean bed linens and clean clothing,” she said, looking at the dirty linen with disappointment. “It looks as if I must wash this again.”
Magnus reached down and pulled her to her feet. “What compelled ye tae do such a thing?” he said. “I dinna tell ye tae.”
Before Diantha could reply, Isabail spoke. “Magnus, they needed a wash,” she said frankly. “They were dirty and smelly.”
He lifted his chin. “They smelled like me.”
“As I said—smelly.”
Magnus curled his lip at her. “I’ll tell yer husband ye insulted me. He’ll take a hand tae ye, ye insolent woman.”
Isabail burst out laughing. “Ye think so, do ye? He’ll tell ye that ye stink, too,” she said, turning away. “Ye think ye’re the only man in Scotland without a stench.”
“I am.”
Isabail continued to laugh and walk away as Diantha stood there, trying very hard not to smile. When Magnus looked at her, incensed, she bit her lip.
“And ye?” he said. “I suppose ye think I stink, too. Ye’ve been listening tae that bold wench Isabail.”
Diantha shook her head quickly. “I do not think that,” she said. “I washed the linens because it seemed like a good way to thank you for taking me in last night and giving me a place to sleep. I washed your tunics and breeches, too.”
Magnus looked at the tree strewn with his drying clothing. The offended expression on his face faded as he looked at everything she’d done for him. Realizing that she’d gone to a great deal of trouble, his focus returned to her face.
&
nbsp; “Ye dinna have tae do all of this,” he said, quieter now. “I dunna recall giving ye permission.”
Diantha’s brow furrowed. “I told you last night that I would tend your cottage,” she said. “I do not expect to have shelter given to me without working for it.”
“I never told ye I expected this.”
She was growing increasingly confused. “You did not, but I hope you do not think I would accept your help and not do something for you in return.”
He looked around again at all of her efforts and finally motioned to her.
“Come with me,” he said.
Diantha followed him back into his cottage. Entering the larger chamber, he nearly tripped over a big copper tub, dented and used, as well as a broom, a bucket, and other items meant for cleaning. Diantha came in behind him, and as soon as she shut the door, he turned to her.
“I’m going tae give ye the money for passage tae Navarre,” he said quietly. “If ye want tae go home, I’ll send ye home. I know ye’re worried that ye canna pay me in return, but I dunna want ye tae worry so. The money will be my gift tae ye.”
Diantha looked at him, wide-eyed. “I cannot take money I have not earned. I told you that last night.”
“It is a gift. Ye canna refuse a gift.”
“I can and I will.”
“Take it and go.”
The way he said it made it sound like he wanted her out, so she didn’t argue. In fact, she felt ashamed and wounded. There was a chair behind her and she sank into it, slowly.
“Did I do wrong by washing your clothing?” she asked. “My lord, I could not accept your shelter and your help without paying you in return or at least working for my keep, and I will not take your money without earning it. I am sorry if you cannot accept that, but that is the way of things. I will not take anything that does not belong to me.”
Magnus looked at her—hard. He wasn’t quite sure why she made him nervous, or why he was offering to pay for her way to Navarre when the truth was that he very much liked her presence here. The woman was trying to be honorable by working for her keep and, God knew, he respected that. He admired a woman of honor.
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