Highland Seasons, page 2
She was trained to bring her kill to Mariota, a necessity if she was to be part of the clan’s hunts. If the MacKay ever allowed it. Mariota watched her take wing and held up her gloved hand, a signal for the bird to return to her. As Valkyrie neared, she dropped a rabbit in front of her mistress, landed on Mariota's fist, flapped her wings to settle her balance, and stilled.
“Good lass!” Mariota told her. “A coney for the pot. Cook will be pleased with ye, even if Da is no’.” She replaced the jesses, retrieved the rabbit, and made her way around the glen to the keep’s gate.
“Got one, did she?” The guard, her friend Seamus, called down to her.
Mariota couldn’t wave, but she held up Valkyrie’s kill. “Aye. She always does. They’re thick in the glen. I’m headed for the mews, then the kitchen. Can I bring ye anything? Or are ye coming down?”
“Go on about yer business, Mari. I’ll visit the kitchen myself soon enough.” He gave her a grin and a wave.
Mariota nodded and after returning Valkyrie to her perch in the mews, entered the kitchen with her prize.
“Been out, have ye?” The cook took the coney and laid it aside. “I shouldha kenned ye would now the weather’s cleared. What will yer da say?”
“Nay a word. I stayed in Seamus’s view the entire time.”
“As if that lad would tell yer da any different. He fancies ye.”
“Dinna ye start. Seamus is a friend and naught more.”
“He’d like to be. Poor lad. ’Twill never happen.”
Mariota’s shoulders slumped at the reminder, however oblique, of her duty to the clan to wed a stranger.
“Ach, me and my big mouth.” Cook crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Go get cleaned up, then come back. To apologize, I’ll make something special for ye.”
Mariota nodded and gave her a smile. “Seamus said he’d be in soon. Ye might make enough for two.”
“Aye, and I will.” Cook shooed her out.
Mariota headed for her chamber, eager to wash the rabbit’s blood from her hands and kirtle. In the great hall, she noticed Alber sprawled in a chair by the fire, tankard in hand, and grimaced. She looked away and mounted a few stairs, hoping he was far enough in his cups not to see her. But her luck was no better this time than it ever was. He noticed her.
“Have ye killed a MacCleod, then, Mari? From the look of ye, ye did a poor job of it.”
Alber’s taunt rankled. She pretended she didn’t hear him, but continued up the stairs without hesitation.
“Ach, nay, of course no’,” he continued, louder. “Yer da willna let ye hunt, so ye canna fight for MacKay, either, can ye? Ye and yer wee bow and arrows.”
His snicker was the last straw. Mariota stopped halfway up the stairs and peered down at him. Alber was a few years her senior, big and heavily muscled, he could have grown into a good-looking man if it wasn’t for the constant sneer on his face. A scar from the battle of Red Harlaw didn’t help. It ran from his nose to his jaw on the left side of his face, as if his opponent had tried to blind him and missed. Alber claimed to have killed so many that day, her da thought of him as one of his best fighters. His ruthlessness made him a hero for a few weeks, until people realized he enjoyed the praise, and his tales of his prowess in the battle grew beyond anything the surviving MacKays fighting there could confirm.
When they were younger, Alber had cornered her in the stables and tried to kiss her as he shoved his hand down her chemise. For his trouble, she’d kneed him as Cook had taught her. He’d dropped to the straw, swearing. “Too good for the likes of me, are ye?” He’d spat and curled up, threatening, “Ye’ll pay for this.”
“No’ as much as ye’ll pay if I tell Da what ye just did.”
Since that day, he hadn’t touched her so familiarly again, but never failed to bump into her or brush her shoulder as he passed by in a crowded room. He always had something disparaging to say if he caught her alone, but so far, she’d managed not to let him corner her. She shuddered to think what he’d do, given the chance. Bad enough what he probably said about her out of her hearing. She often regretted not reporting him to her father.
Today, after her brief taste of freedom with Valkyrie, she was in no mood to put up with Alber. “At least I brought food for the pot. What have ye done today, save sit on yer arse and drink? As ye are now, yer next opponent in battle will finish what the last started and cleave yer head from yer shoulders.”
He lurched to his feet with a roar.
Mariota sniffed and continued up the stairs. He’d never follow her. If she screamed, her father would exile him, unless he chose to run him through on the spot. She went the rest of the way considering which she would prefer. Alber’s curses followed her up the stairs.
Stellan pulled off his gloves as he entered the keep and made his way to the laird’s solar. The door was open, so he didn’t bother to knock. “I’m back,” he announced, and moved to the hearth to chase away his chill by the fire. Days were getting longer and warmer, but by sunset, the air still carried the bite of winter.
“Ye are late. Was there trouble?” Sutherland laid aside his quill and leaned back in his chair. Numbers and notations covered the pages of the open journal on the work table before him.
“Nay. I ken ye were told MacKays are hunting Sutherland territory. We saw naught of them, though there’s nay lack of places for them to hide.” With some of the rawness of riding knocked off, he settled in a chair across the table from his father. “What is that?”
“The planting schedule. Barring another hard freeze, we should be able to start working the fields soon, especially those closer to the firth.”
“We dinna need another lean year come harvest time. Or poachers.”
“Indeed. Our stores are depleted as it is, and this time of year, we have to go farther afield to find game.”
“We spotted a huge stag up north and tracked him for a few hours, but lost him in the woods. ’Tis why I’m late returning. I’ll take several men tomorrow and try again.”
“Have a care. The hinds will be fawning soon.”
“I ken ’tis the wrong time of year to take a female. We saw none.”
Anders entered then. “To ye, any time of year is the wrong time to take a female,” he quipped. “Oh, were ye speaking of lasses or deer?”
“In either case, we were no’ speaking to ye,” Stellan replied. Anders grinned, taking no insult. Ever since they’d returned to Sutherland after fostering away, Stellan had shown no interest in taking a wife. Not until he absolutely had to. His twin understood. As young lads, they’d sworn an oath not to do so unless the lass came home with them. It didn’t stop Anders from consorting with any lass who showed an interest. In the eyes of the clan, he wasn’t weighed down with being the laird’s heir, so like any other handsome lad, he felt free to take advantage where he could. Stellan had to be much more careful.
“So, ye saw nay sign of MacKays, either,” Anders went on, clearly aware of the reason for Stellan’s grim mood. “What are they up to?”
“According to the Gunn, naught,” Sutherland said.
“Do ye believe him?” Stellan didn’t.
“I believe only what I see or hear with my own senses,” Sutherland answered.
“Or the report of yer sons,” Anders prompted drily.
“Or a trusted ally, which Gunn is no’.”
“So, nothing has changed,” Stellan summarized, then stood. “I’m for some food and my bed.”
“I’ve eaten,” Anders told him, “but I’ll join ye for an ale.”
“Go on, ye two, and leave me to my work.” Sutherland waved them out.
“Let’s go riding.” Mariota hooked her arm through Seamus’s when she found him in the middle of the bailey the next day and turned him toward the stables. “I want to get out for a while and ’tis a fine morning.”
“Yer da does no’ want ye to leave the keep.”
“He does no’ want me to leave alone. I willna. Ye will be with me.”
Seamus didn’t look convinced, so Mariota stuck out her lower lip, doing her best to look pitiable and sad. When Seamus sucked in a breath, she knew she’d won.
“We’ll go,” he told her, “but we must return before dark.”
“Why do ye say that? We always do.”
“I’m on duty tonight.”
“Perfect. We willna need to hurry. If ye’ll beg Cook for some food so ye can eat before we return, I’ll fetch Valkyrie.”
He stood firm when she tried to turn them back toward the keep. “I dinna ken if this is such a good idea.”
He couldn’t back out now! She could taste freedom. And her favorite mount, Epona, needed to run. Mariota hadn’t been able to ride her in weeks, and the mare was used to more freedom. Chafing over her father’s restrictions, Mariota thought she’d found a champion in Seamus, and feared he was wavering. “I promise we’ll be back in time. With Valkyrie along, we can hunt and make the morning worthwhile. She might take another coney for the pot. Da canna complain about that.”
Mariota kept her expression neutral as Seamus considered. He feared her father’s wrath. Everyone did. But the gate guard would not let her ride out without an escort, and Seamus was the most amenable to her of the MacKay men.
Finally, he nodded. “Fetch her, and yer bow. I’ll meet ye in the stable.”
Elation filled her, but she kept it off her face. “Thank ye.” She headed for the mews to collect Valkyrie. She kept her bow there, too, so in minutes she was in the stable, instructing the lad working there to saddle Epona and Seamus’s favorite mount.
By the time the horses were ready, Seamus arrived with a packet of food and two skins. He held one up. “Wine.”
Mariota nodded. He knew her preference for watered wine over ale. They mounted up and Mariota settled Valkyrie on the bow-perch pommel the hawk master had carved for her. She led the way from the stable to the gate and called, “Open up.”
“Ye are no’ to go riding,” the guard answered.
“No’ alone, nay. But Seamus is with me.”
“Open up,” Seamus added. “We willna be gone long.”
Mariota held her breath. With Seamus by her side, she hadn’t expected resistance from the guard. “What did Da threaten all of ye with?” She kept her voice low enough only Seamus would hear her.
“Trust me, ye dinna wish to ken.”
“Ouch.”
“Pitch yer voice higher and ye’ll have the right idea.”
Mariota scowled at that. Surely her da wouldn’t do anything so barbaric. Her expression smoothed into a smile when the gate inched open. As soon as there was enough of a gap for the horses to slip through, she kicked Epona into motion. In moments, they were free.
They rode hard across the open field outside the gate, then slowed when they entered the woods. At the first clearing, Mariota stopped and loosed Valkyrie. “Hunt,” she told her. The raptor eyed her, then took to her wings and was soon lost to sight above the trees.
“She’ll call if she spots something,” Mariota reminded Seamus. “Until she does, let’s ride.”
They continued into the woods. In moments, Valkyrie’s piercing call sounded above them. “That way,” Seamus said, pointing.
In the next clearing, they found Valkyrie perched on her kill, a young fox. “Fox is nay good to eat, but the fur will be welcome,” Mariota commented as she dismounted.
Seamus pulled his dirk, skinned the carcass, and left it for Valkyrie to enjoy. The fur he rolled and tied behind his saddle. “She didn’t take long. Will she keep hunting?”
“Aye.” Mari took the water skin from Epona’s back as she watched Valkyrie tear strips of meat from the fox’s haunch. She looked away long enough to rinse Seamus’s hands and knife of blood. “She won’t take much from that kill.”
In moments, the bird launched skyward and they remounted.
Seamus picked up his reins. “Which way?’
“Toward the burn, I think,” Mariota said. “We can wash up, refill this, and water the horses there, even if Valkyrie doesn’t spot any prey.”
At the burn, Seamus checked his horse’s hooves. “Damn, I thought so. He’s thrown a shoe.”
“He’s lamed?” Mariota’s heart plummeted. So much for a long day away from the keep.
“Nay, but I canna ride him back to the keep without risking him. I’ll have to walk him back.”
At that moment, Valkyrie called. “She’s spotted something. I’ll go check,” Mariota said.
“Dinna go far,” Seamus warned. “Ye need to come with me. I canna leave ye here or yer da will have my cods, and I canna get to ye with any speed if trouble finds ye.”
“I’ll come back as quickly as I can.” Mariota rode away, leaving Seamus to deal with his mount. Relishing her freedom to be alone, she forgot her promise to stay close by. She kept going, following Valkyrie’s cries until she realized they were near the border with Sutherland, and called the bird down before they went too far.
Mariota knew she would be in trouble for coming this close to Sutherland. Seamus was well behind her, stuck waiting for her with a not-yet-lame, less one shoe horse. If he got worried and didn’t wait, he’d risk his mount, or be hours walking trying to find her. Though she relished the time to herself, away from everyone, out of the keep, and away from her father’s odious commands, it wasn't worth the punishment her father would mete out to Seamus if he found out—or if anything happened to her. This solitude, and feeling almost as free as Valkyrie on the wing, was an illusion.
She dismounted and walked across the clearing to where Valkyrie had landed with her kill, another bird. Mariota would let her feast on it before they headed home. She had earned the treat. But they needed to head back soon, or Seamus would indeed start searching for her, and he’d never go with her out of the keep again.
An arrow came out of nowhere and buried itself in the ground next to Valkyrie. The hawk dropped her kill and launched herself into the air.
Mariota spun, searching for cover and for where the shot had come from. Before she could move, Alber showed himself.
“Ye are a long way from home, lass,” he taunted her. “And alone. Yer lap dog, Seamus, is far from here. He can do naught to help ye, now can he? And I can do with ye what I will.” He stepped closer, lips pulled back in a malicious grin. “Go on, then, scream if ye wish. Ye willna be heard. Seamus is too far away.”
“I dinna need to scream,” she ventured, fighting the urge to run. Alber would be on her before she could take three steps. All she could do was hold her ground and keep his attention on her. Fear made her knees weak and her heart pound, but she had a secret weapon.
She whistled, calling Valkyrie down to attack, and tilted her head toward Alber.
He laughed and continued to advance on her.
Valkyrie’s attack was as swift as it was unexpected—at least for him. Before Mariota could decide to run after all, the hawk’s steep dive ended with her wings flared out around his head and her claws in his neck. Instinctively, he tried to protect his throat by grabbing at her claws. She pecked his face, tearing a chunk out of his cheek. Mariota whistled her away before he could harm her.
Valkyrie launched herself skyward.
At least her bird was safe. Mariota wasn’t. The look on Alber’s torn face promised a painful death if he managed to get his hands on her. She was about to call Valkyrie back down when she realized how much blood flowed from his face and neck. Instead of rushing Mariota, he stumbled to his horse and clung to its saddle, no longer able to taunt or threaten her.
Valkyrie had given her time to get to her horse, and she took advantage of Alber’s condition, mounted and rode for home, her hawk pacing her in the sky above her.
Before long, she found Seamus and told him what had happened. “He may be coming behind us,” she warned
Frowning, Seamus said, “I’ll ride double with ye. Without a rider on his back, my mount can run. We need to get back to the keep. Ye are nay safe out here.”
“Da will never let me out of MacKay's walls again.”
“If Alber catches ye, yer da will be the least of yer worries.” He mounted up behind her. “Now let’s go.”
They reached the keep safely, but Mariota knew that wasn’t the end of her peril. She still had to tell her father what happened.
“I told ye to stay inside the gates,” he raged, pacing his solar after he sent men to look for the injured Alber. “Ye disobeyed me yet again. Must I lock ye in yer chamber?”
“I did as ye asked, Da. I wasna alone until Seamus’s horse threw a shoe. And Valkyrie spotted prey, so I went after her. But Alber found me and threatened me. I had to call Valkyrie down to stop him from…hurting me. Maybe even killing me.” Probably. If he’d violated her, he couldn’t have let her live to tell the tale. But Mariota didn’t think her da was prepared to hear that from her.
His frown and the way his jaw clenched gave her hope he understood what she hadn’t said. Alber would not get out of this unpunished, either.
“If ye had stayed in the keep as ye ought, this wouldna have happened. Seamus will be punished for aiding ye.”
“Ye canna do that, Da. Blame me if ye must. I convinced Seamus to ride with me. But dinna blame me for what happened to Alber. He did no’ have to follow. Or to threaten me. He tried to kill Valkyrie first, but his arrow missed. He got nay more than he deserved.”
“And so shall ye. Get ye to yer chamber. I’ll deal with ye after the men return.”
Mariota realized she’d get nowhere arguing with her father. Meekly, she nodded and did as he ordered.
An hour later, he called her back. His men had found Alber unconscious, blood still seeping from the wounds on his neck and face.
“He does no’ deserve to die,” her father raged once he gave her the news. “Certainly no’ in this way! Killed by yer damn hawk? If the lads had no’ found him when they did, he would be dead, and MacKay would be without one of its best fighters. Ye, lass, are of an age to cause more such trouble. There are rough men here. More since Domnhall sent troops to fight Mar. I will see ye married. And soon.”
