“That’s why I’ve always been glad to be one of my father’s younger sons. I don’t have to worry about being any sort of leader,” Aiden said.
“Lucky dog,” Corin muttered, and Aiden grinned. He knew full well that Corin hated his newfound responsibility.
“Completely carefree, that’s me,” he said.
“Shut up,” Corin replied. “Nobody cares.”
Aiden only laughed.
Chapter 5
The next morning Aiden joined Corin, Trey, and Martin on the training grounds across the river from the castle. He became better acquainted with the others as Corin stopped to talk with different men on the training grounds.
Martin was highly skilled with a blade and had earned the title of Blademaster of Aredor even before the Calorin invasion. As such he was always curious about new weapons and questioned Aiden extensively on his double swords. Stopping in an open area, they unsheathed their swords, and Aiden showed him various maneuvers he had learned abroad. Within a short time a ring of spectators had gathered and a warrior challenged Aiden. He readily accepted, and a few moments later the warrior was defenseless with Aiden’s sword at his throat. Another challenge was thrown out and accepted. Two more men were defeated in short order.
“Anyone else care to try their luck?” Aiden asked.
“I think I might.” Corin stepped through the circle and unsheathed his scimitar.
“You might want to step back a bit, lads,” Aiden told the onlookers while giving his swords a twirl.
Corin fastidiously inspected his blade. “You ready?”
“When you are,” Aiden replied, and they slowly began to circle each other, searching for an opening.
They clashed with an abrupt lunge. Those who watched could barely keep track of the combatants’ swords. Corin managed to send one of Aiden’s blades falling to the ground. Undeterred, Aiden kept fighting. Then twisting his remaining sword, he brought it up against Corin’s side at the same moment Corin laid his scimitar against Aiden’s neck. Cheers broke out as they drew back from each other.
“Every time I think I have a chance, you beat me with that same move.” Corin returned the fallen sword to Aiden.
He grinned as he took it. “That’s how I beat Azrahil for the longest time.”
“I fully understand why he hated those swords!” Corin laughed.
As they prepared to leave, Martin caught at Corin’s arm.
“Corin, I have a pressing need to be at the other side of the grounds right now,” he said.
“What—” Corin began and then saw a young soldier striding purposefully towards them. “Denied. Martin, you can deal with this.”
“What does he want now? He’s only been here a day!” Trey moaned.
“Captain?” the soldier asked haughtily.
“What?” Corin growled.
“How long will I be forced to train and live in these conditions?”
Aiden saw Corin’s jaw clench and Trey’s hand close longingly over his dirk handle and decided to step in.
“May I?” he asked Corin in Calorin.
“Please!” Corin replied.
“Straighten up at attention when you address the Captain! You’ll be here as long as we bloody well please! Let me tell you, laddie, ‘conditions’ will only get worse! Be grateful I’m not in command because where I come from I’d force march you through the desert on short rations. Any more questions?” he barked.
“No, sir!” the soldier said stiffly.
“Good! You are dismissed! And clean that sword! It’s filthy! A disgrace to your warband!” Aiden said sharply.
After he was gone, Martin turned to Corin. “How much would it take for Aiden to stay? I just had a wonderful vision of someone else dealing with Andras.”
“A forced march through the desert?” Corin asked Aiden.
“It was the first thing that came to mind,” Aiden said. “That horrible blighter deserves worse though!”
“I liked the bit about his sword. That really stung him! You sure you won’t stay, Aiden?” Trey asked.
“Sorry, Trey, I have many talents, but putting up with people like him is not one of them,” Aiden said.
* * *
As it was, he only stayed a day longer and then, laden with fresh provisions, he resumed his journey north to Braeton. He was anxious to get home. Lord Rishdah’s words had remained in his mind since the day he left Calorin. He hated to bid farewell to Corin so soon, but he knew he was always welcome in Aredor.
He traveled quickly across the border and was soon looking over the fertile lands of Clan Gunlon. He spent one night in a small settlement among the Clan of the Unicorn. After that he only saw solitary Clan members tending their herds of horses. By midday of the fourth day, he was at the eaves of the forest that sheltered the peoples of Clan Canich. Another day’s ride through the forest would bring him to Scodra, house of the Wildcat Lords.
Aiden made camp beside a small stream as the sun began to set. Wrapping his cloak around him, he sat against a tree and stared at the dancing flames of his fire. As he had travelled he had heard more rumors of trouble in Clan Canich. He had realized in Aredor that he was tired of fighting. He wanted to rest. But it seemed there were more battles to be fought.
Rolling up his left sleeve he looked at the tattoos he had kept hidden for almost ten years. The wildcat tattoo took up most of his upper arm. The wildcat bared teeth and claws as it balanced on hind paws. The tattoo marked him as the Chieftain’s son. The Laird and his sons were the only men to have the Clan emblem marked on their left arm. Below it on his forearm was the four pointed star of the Clan. A C was inscribed in the middle to mark his bond with Clan Canich. Every member of the Clan bore the same tattoo.
When he was young, he had discovered that he could imitate almost anyone. As a result, he could perfect any accent he chose, or more importantly, disguise the thick brogue of the Clans. He had hidden his tattoos and his accent in an effort to forget where he had come from as he sought a new life away from the Clan. Even now, back in Rhyddan-speaking countries, he refrained from his full accent out of habit and the unsurety of a welcome upon his return.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea, he thought. He wasn’t expecting a warm welcome from his father after running away and now returning practically a stranger. So far he had no idea what he was going to say to his father. They had been constantly at odds with one another ever since Aiden could remember, due largely to their matching hotheaded personalities. The Laird’s heavy-handed tactics when it came to his obstinate and rebellious young son was, in part, what had prompted Aiden to run away when he was sixteen.
His oldest brother, Ranulf, was the only person to whom he had said good-bye when he left. Ranulf had caught Aiden in the stables as he prepared to leave. It was mainly for Ranulf’s sake that he promised to come back one day.
He was almost frightened now that he didn’t know what awaited him. The thought of his home and family being in trouble was worse than anything else he had been through. A restless night passed, and as sunlight first streamed through the branches of the trees, he turned onto a familiar path. In a few hours he would enter into the valley that sheltered Clan Canich.
As Aiden led Narak along the forest pathway, he brushed most of the dirt from his clothes and straightened his cloak and weapons. He had groomed Narak until his coat shone softly, and Aiden’s saddlebags hung from a well-polished saddle.
There was a rustling in the undergrowth, and a young hunting dog tumbled onto the path. It caught sight of Aiden and bounded toward him, its tail waving joyously. Aiden knelt and began stroking its ears. As if this weren’t enough, the hound fell onto its back. Aiden laughed and began scratching its belly as the dog’s tail beat against the ground. Footsteps announced the arrival of the dog’s master and Aiden stood to greet him.
“Sorry about that. I had him on the hunting run this morning and he goes off chasing squirrels. I can’nae figure it.” The young man shook his head. “Maon, come!�
�� he commanded.
The hound ran to the man’s side where he remained for a few seconds before bounding off down the path.
“He’s friendly enough. He came right up to me,” Aiden said.
“Och, I think he’d rather sit and chat with the deer than chase ’em,” the man said with a smile. Another whistle brought Maon back to his side. He ruffled the dog’s ears in a gesture that brought back a memory to Aiden.
“Jamey?” he cried. “Jamey, it’s me, Aiden!”
Recognition broke over Jamey’s face. “Aiden! I never thought I’d be seeing you here again!” He clapped Aiden on the shoulder as they embraced. “Where’ve you been?”
“I’ve been traveling all over Cimbria. There’s always some battle to fight,” Aiden replied. “What about you? How’s your father?”
“Father died a few years back. Our banishment was harder on him than he let on. When he died, I went tae Scodra tae tell Laird Gòrdan. Everyone expected him tae pardon me then, but he never did, so I’m on my own now,” Jamey said.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Aiden said. “I’d have liked to see him again.”
“Aye, and he’d have given you another lecture for running off tae the forest tae visit us again.”
“To be fair, I was only caught twice.” Aiden turned more serious. “Jamey, do you know how my brothers are?”
“Sure. I get most of my news from the settlements,” Jamey said. “Ranulf’s as serious as ever. There’s some hope that your father might pass the torc tae him soon. Young Tamhas is turning intae the finest bard a Clan could ask for.”
“What about William?” Aiden asked quietly.
“He left almost two years ago. There’s been no word since. He claims that Will is a traitor and went tae turn the other Clans against us, but no one believes it.”
“Who said that?”
Jamey sighed. “His name is Adalwulf. I’m afraid you’ll find things changed since you left.”
Jamey and Maon accompanied Aiden down the road until they came to the edge of the valley. There Jamey stopped.
“I can’nae go any further,” he said. “Be careful, Aiden, and if you can get away, the house is still open tae you.”
Aiden smiled. “I’ll try and take you up on that.”
Jamey returned to the forest and Aiden faced the valley which spread out for more than a mile. In the distance the clear, blue waters of a lake glistened in the sun. Around the shores of the lake and throughout the valley were fields tended by the Clanspeople. On the nearer side of the lake, a huge three-storied wooden fortress rose up, surrounded by many smaller houses and dwellings. A vast circular wall made of rocks and timber encompassed the structures. More than half of Clan Canich lived in the Scodra valley while the rest lived in other towns and settlements scattered throughout the forest.
The valley seemed peaceful enough until Aiden realized just how quiet it was. He led Narak down the road past the mostly tended, but several uncharacteristically overgrown, fields. The few people working there looked up in fear as he passed.
The gates to the fortress stood open and he entered. The vast compound was quiet and empty of ordinary daily activity. As in the fields, only a few Clanspeople moved about, gazing at him in mistrust. Aiden realized how he must have looked dressed in Southern clothes, carrying strange weapons and leading a fine Calorin stallion.
Several dark figures who lounged on the stairs of the fortress arose and walked toward him. The obvious leader of the group swaggered forward. His clothes were of a style foreign to Braeton but he wore the blue plaid cloak of Clan Canich. His long, blonde hair was pulled back in braids, and he carried a battle-axe which suggested he was from Durna.
“Who are you?” the man demanded rudely in a clipped accent.
“You’re no Braeton and yet you wear the plaid, so maybe I should be asking the questions,” Aiden returned.
“Save your insolence or you’ll answer for it when you come before Adalwulf!”
“Och, it’s not Adalwulf I want tae see.” Aiden’s sudden irritation sent him relapsing into his thick brogue. “I’m looking for Ranulf.”
“All strangers must be announced before Adalwulf. He will decide if you may stay,” the man said arrogantly.
“Last I heard, it was Laird Gòrdan who ruled here and not this Adalwulf!” Aiden’s temper began to flare. “Now get out of my way!”
The Durnian’s jaw dropped open, apparently shocked that Aiden dared to stand up to him. He moved to grab Aiden and bring him inside, but Aiden took hold of the man’s arm, twisting it behind his back, and forcing the man to his knees. Another Durnian moved to help his leader but froze as the point of Aiden’s sword hovered at his throat.
“I’ve no intention of being bullied about. I’ll come and go as I please, and if you try and stop me again, it’s your arm you’ll be losing.” Aiden’s voice was dangerously low as he spoke to the captain. “Now, where is Ranulf?”
When the man did not answer, Aiden twisted his arm harder.
“Inside!” the man groaned.
Aiden glanced up to see a young man staring open-mouthed at the proceedings.
“You there! Get over here!” Aiden called and the young warrior hurried over. “What’s your name?”
“Alec, sir,” the man replied.
“Take my horse tae the stables and see he is well cared for. If he’s not, I’ll take it out on you personally,” Aiden said.
Alec nodded and led Narak away. Aiden gave the Durnian’s arm one last twist and released him.
“The same goes for you two as well,” he threatened the other soldiers. Sheathing his sword, he stepped through them and up the stairs of the fortress.
“Impressive, but you just made a powerful enemy out of Torsten,” said a tall, lean man standing by the huge oaken doors.
“It’s a talent I have of offending all the right people,” Aiden replied. “That great windbag will think twice before next time.”
The man laughed. “Still as cocky as ever, eh, Aiden?”
Aiden saw part of the wildcat tattoo under the man’s rolled up sleeve, and he smiled. “Afraid so, Davy.” He used the brothers’ inexplicable childhood nickname for Ranulf. Bounding up the remaining stairs, he wrapped his brother in a rough embrace, returned affectionately by Ranulf.
“So you finally decided tae come home then?” Ranulf asked.
“Aye, I promised I would,” Aiden replied. “Just like I promised you I’d find you first.”
Ranulf stood back and crossed his arms. “I can’nae tell you how good it is tae see you again! Where have you been?”
“Everywhere,” Aiden said. “I’ve been tae the South, Gelion, and spent time in Aredor. But that’s not important. Ranulf, what happened here?”
“I think it’s best if I tell you in private,” Ranulf said. “Let me find Tam first.”
A fire blazed on the hearth in the middle of the great hall. Benches were shoved against the walls out of the way. Sunlight shone through the few windows, illuminating the long hall and casting shadows among the heavy ceiling beams. Despite the fire and the warm afternoon, the hall remained cold and empty. At one end of the hall on a raised dais stood an empty, ornate wooden chair draped with a wildcat skin. Aiden stared at it for a moment, half expecting to see his father sitting there and glaring angrily at him.
“Here he is now! Tam!” Ranulf shouted at a figure crossing the other end of the hall.
Tamhas acknowledged Ranulf’s hail and came over to them. Aiden studied his younger brother curiously. A young man of twenty-three now, he had the same green eyes as the rest of the brothers. Tousled black hair framed an open face with a puckish grin. He was slim and muscular and carried himself with an easy grace.
“What’s happening? Torsten stormed through here looking for Adalwulf,” Tam asked Ranulf.
“Our new arrival managed tae upset him a little. You’ll now have tae deal directly with Adalwulf. He’s not easy tae bargain with,” Ranulf told Aiden
.
“I’m not worried, Davy. I’ve always preferred being announced,” Aiden said.
“That’s grand, but Torsten won’t rest until he’s killed you.” Tam turned to Aiden.
“Don’t fret, Tam! I’ve faced worse than that scoundrel,” Aiden said cheerfully.
Tam frowned in puzzled surprise. “Do I know you?”
“Och, it’s a sad day when you can’nae recognize your own brother!” Aiden said.
“Unbelievable! Aiden, you’re back!” Tam exclaimed, stepping into an embrace.
Ranulf forestalled the flood of questions Tam was about to unleash by saying, “Let’s go tae our old meeting place, and we’ll tell you everything.”
The brothers ascended several flights of stairs into one of the tall wooden towers of the keep. Pushing open a trapdoor, they climbed up into the chamber of the tower. Ranulf sat on a stool, Aiden leaned against the wall, and Tam settled on the floor.
“It all started about two years ago,” Ranulf began. “Mother died that spring. I’m sorry, Aiden.”
Shock slammed into Aiden like an unyielding wall, and he bowed his head to hide the sudden tears that sprang to his eyes. He’d never even stopped to consider that he might lose any of his family while he’d been away. Ranulf gave him a moment to collect himself before continuing.
“Father took it hard, as did we all. He became strained and more and more angry. That summer we went hunting after a wild boar that was tearing up the fields. Adalwulf had arrived a few weeks before, claiming tae have been driven out of Durna. He went with us on the hunt. That day was unlucky as the boar turned and would have gored Father tae death if Adalwulf had not stepped in and killed it.
“After that, he was ever at Father’s side and began tae advise him. Will mistrusted Adalwulf from the start, but nothing he said would deter Father from the smooth words of Adalwulf. You know Will’s temper. He almost killed Adalwulf, but Father intervened. The argument they had was enough tae bring the hall down around us. The next morning Will left. Tam and I saw him off, but we don’t know where he went.” Ranulf said. “When Will left, Father secluded himself in his room for days. All he would say was ‘I have driven off and lost another son.’ He began tae rely on Adalwulf even more and that’s when Adalwulf’s true nature revealed itself. He claimed that Will had gone tae turn the Clans against us, and before we knew it, he began tae set the warriors against one another. Last year they began tae leave. Those with young families went tae the settlements. Most went tae Clan Mavor where there’s always some battle going on they could join. A small group went tae Clan Dyson.
The Wildcat of Braeton Page 4
