Aiden didn’t have a definite goal in mind. All he knew was that he wanted some fresh air. He walked slowly down the familiar hallways and let the memories rush back, some good and some bad.
He eventually came to the main hall where servants moved around cleaning and preparing. Some noticed him and greeted him with smiles. Blair and Douglas came through the open doors and caught sight of him.
“Aiden!” Douglas cried, and they moved toward him. “I seem tae miss everything exciting around here.” He clasped Aiden’s hand.
“Next time you can hold off the bloodthirsty horde, and I’ll go for help,” Aiden said.
“On second thought…” Douglas laughed.
“Glad tae see you’re up,” Blair said.
“Thanks,” Aiden replied. “What’s been going on the past few days?”
“I’ve been working my fingers tae the bone,” Douglas said.
Blair elbowed him in the stomach. “The only thing you’ve been doing is avoiding work. They’ve got the main gates fixed, and any damages tae the outside of the keep have been repaired.”
“Aye, except for the windows,” Douglas said.
“Laird Gòrdan didn’t seem too happy with how many were broken,” Blair said. “I do feel a bit bad about that.”
“No, you don’t,” Douglas said.
“You’re right, it was a little funny tae see him squirm,” Blair said, then checked himself. “I’m sorry, Aiden.”
Aiden gave a slight smile; he could imagine it. He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s all right for now. I’m still getting used tae being on moderately good terms with him.”
“Speaking of that, I guess you should know that some of the old stories about you are resurfacing,” Douglas said.
“Anything good?” Aiden asked.
“I’ve made it my duty tae hear every one of them, so you can rest assured that no, none of them are particularly good,” Douglas replied.
“Good tae see some things haven’t changed much around here.” Aiden smiled wryly. “What about the dead?”
“They were laid tae rest the night after the battle. You missed the Lament. We all thought we might have tae play it again for you,” Blair said.
“I’m thankful you didn’t,” Aiden replied. “I’m sorry I missed it. I would like tae visit.”
“Are you up for the walk?” Douglas asked.
“Probably not, but don’t tell anyone,” Aiden said.
He and the two warriors left the keep and headed toward the far side of the lake. It was further than it looked, but Aiden was enjoying the warm, summer air too much to complain.
The burial grounds of the Clan rested silent under the whispering trees. Blair and Douglas halted by newly dug graves. There were more than Aiden remembered. Blair stood in front of one.
Douglas rested a hand on his shoulder. “I see your mother’s been here,” he said, indicating the flowers that rested on the grave.
“Aye, and my sisters. They arrived a few days ago,” Blair replied.
Aiden listened in silence. There were more tokens on the graves: memoirs to the fallen warriors from their families. He knew there was one more grave that he should visit, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet.
Their conversation returned as they left the grounds and neared the keep. Aiden saw the figure waiting in the gateway and smiled.
“You’ve only been up for a few hours and you’re already in trouble.” Ranulf shook his head.
“What can I say? Some things never change.” Aiden grinned.
Ranulf laughed. “Come on. Skive’s been looking for you, and you’ve already been tae the kitchens, I hear.”
“I’m just trying to get back tae normal, that’s all.”
Ranulf shoved him lightly toward the keep. “Get on with you!”
* * *
The next day was a haze of anticipation. As the sun moved to the edge of the western sky, Clan Canich gathered at the tables set out in the open courtyard. The laden trestles were set in a wide rectangle with a fire burning in the middle. As everyone gathered, Ranulf came forward and threw a folded piece of the blue plaid into the flames. The Clan stood in silence to honor the fallen warriors and then the feast began in earnest.
As the sun finally set, torches were lit, and candles on the tables sprang to life. Aiden sat at the head table with his brothers and father. Artair and the other captains sat with them. Jamey had come back to Scodra for the celebration and sat at one of the lower benches with Skive and Blair.
Aiden sat back and watched the people surrounding the tables. Everything was a picture of happiness.
“Anything wrong?” Ranulf asked him.
“No, it’s just been so long since I’ve been part of anything like this,” Aiden replied.
“Well, then, welcome home.” Ranulf nudged his shoulder.
A laugh broke from Aiden before he could stop it.
“What are you laughing about?” Tam asked.
“Nothing. I’m just happy,” Aiden said.
“It’s about time!” Tam grinned, and Ranulf and Aiden laughed harder.
“Oi! Tam! Are you going tae drink all night, or will you give us a song?” a warrior called.
“I might, Macraith, if you’re still slim enough tae dance!” Tam shouted back through the laughter.
He vaulted over the table and took up his pipes. At the first trill, the tables were vacated as men and women filled the space between the tables with a whirling dance. Tam allowed them no rest, and as soon as he finished, he began another tune.
The Clanspeople breathlessly found new partners and began again. Jamey asked a blushing young woman, and Blair escorted her sister into the ring. Jean and Brannan twirled each other around in a corner. Ranulf found Brighde and whirled her effortlessly into the dance. Rona danced with her brother who had returned with Ranulf and Artair.
Aiden sat by his father, strictly prohibited from joining in because of his still-healing wounds. Truthfully though, he was glad to have the excuse.
“How much longer until you’re free of that sling?” Gòrdan asked.
“Skive hasn’t told me, but hopefully not much longer. I’m not very patient with it,” Aiden replied. He hated the restrictiveness of the bandages as well as the forced inactivity since he was used to riding and fighting constantly.
“I wish your mother were here tae see you again,” Gòrdan said.
“I would have liked tae be able tae tell her good-bye at least.”
“She’d be proud of you. Just like I am,” his father said.
Aiden only nodded, feeling his eyes smart. It must be the smoke, he told himself.
Tam played another five songs and then surrendered the bagpipes to Macraith as the dancers collapsed onto the benches. Tam took up a small, flat drum and, as Macraith began to play, he stroked time on the drum. As soon as they had the strong marching tune, Tam began to sing. The warriors joined in, stomping every third beat to the old battle song.
Song followed song, and then, as the moon took its place in the sky, Tam took up the bagpipes. A woman stood and sang the Clan’s Lament as he played. After the last notes faded into the night, and a respectful silence was observed, Tam began to sing. To Aiden’s slight discomfort, it was the retelling of the siege of Scodra, the raising of the Clan, the prominent part he had played, and his fight as Champion. As Tam finished, the Clan rose and cheered their acclaim. The warriors raised their swords in a salute to Aiden.
“What are you gonna play next, Tam?” Brannan asked as it finally quieted.
“Och, give the laddie a break, ye wee terror!” Macraith said. “I bet I can out fiddle you and all the little ones, eh?”
Brannan and the young children whooped in excitement as Macraith unpacked his fiddle. He began a merry reel and the children danced, effortlessly keeping time.
Tam sat down on the bench and leaned against the table. Aiden brought him a drink and took a seat next to him.
“How do you do it?” Aiden asked,
impressed with his brother’s skill.
Tam shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt like it’s a part of me. What about you, Danny? Do you sing?”
“No, I haven’t had much tae sing about,” Aiden replied. “And no, you won’t get me tae.”
Tam laughed. “We’ll see.”
Jamey and Blair joined them. “Now that you’re not playing, Tam, there’s several young ladies who want tae dance with you,” Jamey said, grinning.
“Och, I don’t know, Jamey, you looked like you were keeping them occupied.” Tam smirked, and they broke into laughter.
“Aye, I’m trying tae hide from little Jean right now. She told me I had tae dance with her,” Jamey said.
It only took Jean a few minutes to find Jamey and Tam. The small girl ran up accompanied by Donnan.
“Tam, play ‘The Frog’s Reel’ so Jamey and I can dance,” she said.
“Right now?” Tam asked.
“Of course, silly,” Donnan spoke up.
“If you can help me up, I’ll play it,” Tam said.
Jean and Donnan grabbed his hands and pulled. Their faces twisted with effort as they tried to move Tam.
“No fair! You’re too big!” Donnan muttered.
Aiden tipped a wink to Jamey and, as the children pulled again, they shoved Tam forward.
“Ha! We got you up! Now you hafta play!” Jean said triumphantly, and Tam conceded defeat.
“Come on, me darlin’!” Jamey swept the giggling Jean into his arms.
“We’ll make sure Tam plays it. Right, Donnan?” Blair and the young boy marched Tam off to where he took up the bagpipes again.
Rona came up and sat next to Aiden. “It’s not so bad, is it?” she asked.
“We must endure it,” he replied, unsuccessfully attempting to keep a solemn face.
“Yes, it’s a hard, terrible life you lead now, isn’t it?” Rona said.
“Och, as always,” he said. She nudged him sharply in the ribs. “Beautiful and cruel you are!” he exclaimed.
Rona adopted a lofty look but couldn’t hold it for long.
“So what now?” she asked. “No dragons tae slay or helpless maidens tae rescue?”
Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve got some catching up tae do though.” He glanced over to where his brothers and Jamey stood.
Lit by the torches and the brilliant full moon, the feast continued long into the night.
Chapter 15
Corin absentmindedly tapped the heel of his boot against the chair as he wrote. Gerralt cleared his throat thunderously. The noise startled Corin so much that he jerked violently and broke the tip of the quill. He bit back a flow of Calorin and glared at Gerralt. Unperturbed, the secretary stared frostily back.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it isn’t polite to curse?” an amused voice asked.
Corin turned his glare to Martin who stood in the doorway. “I’m going down to the training grounds. You coming?” Martin asked.
“Maybe later. I still have some reports to look over,” Corin said.
“Are you a soldier or a scholar? Gerralt can take care of it. I’m sure he’s fully capable.”
Gerralt sniffed in agreement. That decided it for Corin. He grabbed his weapons hanging from the back of the chair and stalked from the room followed by a smiling Martin.
“Even during the war you weren’t this stressed.” Martin fired an arrow and nodded in satisfaction as it hit the center of the target.
“Gerralt’s been more zealous recently with his use of ‘your highness’ and ‘sire.’” Corin aimed to match Martin’s shot.
“Someone actually using your titles? We can’t have that, can we?” Martin put an arrow into the second ring of the target.
“Shut up!” Corin sent his arrow to land beside Martin’s.
Martin shot again. “Well, technically you could fire him, couldn’t you?”
“Yes, but as much as I hate to admit it, he keeps a good handle on things, especially when I’m gone.”
“Or maybe Darrin is trying to get you to acknowledge your exalted position,” Martin suggested.
“I have seriously considered it.” Corin grimaced as his arrow landed further from Martin’s than he wanted.
“You really think he’d do that?”
Corin raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re right. He would,” Martin agreed. “Did you hear they’re holding the Autumn Festival again this year?”
“Aye. Darrin mentioned it the other day. He wants to invite the Clans,” Corin said as he released an arrow.
“This will be your first in a few years, won’t it?”
“Aye, last time we were still racing ponies.” Corin smiled at the memories.
“Trey still wins the horse races, but Zephyr could easily beat that mare of his.”
“Maybe, but as soon as that big lump of a horse smells a race he gets so excited that he wears himself out before we even start,” Corin said.
Martin laughed and sighted down another shaft. His next question surprised Corin.
“So, what have you done to my sister?” He didn’t quite hide a grin as Corin’s arrow flew wide of the target.
“What?” Corin asked, startled.
“She mentioned you at least four times this morning,” Martin said. He laughed again as Corin searched for an answer and came up with nothing. “And it’s the happiest she’s looked in a while.”
“So…?” Corin questioned.
“Of course I don’t mind!” Martin said. “For some reason she seems to like you.” He studied the target as he prepared to shoot again. “All right, I’ve given you an easy shot that you can’t miss.” He smirked as he stepped away.
“I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?” Corin asked ruefully as he shot.
“Of course not!” Martin said cheerfully. “What kind of a friend would I be?”
* * *
“Gerralt, how can I help you?” Prince Darrin asked as the secretary entered his study.
“I just need a few signatures, your highness.” Gerralt presented several letters to Prince Darrin. He looked around wistfully as he waited for the prince to finish. He missed the rich furnishings of the castle offices. The small study in the barracks contained only the bare minimum.
“How do you like your new position?” Prince Darrin asked, seeming genuinely curious as to the answer, no doubt having already heard his brother’s opinion on their situation.
“Getting a mule to move would be easier than getting any work done! ‘I have a system,’ he says! All I see are hopeless piles of letters and reports. He hardly stays long enough to get anything done!” Gerralt began somewhat irately, and then remembered whom he was talking to. “Your pardon, my lord.”
Prince Darrin waved him off. “Gerralt, he’s not used to any of this, and he doesn’t have the greatest store of patience.”
Gerralt sniffed. He had noticed. “Perhaps. But if he did not rush off to the forest every chance he gets and then stay for who knows how long and, not only that, but he insists on leaving with anyone who might need something, so he’s hopelessly behind in the work!” he fumed politely.
“Corin might be a prince, but the Hawk Flight is who he is. Nothing will ever change that, and wild horses couldn’t drag him away from the men under his command.”
“But all of the warbands are under his command!” Gerralt protested.
“Exactly. Once you see that, you’ll understand him better.”
Gerralt sniffed. He didn’t believe in “getting to know” one’s obvious superiors, even if they didn’t act like it.
“I’ve ignored you all day. What do you need?” Prince Corin asked as he entered the study without knocking, a habit which grated on Gerralt’s nerves especially since it seemed to extend to all of Corin’s men. Prince Corin stopped when he saw Gerralt. Gerralt gathered up his papers and exchanged a frosty glance with the prince as he left the room.
“Don’t give me that look,” Prince Co
rin said to Prince Darrin. “I don’t know why you assigned him to help me.”
Despite himself, Gerralt stopped outside the door.
“Because he’s a good influence on you.” Prince Darrin sounded like he was hiding a smile.
“I knew it. But he’s built my character quite enough, thanks.”
Prince Darrin chuckled.
“Come on, Darrin. I’m never going to be any good with all these titles. I’d be perfectly happy just being a captain.”
“But when we first saw each other again you didn’t want to be the captain.”
“Don’t change the subject. You know what I mean.”
“You’re one of the few people I would entrust with the job.”
“Well, then, let the other person do it.”
“Martin blatantly refused.”
Prince Corin groaned in frustration.
“Look, if you want I can replace Gerralt.”
Outside, Gerralt held his breath as Prince Corin paused before replying.
“No, let him stay. He manages everything well, despite the fact that we irritate each other.”
Gerralt was a little surprised. He had expected to be dismissed at once. Maybe I should find out more about the prince. But he dismissed the thought and left. After all, there was still work to be done.
In the study, Corin and Darrin had turned to another subject.
“An official messenger is being sent to Clans Gunlon and Strowen for the festival. It might be easier if you sent a messenger to Clan Dyson,” Darrin said.
“We’d get there quicker,” Corin commented. “Kara’s in the middle of her run. I’ll send Kieran.”
“Have you heard anything about the state of Clan Canich?” Darrin asked.
Corin shook his head. “Brian would’ve told us. I asked him to keep us informed, mainly for Will’s sake.” Corin referred to the captain of the small force that Clan Dyson kept to patrol the border. The Clan had been an ally of the Hawk Flight in the war and so the two sides kept frequent contact.
“If anything has changed with the Clan, have Lord Dandin forward the message on,” Darrin said.
“What about Clan Mavor?”
“Last I heard from Lord Colwyn and Clan Gunlon, there’s a small war going on between Clan Mavor and the neighboring tribes across the mountains. We’ll send the invitation, but I don’t know if they’ll come,” Darrin said.
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