“If he dinnae want tae take this seriously then fine. I just hope she dinnae get hurt out there,” Malcolm said. Rhys suppressed a smile. As Caitlin walked out she flashed a smile at Rhys and gave him a wink. The fact that she was actually willing to go out there herself left him utterly enamored. She walked with confidence and took her position in front of the targets. Six axes were waiting for them, three axes each. There was a target standing before them, with different colors indicating different zones. After each person had thrown their axes the scores would be tallied and the winner would be declared.
Black Pete stepped up and pulled an axe up with a huge hand. He handled it easily, as though it was no more than a twig. He took aim, his huge bicep curling, and then flung the axe forward. It spun through the air, the metal head gleaming as it caught the sun, and it landed almost square in the middle with a loud thunk. A ripple of applause was given to Black Pete as he turned and sneered at Caitlin. She seemed unaffected by this, and although Rhys should have been cheering for Black Pete, he found himself hoping that Caitlin’s confidence was not unfounded. He leaned forward as she used two hands to pick the axe up and hoist it over her shoulder. The axe looked much bigger in her hands than it had for Black Pete, and Rhys was worried that Caitlin had bitten off more than she could chew. Where Black Pete had tossed the axe without a second thought, Caitlin spread her legs and angled her body. She took aim carefully and went through the motions of throwing the axe before she actually went through with it. Her body moved gracefully and she followed through with her arm, holding her position as the axe found its home in the middle of the target, nestled against the axe that had already been thrown by Black Pete. The McCleareys roared when they saw that she had scored the same as him, and Black Pete glowered.
He stormed up and pulled the second axe out of the ground, then hurled it through the air. It struck the target with such force that Rhys thought for a moment it was going to teeter and topple over. Malcolm cheered in triumph, but his grin fell as Caitlin matched Black Pete two for two. It was going to come down to the last throw. At the moment both Black Pete and Caitlin had matching points, for their axes were nestled into the yellow portion of the target. It brought another element into play, as now space was at a premium. Going for the middle would grant them the most points, but it also ran the risk of them hitting another axe and falling harmlessly to the ground.
Black Pete took more time to take aim this time. A tense hush settled over the watching crowd. Everyone leaned forward. For something that had been suggested as a way to add spice to the day, the competition had captured everyone’s attention and they were eager to see who emerged victoriously. Rhys’s hand rested under his chin and he watched carefully, willing Caitlin to win. She looked confident of her chances, while Rhys could tell that Black Pete was feeling the strain. He had more to lose, of course; if Caitlin lost people wouldn’t think any less of her because she was just a lass. But Black Pete had an entire reputation in danger. If he lost to Caitlin he would no longer be a fearsome man—he would always be the man who lost to a lass, and he would never live it down.
The black hair on his shoulders was matted in sweat. His hand trembled as he brought his arm back. He licked his lips, and then he threw the axe. He roared as he did so, as though he could will the ax on with his voice. Rhys followed the path of the axe. Everyone did. There was a disappointed hush as it hit the target. Black Pete, a man renowned for his ferocity and fearlessness, had played it safe. The axe had avoided the cluster in the middle and he had taken the easy points in the blue zone towards the edge of the target, banking on Caitlin missing entirely.
Rhys saw Malcolm scowl. “What a coward,” he cursed, and shook his head.
Bryn leaned back, looking smug. Black Pete’s shoulders were hunched and he gazed at Caitlin as she walked forward, picking up the final axe. Black Pete’s move had deflated the crowd for they wanted something impressive, something glorious. All eyes were on Caitlin as she took her position again and went through her regular motions, as graceful as a swan. She seemed cool and relaxed under pressure, as though nothing fazed her at all. With every passing moment Rhys’s impression of her improved, and he grew more enamored with her resolve as well as her beauty. She may have been a McClearey, but she had the essence of the finest heart of a Highland spirit.
From her hand, the axe flew. Rhys’s mouth opened in awe as time seemed to slow. The axe flew straight, and it hit its intended target, nestling among the cluster of axes, right in the middle of the target. It was a nearly impossible shot, but Caitlin had made it look easy. As soon as the axe hit its target there was a stunned silence, as though nobody in attendance could quite believe Caitlin had made it look so easy, but there was no denying her skill. Black Pete’s head hung in shame. Caitlin wheeled away and pumped her fist in the air as she turned to her clansmen and was overrun by a sea of people who wanted to help her celebrate. They lifted her up and carried her on their shoulders. Rhys got up too and applauded, even though he had to suffer a black look from his father. The McClearey clan had won fairly, with a display of great skill from Caitlin, and it had to be applauded.
While the rest of his clan was celebrating, Bryn walked up to Malcolm with a smug look on his face.
“It seems as though ye men are nae as good as ye think,” Bryn said.
Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “Aye, ye lass got lucky.”
“Luck has naething tae dae with it, Malcolm. She’s been practicing like that for years now. Aye, there are times when I thought she would gae and live in the wild rather than give her hand in marriage, but she knows what’s important. She’ll make ye son a good wife. And let’s nae be tae angry with each other. It was just a wee bit of fun like ye said. Let’s gae and get ready for the meal tonight,” Bryn said. Malcolm nodded and seemed to accept Bryn’s offer of peace, but as he turned around, Rhys could see Malcolm glower.
“He’ll pay for that,” Malcolm muttered as he stormed past Rhys. He stopped and looked up at his son. “And why ye cheered for her I dinnae ken. Loyalty tae the clan before all else,” he said, shaking his head as he walked away. Rhys pursed his lips and sighed as he looked up and saw Caitlin reveling in the celebration with the people of her clan. Rhys smiled and decided to leave without saying anything to her so that she could enjoy the moment. It was a strange thing to see, for he knew that soon enough they would either be killed or in servitude to the Frasier clan. Let them celebrate, he thought, for soon enough they will lose everything they hold dear.
5
Caitlin was still exhilarated hours after the axe throwing contest. She had practiced a lot, but making the shot gave her a sense of triumph that couldn’t be matched. She also enjoyed the fact that she had performed so well in front of Rhys, for she wanted to impress him and, actually, his presence had given her some confidence in the matter. After the celebration she had returned to the keep and bathed, preparing herself for a meal. The water trickled over her supple skin and the foamy lather calmed her and washed off all the sweat from the excitement. Her mother walked in and brought in a fresh dress that she could wear for the evening, a deep purple gown that was flowing and long.
“I cannae believe ye did what ye did taeday,” Violet began. “Ye should know better by now. It’s time for ye tae leave these foolish things behind and act like a lady. Dae ye really think yer husband is gaeing tae want a lass who throws axes?” Violet shook her head disapprovingly. “Ye need tae leave ye childhood behind. I hae tried tae tell ye that ye are a woman now, nae a lass, but ye wilnae listen.”
Caitlin shook her head and exhaled deeply. She sank a little more deeply into the bath, allowing the water to rise and nestle against her chin. The warmth was soothing against her muscles and a part of her wished that she could stay in the water forever and drown in the abyss, for it was easier than being lectured about how to live her life. It had always been the same with her mother though. Violet had always treated Caitlin differently than the boys.
“Ye wouldnae b
e saying that if it were one of my brothers,” Caitlin said.
“Of course I wouldnae! They are men, they’re made for rough things like that. We hae our own roles tae play, lass. That is one thing ye need tae understand. The world changes, and we hae tae change with it.”
Caitlin splashed the water petulantly and pursed her lips. Her expression darkened and she glared towards her mother. Instead of celebrating her triumph, Violet decided to chastise her. Violet heard the splashing and turned to face Caitlin with a sympathetic look on her face. She inhaled and her entire body seemed to sag, and then she perched on the edge of the bath and bowed her head.
“I dinnae mean tae make ye upset. It’s just that when ye were born I looked forward tae haeing a wee lass, but ye were nae like any other lass I hae ever known. Ye hae always been more like ye da. And I’m nae saying that’s a bad thing. I love ye, but there are times when I feel like I hae four boys and that I’m the only woman here. I suppose I will be when ye leave.” Sorrow filled her voice and whatever enmity Caitlin felt towards her mother diminished immediately. Caitlin adjusted her position to lean against the side of the bath and she placed her hand on Violet’s. The water shifted around her body, creating ripples.
“I’m gaeing tae miss ye tae Ma, and I’m sorry that I cannae be all ye want all the time. But maybe one day I’ll have a wee lass all of my own and she’ll dae all the girly things that ye want.”
Violet offered a sad smile. When she looked at Caitlin, Caitlin saw tears glistening in her mother’s eyes. “I’m gaeing tae miss ye sae much. I cannae imagine this place without ye. It’s never gaeing tae be the same again.”
“It will nae be, but that doesnae mean that I’ll never be here again. I’ll come and visit as often as I can, and ye can visit me tae! It’ll be good for ye, as ye will hae a chance tae get away from everyone here. Without me around the boys will be sure tae drive ye crazy,” Caitlin joked. It was enough to lift Violet’s mood and she smiled, nodding along. She rose from the edge of the bath and held out a towel for Caitlin to dry herself. Water trickled down the curves of Caitlin’s body as she stood up. She wrapped the towel around herself and quickly got dried before changing into her outfit for the evening.
“I’d better be gaeing tae get ready myself,” Violet said before she excused herself. Caitlin hugged her tightly before she left, and for the first time, it actually hit her that she would be leaving home. Everything was changing and she would have a home of her own where she would make the rules. It was going to be strange to not have her family around her every day, but she took a deep breath and told herself that she would get used to it.
A little while later Bryn knocked on her door and she welcomed him in. When he saw her he beamed radiantly and kissed her on both cheeks, taking her hand in his.
“Well done for what ye did taeday. Ye should hae seen the look on Malcolm’s face! I know that we are gaeing tae be allies, but it was good tae put one over on him,” Bryn said.
She smiled. “I’m glad I could dae the clan proud Da. Ma was in here a wee while ago and she didnae like me behaving like that in front of Rhys.”
Bryn offered a small smile. “Aye, well, ye ma hae always tried tae protect ye. She means well, but ye and I both know that ye are stronger than ye look. That’s why I knew I could agree tae this treaty because ye would be able tae handle the responsibility.” He chuckled to himself and his eyes lit up. “When ye were wee ye ma and I haed plenty of arguments about ye being let out tae play in the woods. She never wanted ye tae gae far, but I could see how much ye enjoyed it. That spirit of adventure will serve ye well.” He looked upon her with kind eyes.
“Da…it’s gaeing tae be safe, isn’t it? I’m gaeing tae be safe in their home?” A hint of worry crept into Caitlin’s voice. Being reminded of her childhood gave rise to a feeling of nostalgia. This place would always be her home. It was a place she associated with safety and warm, happy feelings. To leave it was to leave a part of herself behind and she couldn’t be sure that she would have the same feelings anywhere else.
Bryn squeezed her hands and tilted his head to the side, looking at her with the reassurance that only a father could provide.
“Aye lass, it’s gaeing tae be just fine. We both know ye can handle anything, and while it’s gaeing tae be difficult at first, ye will adjust. Ye’ll be able tae come back as often as ye like, and we’ll see each other as much as possible.” Shadows flickered across his face as his expression darkened. “And if they dae anything tae hurt ye I will make them pay.”
The tone of his voice was chilling and it reminded Caitlin that her father was not just kind and compassionate, but that he had a ruthless streak as well. She often wondered what he had looked like in battle. He was modest so he rarely spoke about his glory, but she had heard stories from his men and they spoke about him as though he was a god. They paid tribute to his ability to glide through enemy soldiers as though they were not there, and how his mind was second to none in the arena of military tactics. War was a haunting thing, but she had to be amazed by the fact that her father had survived so many battles.
The last thing she had to place around her neck was the necklace she had made. The family ring rested against her chest, and then she was ready to be escorted down to dinner. The evening promised to be a little more subdued than the feast the night before, but she was looking forward to spending more time getting to know Rhys, even though she had to work through the irrational part of her mind that kept thinking of him as the enemy.
“How are ye liking the young warrior?” Bryn asked as he escorted her down to the dining hall. “I was glad tae see ye dance last night. Ye both seemed tae be in good spirits.”
“Aye, it took a wee bit of time, but I think we warmed up tae each other,” Caitlin said. “He’s nae what I expected.” She blushed a little and she tried to dip her head to hide her expression from Bryn.
“He seems tae much like his da for my liking, but I suppose that cannae be helped. It’s gaeing tae take a long time for me tae get used tae the idea of being family with them,” Bryn admitted.
“I’m trying nae tae think of him as the enemy.”
“It’s a time of great change for all of us. It’s still a struggle for me tae believe that I’m accepting them intae my keep without being worried they’re gaeing tae attack. The only time I’ve seen this many Frasiers taegether haes been in battle.”
Caitlin smiled softly. “I’m glad that there will be nae more battles. I was always afraid that when ye’d gae off tae war ye would never come back. I will nae be sorry tae say goodbye tae that part of life.”
“Neither will I,” Bryn replied with surprising earnestness as they reached the dining hall and got ready for another night of festivity.
6
Rhys adjusted his tunic. It was tight around the collar, tight around everywhere really. Although he was a laird and thus should have shown some signs of nobility, such matters had never much concerned the men of the Frasier clan. They preferred to wear clothes that reflected the wild world around them. Rhys usually dressed in simple material that had plenty of room to move. This tunic was stiff and his body felt constrained. He scowled as he wondered why he was doing this, but then he thought of Caitlin and how pretty she had looked for him. He supposed he could put up with some mild discomfort for a little while at least. Soon enough life would go on as normal.
He had not been able to rid himself of the disquiet in his heart. The unease had settled inside him and wouldn’t be moved at all, although there was nobody he could share this with and it made it difficult. Rhys was used to problems he could meet with a sword or wrestle to the ground with his mighty strength. Emotions were elusive things, wispy and coy, and he wished that he could think straight.
Rhys was just about to leave for dinner when there was a knock at his door and Malcolm returned to speak to him again. He wore a loose shirt and didn’t look as smart as Rhys. Upon seeing his son, Malcolm let out a hearty laugh.
“Ye loo
k a dandy fool!” he said, placing his hands on his stomach. “I bet ye cannae wait for this tae be over sae things can gae back tae normal.” The laughter died down and he wiped a tear from his eyes. Rhys remained motionless and stoic for he didn’t quite see what was so funny about his appearance.
“Now, I hae something tae tell ye,” Malcolm said. “I’ve been speaking with some of the other men and we’ve adjusted the plan slightly. I want them tae be completely at ease. I realize that if they suspect an attack they’ll expect it tae come straight away. I want them tae think that everything is gaeing tae plan, and then we strike when they least expect it!” He clenched his fist and smiled widely. His eyes gleamed with the hunger of a wolf.
“I see. And what will happen with Caitlin in all this? Will we still be married?”
Malcolm’s brow furrowed deeply and he looked at Rhys as though the boy was witless. “Ye can dae what ye like with her! What dae I care?” He crossed his arms and regarded Rhys with a harsh gaze. He lifted his hand and started to wag a finger at his son. “Now dinnae ye start tae get enamored with this lass. Dinnae forget why we’re here. Ye can dae what ye like with her for all I care. Ye certainly deserve something out of this for the part ye are playing, but for the love of the gods dinnae gae falling in love with her.”
“I’m nae in love!” Rhys said with a force that surprised even him. His fists clenched by his side and his cheeks reddened as his body went rigid. “I just want tae make sure everything goes as ye hae planned,” he added in an effort to compose himself. Malcolm remained unconvinced. The big man pursed his lips, but he didn’t pursue the subject any more deeply. Instead, he paced around the room and looked up to the ceiling, as though he was inspecting the keep that he would have for himself soon.
Highlander's War 0f Clans (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 5
