by Eliza Knight
“Aye,” Walter agreed.
As if fate agreed, the clouds overhead parted, allowing a sliver of the moon to come through and reflect off the white snow on the ground.
“Let’s make haste and give thanks for small favors.” Niall led his men to a shallow spot in the river to cross over with their horses, but there were no prints on the opposite side, nor in the woods beyond.
The only way to have disappeared like that was if they’d been on a birlinn or another small boat. Even on a watercraft, they would have had to get off at some point. Niall split the group into two, sending men south and taking a group north. They traveled for about an hour, until they came to a part of the river that would not have allowed a boat to pass, and there still had been no footprints on either side, at least none they could make out. They turned around and met the men who’d gone south in the middle. They too said they’d come to a waterfall. The men would have had to get out and swim to the shore or else fall over the edge. And there’d been no footprints.
What the bloody hell?
“They canna have simply disappeared.” His brother blew out a frustrated breath.
“Aye, we’ve missed something.” But what? The sun was starting to set, and soon it would be impossible to keep looking. “We’ll go back to the castle for now, send more men out on the morrow when the light is good.”
Back at the castle, the mood was somber. One of their own murdered, the rest of them terrorized, and seemingly by a ghost. The villagers were all warned, and those who couldn’t protect themselves were brought within the castle walls for sanctuary.
Niall sat brooding in the great hall, nursing an ale with his brother sitting silently in front of him. They’d arrived back late enough that most of the servants had gone home or to sleep. Bella, too, must have gone to sleep. Niall didn’t want to wake her or disturb her. To tell her he’d once again failed. That he couldn’t protect his people.
“My sons.” The sound of their mother’s frail voice rattled the two of them into sitting up. “What did ye discover?”
“Mother.” Niall sat up straighter. “I’m sorry if we woke ye.”
She waved away his words. “I couldna sleep for fear of what might happen. Tell me, what did ye discover?”
“Nothing.” Niall sat back, still brooding over what they could have missed.
“Ye dinna have to hide it from me,” she said bitterly. “Your father asked me to find out. He is still chief of his clan.”
“We tell the truth, Mother. We found nothing but Hammond’s body. We go out again in the morning.”
She shook her head. “Nay. Your chief has forbidden it.”
“What?” Walter asked while Niall sat silently staring.
Perhaps there was more to what Walter had alluded to in the study earlier in the day. That his parents, feeling the threat of age and the loss of power, were becoming unreasonable in the interim.
“Mother,” he said, standing up and leading her to his chair where he gently forced her to sit. “Listen, Walter and I are doing what is best for the clan. I am to be laird after Da goes to his reward. Walter is my heir.”
She grumbled something about the Sutherland chit not being able to bear children. For a moment, he thought she might have found out the truth, but then realized she was only being as sour as she’d been the day before. That because he’d alluded to Walter being his heir, she’d assumed Bella wasn’t capable.
“’Tis not fair the way ye’re treating my wife, my lady mother. I’m proud of her, and I want ye to be proud of her, too. Nothing is going to change in that respect, but what can change is that I will call a meeting of the clan elders and tell them Da is no longer able to lead his clan, ask them to take a vote for me to become laird now instead of at his death. They’d be mighty displeased to know that Da and ye dinna think it important to find out who murdered our scout. Who terrorizes our clan.”
Their mother pursed her lips. “Ye wouldna dare.”
“I would.”
“I’d back him,” Walter piped in. “Bella was good enough for the two of ye some months ago when Da informed me I was to ask for her hand. She is the reason Niall is not still upstairs in his room brooding.”
Niall clapped his brother on the back. “Not entirely. Ye did get me out of there.”
“If only because I mentioned the chit.”
“True enough.”
Still, their mother sat there contemplating. “I will endeavor to be nicer to the gel if ye will allow your father to remain in power.”
Niall shook his head. “Ye misunderstand me, Mother. I willna allow Da to put our clan in jeopardy, even if ye are cruel to my wife, though I never pegged ye for bitter woman.”
The lady sat back hard enough that Niall feared she’d knock her head into the seat.
“Niall, how dare ye speak to me this way?” Tears gathered in her eyes and he felt instantly guilty.
“I do apologize for offending ye, but I canna allow the clan to falter, nor my wife to be abused at your whim. I love ye, lady mother, but ye have to know that holding on to whatever anger or grudge ye have seems ridiculous.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, swallowing hard as she glanced up at him.
“Please, convince Da to let us do what needs to be done, else we will take that choice from his hands.”
Their mother stood, and for the first time, he noticed how stooped her shoulders were, how tiny she’d become as her body grew older. The last year had not been good for her.
Niall pulled her into his embrace, and though she resisted, he hugged her still and then kissed her cheek.
“For the clan, Mama.”
Without answering, she turned away from her sons and walked back toward the stairs. She stopped at the foot of them and said without looking back, “I will speak to him…for the clan.”
Chapter 17
Over the next two days, Niall and his men scoured the surrounding area for any signs of MacGregor, his men, or possibly another culprit, but they continuously turned up empty. Bella waited each night for him to come to their chamber, but each time fell asleep before he arrived. When she woke in the morning, he was gone, but she had a sense of him having slept beside her, and his woodsy scent lingered on the indentation on his pillow. The man was almost like a phantom in the castle. One she could feel and was aware of but rarely saw.
By the fourth day, Niall and Walter could wait no longer to comply with the king’s summons. She’d been waiting anxiously for this moment and hoping there might be another message from the king saying they were no longer needed. But such a message never arrived. An anxious knot formed in her belly, for Niall and Walter to journey to Arbroath meant possible danger, and her father had always told her there was a risk any time there was a gathering of lairds, chiefs and the king in one place. On more than on occasion, an enemy had struck out then, causing maximum damage. It also meant that those at home were in more danger, because their castles were left without their leaders.
Of course, Bella was not unused to this. Her father was often away on clan or royal business. Their mother had defended the castle more than once against invaders. And Bella would do the same. That didn’t mean she dreaded him leaving any less.
A messenger had left days ago with the reply that Niall and Walter would be there, and if he put it off any longer, he was in danger of angering the king. So he made arrangements with Philip to make daily searches of the surrounding lands and to keep all the men on high alert. All of this she’d overheard when she listened in on various conversations, as her husband had told her none of it outright.
“Be safe,” she said, trying to hold a smile on her face, though she didn’t feel at all jovial.
“I will. And ye, be safe here. Dinna practice your shooting without an escort. And if ye can, please, dinna practice at all until I get back.”
Bella nodded, surprised that he was even giving her the choice. Niall could very well have told her she must remain within the walls, which her fat
her had done many times when he left.
“I mean it. Use caution and never go alone.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I’d forbid ye from leaving the castle, but I know ye too well.”
“Aye, it would seem ye do.” She grinned up at him, this time the smile going all the way to her eyes. “I am going to miss ye.”
“I will miss ye, too. But I shan’t be gone more than a sennight, ’haps a little less.”
“Can I not come?”
“Nay, love, not this time. If we were going to court, aye, but from what I gather, ’tis a secret meeting, and I couldna put ye in danger. Your da will be there, and if he sees ye, he’ll likely take my head for putting ye in danger.”
“This is true.” And with those words, he’d all but told her that joining the leaders at Arbroath was a dangerous mission. Her mind whirled with all the terrible possibilities, but she forced herself to put on a brave front for Niall. “Well, then ye must be sure to come back to me. I’ll have a surprise for ye when ye return.”
“A surprise?” He winged a brow and eyed her skeptically. “I dinna think I like surprises.”
She shrugged. “Well, ye’ll have to pretend then.”
Niall pulled her against him and kissed her tenderly, the touch of his lips warm and fleeting. “I will come back then, if only to appease my curiosity.”
“Aye, come back.”
She wanted to tell him more, to tell him that if he didn’t return to her she’d be devastated, that she’d gotten used to the feel of his warmth beside her at night and tripping over his boots in the dark when she searched out the chamber pot in the middle of the night, though she could have done without that, it wouldn’t be the same in any case. She liked his smile, the teasing glint in his eyes when she caught him watching her, the sound of his laugh and the taste of his lips. To think that just a month before, she’d been certain never to marry and would have missed out on all of these things.
Bella watched Niall, Walter and a few of their warriors leave from the bailey to head to Arbroath and then made the climb to her chamber to watch them disappear from the window, the same routine she’d had since Niall started his daily searches in the surrounding lands. Afterward, she made her way down to the kitchens, where she’d made friends with Cook, who allowed her to help with meal preparation. The staff of the castle had warmed to her, and the few times she’d seen Niall’s mother, the woman hadn’t glowered at her. Instead, she’d made a smile that looked half like a grimace. But it was something, and she’d take it.
Soon enough, she’d find her place and settle completely.
After showing Cook how to prepare her mother’s famous mushroom tarts, which would be served at the nooning, she went out to the fletcher’s workshop to work on Niall’s surprise.
“Have ye got what I asked for?” She smiled wide, folded her hands in front of her and rocked onto her tiptoes with glee. “I am excited to see it.”
“Aye, my lady.”
The fletcher pulled a wool blanket off of a back table to reveal the special bow she’d had commissioned for Niall. He’d been with the family for years and had made Niall several bows before his accident so knew the specifications for his height and arm length. Though this bow had special modifications that Bella had created after spending hours with her arm tied behind her back and seeing just how she could use a bow that way. She prayed her design would work. If it didn’t, she’d just try again.
“He’ll have a time of it training to shoot from the opposite side, given he was used to holding the bow with his left arm. With the mechanism ye requested, however, I think he will get the hang of it. I tried it myself, and it works.” The man’s smile was genuine, and there was hope and pride in his eyes.
“That is my fervent hope. Sir Niall and I met during an archery competition when we were children.”
“So I heard.”
“May I?” She stepped farther into the fletcher’s shop and reached for the special bow.
“Aye, my lady.”
She took the bow and smoothed her hands along the arched face to the tip. This was the first place where Niall’s bow differed from others. Rather than only the bowstring connected at the notch, there was another long, finger-length thick leather loop. This attachment would be looped around Niall’s left shoulder, to help him anchor the bow against his body, essentially acting as an extra support. In the center of the bowstring was a thick braided rope, about an inch wide and two inches long, which he would bite to pull the string back in place of his missing fingers. At the center of the cording was where the arrow would be nocked.
“Ye said ye tried it?” she asked.
“Aye. Works just like ye thought it might, my lady,” the fletcher beamed.
“Mind if I give it a try?”
“Please.” He motioned for her to follow him behind his workshop where a makeshift target area had been set up.
“Thank ye.”
At first, she looped it over her shoulder, tightened the strap to fit her frame, and held her left arm behind her back. But nocking the arrow like that was too difficult. So instead, she held the bow between her knees, nocked the arrow, slipped the loop over her shoulder. Using her right arm, she held the bow up, steadying it, then let her elbow relax so she could bite the cord. Teeth clamped on to the corded rope, she tugged with all her might, finding it a lot harder to pull the string back with her teeth than she would have expected, but she eventually got it and locked her arm. Holding on to the rope with her teeth was uncomfortable, but not impossible. She lined up her sight, and let it go.
The arrow flew through the air and hit the target, but several inches to the right and up a few.
Bella laughed. “It works! I didna hit my target, but with practice, I could.”
“Aye, my lady. Took me a few hours to get close to the center, and still I’d need more time practicing to get it perfect. Ye designed a good bow, my lady. But ye and Niall shall have an easier time of it as your skill surpasses mine.”
“Not by much I imagine.” She grinned. “Ye didna become a fletcher because ye canna shoot.”
“True.” His cheeks reddened.
“May I take it now?”
“Well, there was one more thing I wanted to run by ye.”
“Aye?”
“I had thought it might be a nice touch to carve his name into the wood. I used to do that when he was a lad, but I didna want to overstep if ye wished it to be plain.”
Bella handed him back the bow. “Please do. And also your brand. Ye must have a brand, so anyone who sees it will know ye’re the one who made it.”
“Aye, my lady. And what of ye, shall I carve something special on it from ye?”
Immediately, an idea came to her, and she suppressed a giggle as her heart soared. “Aye.” She leaned closer and whispered to Fletcher what she wanted him to carve. “But do so on the inside, so it’s not so visible to anyone taking a look.”
“Aye, my lady.”
The day might have started off in a somber way, but it was quickly looking up. Bella couldn’t wait for Niall to see what she and the fletcher had created and to see him try it. No longer would he have to simply watch her when she was practicing with her bow. He could join in. They could compete once more. She could show him that being without a limb did not mean he could shoot.
The following days passed the same way, with her going about the duties she’d slowly started to acquire since being at the castle. Bella was starting to get into a routine, and though she missed her family, writing letters to them in the evenings helped while away the time. Mary was also good company, and they penned back and forth, Mary telling her all about Philip and how he’d stolen a kiss the day before in the gardens.
She’d also been visiting the fletcher’s workshop and practicing with Niall’s bow. She wanted to be able to show him it could be done, and with precision, which meant she needed to practice with it—she had not used her own set in as many days, which was just as well, si
nce she didn’t want to worry Philip and the men by having them escort her outside the walls.
But it had been many days since Niall had left, and the scouts had not seen any sign of the MacGregors. It was likely that the vile laird had moved on from his vendetta, or in the very least, he wasn’t going to strike when Niall wasn’t here, as his intention was to hurt her husband.
“Mary, will ye tell Philip I wish to go to the river today to practice my archery.”
Mary nodded, departing after she’d brought Bella some porridge to break her fast. The cook had started to make it the way she liked it—with milk, cinnamon and a tab of butter in the center. It was divine, just like home.
By the time she finished and made it down to the bailey with her things, Philip was already giving precautionary instructions to the men.
“Should we go another day?” Bella asked, chewing her lip.
“Nay, my lady, all is safe. The scouts returned this morning to report that all was clear. But it doesna hurt for the men to be prepared.”
“All right. We will not stay out long.”
They made their way through the back gardens, barren in the winter, through the gate that creaked with the cold and echoed across the snow-covered fields where the men were at work training. They bowed as she passed, and she offered them all cheerful greetings. Though it was cold still, the sun was out today, which always brought out the best in her moods.
“Where shall I set this up, my lady?”
“Just there is fine.” She pointed between two trees and then backed up fifty paces.
After he set up the target, Philip stood off to the side to watch, and Mary sat on a log with a blanket wrapped around her.
“Are ye not going to shoot?” she asked Philip, knowing Mary wouldn’t. The lass had tried a few times with her, and each time, the arrow had somehow backfired into her poor forehead.
“Nay, my lady, not today.”
She nocked her arrow and lined up her sight, but every time she was about to let it go, she felt their eyes on her.
“This is very odd. I’ve practiced with an audience before, but I feel…different today.”
