by Katy Baker
“If that was a sword ye’d be dead, Arron. Ye are out.”
The man nodded sheepishly and left the circle. The remaining attackers looked at each other as if the deciding who would go first. Harris took advantage of this and launched into an attack. He kicked the legs out from beneath one man who crashed into the dirt with a bellow of outrage, then spun like lightning and cracked his staff across the hamstrings of another, sending him crumpling to his knees with a yelp.
"If ye face more than one opponent," Harris said. "Ye have to take advantage of their confusion. My old mentor, Ewan Murray, used to say that ye have two choices. Attack immediately and hope to take them by surprise, or wait and take advantage of their uncertainty when working together." He gestured to the two remaining men. "Now, see if ye can work together to best me."
The men still standing were big and heavily muscled, almost as big as Harris himself. One of them, Lucy realized, was Donal, the captain of the guard. Aniss, Lucy noticed, was watching with wide eyes, one hand pressed to her chest.
"He canna be in two places at once,” Donal said to the other man. “Ye take the rear, I'll take the front. Ye—”
He didn't get to finish the sentence. Harris darted forward and Donal raised his staff in defense. But Harris's attack wasn’t aimed at Donal. At the last instant he veered to the left and cracked the second man with a heavy blow across the thighs. The man grunted and doubled over, his staff falling from his grip. Donal rushed in, seeing his chance, aiming his staff at the back of Harris's head.
Lucy tensed but Harris dodged under the blow and dropped to the ground, kicking Donal's feet out from under him.
Harris stood and glared around at his opponents. Most of them were groaning and cradling their bruises. Harris frowned at them all. Then he pointed at the one he'd smacked across the temple.
"Ian, why did that attack fail? Even though there were more of ye, why were ye not able to take me down?"
Ian fingered the lump on his head. "Because we didnae work together, laird. None of us was sure what the others would do.”
“Aye,” Harris said, nodding. "Ye weren't coordinated at all. If ye are to fight in formation in a battle, ye must react to each other in an instant. So we'll keep training until ye can work in unison in yer sleep. Now go and get some ale."
The men walked off, leaving Harris standing alone. He glanced over and saw Lucy, Aniss and Jamie watching him. He stared for a moment before striding off across the practice ground.
"I'll be able to fight like that someday," Jamie announced. "Ye’ll see! I’ll be the champion of the islands!” His eyes shone with adoration. "The laird is a mighty fine warrior, dinna ye think, Lady Lucy?"
"Yes," Lucy murmured, staring after Harris. "I suppose he is."
After a tour of the grounds they returned to the hall where Mona was overseeing the arrangements for Laird Garrick's visit tomorrow. An army of servants moved around the Great Hall, carrying bed linen up to the guest rooms, polishing cutlery and crockery and dusting the corners of the cavernous room. A large banner in the colors of Clan Harris had been pinned above the main table and in one corner a group of people who looked to have just arrived were setting down leather cases and talking amongst themselves.
Mona turned as Aniss, Lucy, and Jamie approached. "There ye are! Did ye enjoy yer tour, my dear?"
"I did," Lucy replied, squeezing Jamie's shoulder and smiling at Aniss. "These two are great guides. I feel like I know the place inside out now!"
Mona raised an eyebrow and eyed young Jamie "And I hope he didnae make ye go crabbing?"
"No," Lucy laughed. "We'll save that for another day, eh, Jamie?"
Jamie nodded then pointed at the group of people in the corner. "Who are they, Mona?”
"Do ye not know it's rude to point, my lad?" Mona scolded, pushing Jamie's arm back down to his side. "They’re the musicians the laird has hired for Garrick's visit tomorrow. Although why he wants to go to such expense is beyond me! What have the Garrick's ever done for us? They’re naught but a bunch of troublemakers if ye ask me!”
At the mention of musicians Lucy's ears pricked up. The leather cases, she realized, must contain their instruments. The musicians, four men of varying ages, seated themselves at a table and carefully took out the instruments. Some of them resembled guitars and others looked like a small, primitive harp.
Lucy walked over to the men. The musicians looked up as she approached and gave her a nod of respect.
"My lady," one of them said. "How may we be of service?"
"What kind of instruments are these?" Lucy asked pointing at the guitar-like things. Their bodies were deeper than that of a guitar and more curved with a longer, thinner neck.
"This is a lute," the musician replied, "and those there are lyres. We have flutes too if ye prefer wind music—”
“No, whatever you’ve planned will be fine, I’m sure. Could you...could you show me how they work? I’ve never had the pleasure of playing one of those before.”
"I'd be delighted, my lady," the musician said. He introduced himself as Samuel. Lucy sat next to him and he passed her the instrument. He instructed her how to hold it and she discovered that it was similar to a classical guitar. It felt good to hold an instrument again and, as always, Lucy began to relax.
"Lucy?" Mona asked, watching her with her head cocked, a quizzical expression on her face. “What are ye up to?”
Aniss laughed lightly. "She did tell us she's a musician, remember? Come on then, Lucy, let's hear ye play!"
Lucy glanced at her friend and smiled at her enthusiasm. Jamie slipped into a seat next to one of the other musicians and was peering closely at the lyre the man was holding. The man, busy tuning it, did his best to ignore Jamie's scrutiny.
"Ye play like this," Samuel instructed Lucy.
She followed his instructions attentively and her fingers seemed to move of their own accord, soon striking up a tune from the instrument. Samuel sat back, eyebrows rising in astonishment.
“Ye are a natural, my lady.”
"Not really," Lucy replied. "I've been playing for almost twenty years, ever since I was old enough to hold an instrument. This isn't that dissimilar to playing the guitar although it sounds quite different."
She pursed her lips in concentration and experimentally plucked a few chords, trying to get a feel for the instrument. She had a well-trained ear and it took only a few minutes before she got to grips with how to play different notes. She struck up a tune, one of her own compositions.
Around her, people stopped what they were doing and turned to listen. Lucy barely noticed. The music seemed to carry her away and her thoughts ceased, her worries evaporated, there was only the music and her fingers playing over the strings of the instrument.
“Well, I’ll be!” Samuel said. "I've never heard the like! Alec, let's see if we can add a little accompaniment!"
The other musicians picked up the instruments and joined in. They were all obviously masters of their trade. They listened for a few moments, gaging the tune, pitch, and key that Lucy was playing and then set to with a vengeance. They played in harmony with Lucy, the instruments following her lead and yet forming a beautiful counterpoint to her tune.
Lucy laughed and found her foot tapping along to the tune. The musicians broke into song. It was a jaunty one that fit perfectly with the tune they were playing and Samuel introduced it as Auld Sweet Rosie. The servants gathered round, clapping along or tapping their feet to the melody. Lucy grinned at the musicians and they smiled back, everyone swept along in the joy of this impromptu concert.
Then the door slammed open. Glancing up, the musicians’ faces paled and they stopped playing. Lucy was the last to realize what was happening. As the others fell silent she looked around, her fingers faltering on the lute.
Andrew Harris stood by the door with a face like thunder. His eyes swept the room. “Dinna ye have work to do?” he growled at the servants.
They scuttled away in fright, hurriedly
resuming their tasks.
“My laird, the musicians ye sent for have arrived,” Mona said.
"I can see that."
He strode over to the quartet. They hastily rose and gave him a bow. Samuel cleared his throat.
“Samuel MacGregor at yer service, Laird Harris," he said. "My boys and I hope ye will be mighty pleased with our performance tomorrow."
Harris didn't reply. His gaze raked over them and came to rest on Lucy. She stared back defiantly. He opened his mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it.
Instead he inclined his head to Samuel MacGregor. "Mona will see to yer accommodations.”
As he strode towards the stairs Jamie jumped up and ran after him.
“Laird! Did ye hear Lady Lucy play?”
Lucy cringed inwardly. She half rose from her seat to go to Jamie's defense, expecting a barrage of anger from the laird at the young lad. But to Lucy's surprise, Harris didn't object as Jamie grabbed one of his big hands and clung to it.
“Aye, lad,” he said softly. "I heard her."
“She’s good isnae she?” Jamie continued. "I reckon she ought to play at the summer fair, dinna ye reckon? She’d beat everyone in the contests!"
"Well, that's a ways off yet, lad. Ye'd do better to concentrate on yer studies rather than daydreaming."
Jamie’s face folded into a pout. "Everyone says that."
"And everyone is right," Harris said with a smile. He extricated his hand from Jamie's and ruffled the lad’s hair. "And take that pout off yer face, lad. If the wind changes, it'll stay like that."
Then, without another word, he bounded up the stairs.
Lucy stared after him, confused. She’d expected him to be annoyed at being pestered by a child, but he’d seemed tolerant, gentle, even. She shook her head. Harris was an enigma. One she couldn't work out.
"What was that all about?" she asked Aniss.
Aniss shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable. "Jamie is an orphan and the laird stipulated that he be housed here in the castle and he provides for him personally. I think he feels responsible for the boy after what happened." Aniss's eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth.
“After what happened?" Lucy asked.
But Aniss shook her head. "Nothing! Forget I spoke. Come on, let's go and see what we can rustle up for lunch. Edith is making plum pastries today. My favorite!"
AFTER LUNCH LUCY SPENT the afternoon down on the beach with Jamie and Aniss. Many of the village children were down there and she and her new friend sat on the rocks and watched them playing games of chase, getting thoroughly wet and dirty. She went to bed that night feeling tired but much more comfortable in this place than she had when she arrived.
Sometime later she woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. Irene MacAskill’s voice echoed in her mind. Ye just might be able to save a life. And in the process ye will find yer own path to happiness. Had she been dreaming about Irene? Was that what had woken her?
It was dark but for the slivers of moonlight falling through her window. Somewhere outside an owl hooted. Lucy threw back the covers and padded to the window. As she gazed down at the courtyard Andrew Harris appeared below, just as he had last night.
Ye might be able to save a life.
Lucy tensed as she watched him cross the bailey and climb the steps to the battlements. As before, he paused at the top, looking out over the ocean before padding along the battlements into the shadows at its far end.
What is he doing? Lucy wondered. And why am I watching him?
She climbed back into bed and tried to force thoughts of the handsome, bad tempered, enigmatic man from her mind.
But it was easier said than done.
Chapter 10
THE LAST THING ANDREW wanted was to entertain Laird Callum Garrick. Yet Dun Arnwick guarded the road that led to the ferry crossing so that when anyone of nobility wanted to travel to the mainland, courtesy demanded that he offer them hospitality.
Hospitality could go to hell, as far as Andrew was concerned, but Mona and Dougie would not hear of it, citing the reputation of the Harris clan as a reason to honor the old traditions.
So he waited with ill grace and little patience in front of the gates as Laird Garrick and his entourage made their way up the trail towards the castle. Captain Donal stood to one side of him, Dougie and Mona on the other. They wore their finest clothing and all of his guardsmen, waiting in a semicircle behind Andrew, had their weapons polished and wore their best Harris colors.
The household had gathered in the courtyard behind. Andrew glanced that way to see Lucy standing with Aniss. She met his gaze for a moment before pointedly looking away, raising her chin. Andrew frowned to himself. What was he to do about the lass? She'd proven wilful, stubborn, and disobedient. Her performance with the musicians yesterday had been staged to irk him, no doubt.
Yet he had to admit, he had been mighty impressed by her skill.
His mother had been a fine musician. In days gone by many an evening had been spent in the Great Hall, listening to her play and singing along with his brothers as she entertained the clan with one of her own compositions.
Andrew tore his gaze away from Lucy and concentrated on the approaching party. Laird Callum Garrick rode up on a fine white stallion. He let the horse prance a little, showing off his expert horsemanship before flamboyantly kicking his leg over the saddle and jumping to the ground. He flipped the reins to a servant and strode forward.
“Andrew Harris! Well met!” he cried. He offered his hand and Andrew reluctantly gripped it in a warrior’s handshake, the recognition of the meeting of two equals.
“Well met, Laird Garrick,” Andrew said, forcing his voice to sound welcoming. "Welcome to Dun Arnwick."
Callum Garrick was a couple of years older than Andrew himself and they had known each other since childhood. Their fathers had been great friends and they'd hoped that their sons would follow in the same tradition. They hadn't. Andrew had never liked Callum and the feeling was mutual. When they were children Callum had been petty and spiteful, often cruel to his servants and eager to get people into trouble. Now that he was laird he had a reputation for being a womanizer, despite his recent marriage, and prone to drinking and gambling too much.
Callum smiled at Andrew. "Might I introduce ye to my wife, laird?” He turned to a woman seated on a fine looking palfrey. She was pale skinned and pale haired, the daughter of one of the mainland lords who had bargained her in marriage to strengthen ties with the Garrick clan.
Andrew placed an arm across his chest and bowed. "Welcome to Dun Arnwick, my lady."
Lady Garrick gave a wan smile. “My thanks, laird.”
Andrew turned and gestured for Garrick to accompany him inside. Mona clapped her hands which sent the household scurrying into motion. The stable hands took the visitor’s horses whilst the house and kitchen staff ran ahead to begin the feast. As they walked through the bailey and up the stairs into the Great Hall, Garrick kept up a flow of incessant chatter, as though the two of them were best friends.
Andrew didn't give a fig about the stag Garrick had shot last week, or the trade deal he was brokering with an English wool merchant, but for appearance’s sake he nodded in all the right places and asked a few perfunctory questions.
Inside the Great Hall, the musicians were already playing. It seemed strange to have music in the hall again. Yesterday it had echoed to the sound of enjoyment for the first time in years. Lucy, he saw, glanced wistfully at the musicians as she walked by.
"So," Garrick said when they were seated at the head table together, his wife on Andrew's other side. "What's this I hear about ye having problems with some horse rustling?"
Garrick's smile was slightly mocking and Andrew curled his hands into fists. Dougie answered before Andrew could say something sharp.
"Aye, laird. Just a few days ago from the Marshall's croft.”
“And ye’ve not found the culprit by now?”
“Nay,” An
drew replied. “But I will.”
“Ye’ve interrogated the peasants I take it?”
“I'm not in the habit of accusing my tenants without evidence."
Garrick snorted and took a swig of ale. "And that's yer mistake. Peasants are a greedy lot, always out for what they can get. Ye mark my words, I'll bet some of them are involved in it. Perhaps if ye whip a few of them they might be a bit more willing to share what they know."
Andrew's hand tightened on his cup. He itched to punch the smug bastard in the face. Instead, he said with as much self-control as he could muster, "The last time I looked it was I who was the laird of the Harris clan, Callum Garrick. I will deal with my ‘peasants’ how I see fit."
Garrick grinned, conceding the point. "As ye say." He leaned back in his chair and looked over the room. “Who’s that?" he asked, pointing at Lucy. "I dinna think I’ve seen her here before.”
Andrew tensed. He didn't like the look in Garrick's eyes as he watched Lucy. She was deep in conversation with Aniss and hadn't noticed his gaze. "She's a visitor," Andrew growled. "A noble lady just passing through." He didn't tell Garrick that Lucy was in effect his prisoner. Garrick didn’t need to know that.
"Is she now?" Garrick said, raising an eyebrow. "If ye have any sense, ye'll persuade her to stay a bit longer, Harris. My, she's easy on the eye isnae she? And I bet she's even easier between the sheets!"
He barked a laugh and downed the rest of his ale. Garrick's wife flushed, with embarrassment or shame, Andrew couldn't tell. Fury welled inside Andrew. In a low voice, so nobody else could hear he said, "Ye will not talk about the Lady Jennings like that. If I hear such things leave yer lips again, I will kick yer sorry arse over the cliff."
Garrick grinned at him. “Is that so? Ye don't have the balls, Harris."
"Try me," Andrew said softly.
Dougie coughed. "Now, my lords, I dinna think there's any need—”
He was interrupted by a sudden commotion at the far side of the hall. Guests scooted away from two figures kicking and punching at each other in a heap on the floor. Andrew recognized Jamie. He and another lad were screeching like wildcats and rolling around like a couple of street urchins.
