Highland Gladiator

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He was standing near the door, brushing the water from his tunic, which was wool and wasn’t absorbing the water as much. Feeling her heart race at the sight of him, she took a few steps in his direction.

  “So now ye know the entire village and they know ye,” she said. “I think it has been a busy day for ye.”

  Lor looked up from the tunic, and Isabail could see the warmth in his eyes. “Busy enough,” he said. “And enough tae see that the boundaries of the village are not as wide as I had always believed. We had an interesting walk today.”

  “Did ye walk the perimeter?”

  “We did.”

  “Did ye walk the burns and the vales?”

  “Some.”

  She pointed toward the west. “The Vale of Morning runs between Auchnacree and Careston, as ye know, but it wasna something our village claimed. It always belonged tae Careston.”

  He grinned. “Ye mean the Vale of Demons?”

  Isabail put a finger to her lips to shush him. “Do ye mean tae cause me trouble?” she whispered.

  “Ye still havena told him, eh?”

  Isabail shook her head, unwilling to entertain that line of conversation, so she continued with their previous subject. “And Teygret Wood is tae the north,” she said, raising her voice. “Ye know that it stretches all the way intae Lindsay lands, but it also—”

  Niall, still at the hearth, interrupted her. “Teygret is where the Lindsay wait for us,” he said, turning to look at Lor and Isabail. “We spoke tae yer uncle today, Issie. The Lindsay harassment has grown worse in our absence. It seems that we’ve returned just in time.”

  Isabail’s brow furrowed. “In time for what?”

  Niall sighed heavily and planted himself on the nearest stool. “Tae protect our lands, our village,” he said. “Tae protect our very lives.”

  As Isabail sobered at the realization, Lor was listening carefully. In fact, he’d done nothing but listen all day. He’d listened to the villagers of Auchnacree speak on their fears, on the brutality of the Lindsay, and he even heard some speak of leaving Auchnacree for a bigger village or city that wasn’t on the verge of destruction.

  He’d listened to it all.

  But what he hadn’t heard were solutions. Lots of problems, but no solutions. Lor knew that he was here to help Auchnacree, but Niall seemed to think that Lor was the solution. Even now, as he faced Isabail and her family, Lor had the feeling that they were all looking to him as their one and only chance for survival.

  And it was slightly worrisome.

  “I know ye brought me here tae lead yer men, but from what I saw in the village today, ye dunna have many men tae lead,” he said after a moment. “Was that everyone?”

  Niall looked up at him, perhaps reluctantly. “Mostly,” he said. “Other than a few farmers outside of town, what ye saw today is all we have. At last count, it was two hundred and eleven men, women, and children in Auchnacree.”

  “How many men out of that number?”

  “Seventy-four.”

  Lor moved closer to the fire, pondering that rather dismal number. “Ye dinna tell me that before.”

  “Ye dinna ask.”

  “That is not a very big number, especially against the Lindsay. I know they have at least twice that number, if not more.”

  Niall seemed to appear less than confident for the first time since Lor had known him. “I know,” he said quietly. “Today ye saw the reality of what we’re facing. But each man will fight ’til the last. They’re a brave lot. That’s why we needed a skilled man tae lead them. Ye may not have experience, Lion, but ye have talent. We need what ye have.”

  Lor thought Isabail’s father sounded a little desperate, which was something that he had never conveyed before. Lor briefly wondered if Niall knew that the entire situation had been futile all along, that Auchnacree was doomed no matter what they did to prevent it, but he couldn’t believe that. The situation was dire; that was clear.

  But not futile.

  However, what Niall said was true—Lor didn’t have experience, only an overwhelming sense of self-preservation, which was how he’d survived the Ludus Caledonia. Still, he’d learned something there, and what he didn’t know, Isabail did. She had advised him quite ably at the Cal.

  He turned to her.

  “It seems tae me that an assault on the Lindsay wouldna be wise,” he said. “Kirkburn Castle has walls and an army. I know, for I have been there. It would be a wasted effort, and ye’d lose many men.”

  Isabail nodded as she came over to the fire, sinking to her knees before it. “That is very true,” she said. “Attacking Kirkburn would be foolish.”

  Lor hoped she was astute enough to realize that he was giving her an opportunity to state her opinion, perhaps even guide the direction of the defenses. Isabail had told him back at the Ludus Caledonia that she would help him, and now he was giving her the opportunity to give that help.

  “Then what would ye suggest?” he asked her plainly. “I can fight, but ye have more experience in this than I do. Do ye have any ideas, Isabail?”

  “Aye,” she said without hesitation. “I’ve spoken tae my da about them, but he dinna seem tae think they’re good ideas.”

  “Tell me. If I dunna think so, either, I’ll tell ye.”

  Isabail looked around to her father, her brothers. “I’ve told ye this before,” she said. “We know the Lindsay use the Vale of Morning tae travel tae our boundaries. They also come in through Teygret. If we put men there with arrows, we could keep them away.”

  “Or anger them,” Niall said. “Issie, if we kill a Lindsay, we’ll bring the whole clan down upon us.”

  “The whole clan is already down upon us, Da.”

  Lor could see how touchy the subject was. Isabail wanted to aggressively defend while Niall was afraid of retaliation. Before they could get into an argument about it, Lor held up a finger.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “It may not be much, but I’ll speak of it. I may not have experience in battle, but it seems logical that defending against the Lindsay isna enough. We’ll defend, they’ll continue harassment, and it will never end. That is no way tae live.”

  Niall and Isabail were listening. “Go on,” said Isabail.

  Lor did. “Ye told me that the Lindsay had gone tae Clan Murray for support,” he said. “Clan Murray denied them. If the Lindsay can ask for support, why not the Keith?”

  Niall shook his head. “We have allies, lad, but not close ones. No one that would want tae involve themselves.”

  But Lor shook his head. “I dunna speak of allies. I speak of enemies.”

  “Enemies?”

  “Aye. Lindsay enemies.” He looked between Isabail and her father. “There is an old saying which states that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Therefore, in the interest of filling out yer ranks, who is the enemy of the Lindsay?”

  Isabail looked to her father in surprise as Niall rubbed at his chin. “Ogilvy,” he said. “My wife was an Ogilvy.”

  “Then I say ye go tae Clan Ogilvy and ask for help,” Lor said. “I’ll go with ye and tell them how Drostan tried tae trick me after burning Careston. Between the two of us, we might be able tae convince them tae help.”

  It was an idea that made a good deal of sense. “I’m not sure why I dinna think of that,” Niall said. “I was thinking we had no allies tae support us. It never occurred tae me tae seek an enemy of the Lindsay.”

  “Ogilvy is tae the north of Kirkburn,” Lor said. “They are a big clan.”

  “With a thousand warriors,” Niall added. “It would be a clan war if they were involved, and I’m not sure they would risk such a thing.”

  “Ye can ask,” Lor said. “What is the worst they can do? They could send us home, and we’d be no worse off than we were before. Meanwhile, we can gather all the men in the village and
teach them a few things. How well do they know how tae fight?”

  Niall shrugged. “Well enough,” he said. “We’ve had a few rows with the Lindsay and with the Ruthven when they tried tae use our lands tae fight their wars with Clan Hay. Our men can defend themselves.”

  “Mayhap I could teach them what I learned at the Cal.”

  Niall liked that idea. In fact, he was feeling rather hopeful with Lor’s suggestions, simple as they were. But perhaps they’d needed an outsider to point out the obvious.

  “We’ll do that,” he said. “Isabail and Ewan and Ossian will spread the word. We can work with them tomorrow, and mayhap even a little training will help fortify their courage. It has been a long time since we’ve had cause tae hope.”

  It seemed like a plan.

  Thoughts of fighting and enemies were pushed aside, however, with the introduction of the meal. As Lor accepted his wooden bowl of the stew that was salty and hot, Isabail cut off big hunks of bread and doled them out.

  It was a satisfying meal as the rain outside pounded, but all the while, Lor kept looking over at Isabail. He was trying not to be obvious about it, but he couldn’t help it. She was sitting between her father and Ossian, but she was directly in his line of sight. He was fairly certain that was on purpose.

  The woman he couldn’t do without.

  When the meal was finished, Ewan took the bowls outside to wash out in the rain, and Isabail’s task was to see to the horses for the night. She’d been so busy staring at Lor that Niall had to remind her of it. There was a livery a short way down the hill where their horses were kept, including Lor’s, and Isabail reluctantly excused herself to see to her chores.

  Lor watched her go, or at least tried not to watch her go, fearful that the brothers or Niall might figure out that Isabail had his attention and he didn’t want the complication until he was ready to make his intentions clear.

  But thoughts of Isabail were soon pushed aside because Niall wanted to speak more on future plans for the defense of his village. Lor found himself engaged in that for the rest of the evening. Isabail eventually rejoined them and sat next to Lor, chiming in with advice now and then. Lor could feel her body heat, giving him comfort such as he’d never known.

  It was an evening of battle discussions and warfare, but it was also an evening of bonding with Niall and Ewan and Ossian. Men he would be related to, someday.

  And Lor couldn’t have been more at peace with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kirkburn Castle

  “Ye wanted an animal, Dros. I found one.”

  In Kirkburn’s great hall, Drostan found himself looking at a man who appeared to be more animal than human. Tall and bulky, and excessively hairy, he had the look of a barbarian, which pleased Drostan immensely.

  “Beautiful,” he said as he walked a slow circle around the man, inspecting him. “Absolutely beautiful. His name?”

  “The Beast.”

  “Brilliant!”

  Ternan watched Drostan delight over his new warrior as one would delight over a prized steed. But he was exhausted from his journey to the Ludus Caledonia and in no mood for Drostan’s joy. The last hour of their journey back to Kirkburn had been in a pounding rainstorm and he was soaked.

  “When I arrived at the Cal, the warrior ye see before ye was with some other men, training,” Ternan said with brittle patience. “I saw him as soon as I arrived, and I asked Sir Clegg about him. All I had tae do was see him dominate the other men in the arena and speak tae some of the trainers tae know he was the best warrior they had. I made an offer before the day was through, and Sir Clegg accepted.”

  Drostan stood in front of the massive man, his hands clasped with glee. “He’s perfect, Ternan,” he said. “Can ye imagine the Keith when this goes storming intae Auchnacree? They’ll run for the hills and never return.”

  Ternan knew that. It was why he’d bought the man’s fealty. Sitting heavily at the damaged feasting table, he sent a servant running for food and wine.

  “He eats like a horse and doesna speak much, but ye dunna need him tae speak,” he said. “Ye only need him tae obey orders. I brought him here, but ye can tell him what his purpose is.”

  Drostan was pleased to do so. He indicated for the Beast to sit at the feasting table and the man did, sitting so hard on the bench that he nearly flipped Ternan off of it. Drostan laughed as Ternan righted himself.

  “I’m greatly pleased,” Drostan said, addressing the Beast. “Tell me where ye come from.”

  The Beast gazed up at him with eyes that were a bit wild. He had a bushy, unkempt beard that matched the bushy, unkempt hair on his head. “Harlech,” he said thickly.

  Drostan’s eyes widened. “Ye’re Welsh?”

  “Aye.”

  Drostan seemed to think that was marvelous. He laughed triumphantly and clapped his hands together.

  “Splendid,” he said. “We have a Welsh beast tae do our bidding. Do ye have a name, Beast?”

  “Elis ap Aur.”

  He spoke as if he had stones in his mouth, making him difficult to understand. Drostan waved him off.

  “We’ll call ye the Beast,” he said, mostly because he didn’t want to sully his tongue with harsh Welsh names. “Ye know that ye’ve come tae serve me.”

  “Aye.”

  “Ye’ve come for a purpose. I have those on my land who do not belong. Ye are going tae chase them away so they will never return. That is yer only purpose, Beast, and I’ll reward ye well for it.”

  The Beast nodded. “I’ll not fail, m’lord.”

  Drostan’s smile faded. “I would not expect ye tae.” Then, he turned to Ternan. “We’ve sent out a few raiding parties since ye’ve been away, but ’tis only harassment.”

  The food arrived and Ternan was more interested in that than in Drostan. “What more will ye do?” he asked as he grabbed his knife.

  Drostan’s gaze lingered on the Beast. “We need tae send a strong message,” he said. “We’ve been going after the men as well as the women, but I think we need tae focus on the womenfolk. That will get the Keith’s attention.”

  Ternan looked up from buttering his bread. “Ye intend tae kill womenfolk? Dros, ye know that’ll not go well with yer allies if ye do that.”

  Drostan held up a hand to silence him. “Ye worry like an old brew wife,” he said. “I dunna intend tae kill any women. But we can harass a few.”

  Ternan sighed heavily. “If ye mean attack them like ye’ve done before, allies like Angus Murray will look down upon ye. He told me as much when I was there asking for his help. ’Tis one of the reasons he denied ye.”

  Drostan’s jaw twitched, unhappy that whatever he seemed to want was so looked down upon. He hated that his allies, or at least those he was supposed to be allied with, had some control over his actions.

  He wasn’t going to let them.

  “Send the Beast intae the Gleann Gadainn tomorrow,” he said. “There are always Keith women in the vale, foraging. Find as many as ye can and bring them back here.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “Hostages, of course. Then we’ll see how Niall Keith will honor our request tae leave our lands. That way, we’ll not be hurting their precious womenfolk and they’ll want tae keep it that way, especially when they see the Beast.”

  Ternan couldn’t dispute that. One look at the Beast and Niall Keith was sure to reconsider his stance. But that’s what they’d intended all along.

  He turned back to his food.

  “Let us hope so,” he said. “Ye’ve paid a good deal for the Beast not tae have him disappoint ye.”

  Drostan scrutinized his new warrior a few moments longer before pointing to the entry. “There’s a chamber just inside the door,” he told the man. “That belongs tae ye now. ’Tis a place of honor. Go there and wait for me.”

  T
he Beast did as he was told. Rising, he marched out of the hall, straight back and proud gait. Drostan watched him go before returning his attention to Ternan.

  “God’s bones, Ternan,” he muttered. “I told ye tae bring me a barbarian and ye did.”

  Ternan was well into his meal. “That I did, Dros. It took all the money I had.”

  “If he performs as we hope he will, it will have been worth it,” Drostan said. “Ye made it back from Edinburgh so quickly.”

  “Ye told me tae make haste and I did.”

  “Are ye sure he’s the best one?”

  “He is.” Ternan wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “One of the trainers told me that he’d been beaten only once by a warrior he called the Lion.”

  “The Lion?”

  “Aye—the Lion of Caledonia.”

  “And that warrior was not for sale?”

  Ternan shook his head. “Someone was smart enough tae make an offer for him already,” he said. “There was quite a crop of warriors and trainees. Novicius, they call them. In fact, I kept an eye out for Lor Careston among them, but I dinna see him. I wonder if he ever made it tae the Cal.”

  “Did ye ask?”

  “Nay.”

  Drostan shrugged, unconcerned with the life of a smithy from Careston. “It has been many months since Lor left us. ’Tis more than likely he was killed in the streets of Edinburgh. ’Twould be a blessing for us if he was.”

  “True.”

  Drostan didn’t waste any further time on the subject of Lor. His thoughts returned to the mountain of a man who now served him. Drostan took a seat at the old feasting table, his expression of satisfaction evident.

  “Tomorrow morning, the Beast will go intae the vale, and we’ll solve our problem once and for all,” he muttered. “Gather what women ye can find but leave some tae return tae Niall tae tell him what they saw. I want tae put the fear of God intae Niall with our new warrior. When he knows we have a barbarian, those lands are as good as ours.”

  Typical scheming when it came to Drostan, but this time Ternan thought he might actually be on to something. Only a madman would resist a warrior known as the Beast.