Chapter 24
Darragh ran his hand through the brittle mane of his mare.
She neighed and pushed her head into his palm. She had missed him. It had been only two days since they had last seen each other, but she was an overly sentimental animal.
She nudged her nose into him, and he stumbled backwards with a laugh. Her head hung over her stall, and her gaze was fixed on the basket of apples that sat on the hay bale.
“Is this what ye want?” He picked one up but held it far from her. He liked the way she showed her appreciation.
She made a deliberate reverse, aware her size required mass, then cantered in circles in her stall, whining loudly.
She did not eat until it was split in two halves.
Until then, she galloped around as if communicating the urgency.
He conceded and retrieved a knife from his boot. She strutted to him.
His heart swelled with pride when she threw taut, muscled legs into the air. She was brimming with energy that morning.
Darragh had felt guilty on the way to her. Willow was one of twelve horses in the stables, which were all rented out for different functions. She was a thoroughbred, good for hunting and farm work, but she was also his pet.
It was an unlikely thing for a laird to rent out his horse, bordering on shameful. But when money was tight, one had to do everything to survive.
She took the second half of the apple into her mouth.
Farmer Hendry had returned home last night after helping with ploughing the barley fields, and Darragh feared he would find her too tired.
Once he received his inheritance, he would no longer have to rent her out.
He could even restore the lushness of her mane and darken the spots bleached gold by sun rays.
The stable boy, Angus, came in, his face freshly washed, throwing on a creased, over-worn shirt. Darragh had woken him earlier.
It was only half past six, and the rest of the castle residents, except the sentries standing guard, were asleep. Imagine Angus’s surprise when he found the Laird at his door. His expression had quickly turned from annoyance, which portended an angry spiel, to reverence.
He picked up the basket and waited for instructions.
Darragh removed the bolt from Willow’s gate and pulled it open. “If she comes out on her own,” he said, “saddle her up and send her to Daisy’s shack.”
Daisy was his Connemara. By leaving the gate open, he intended to give Willow the choice to ride with him or not.
She was his horse because she was the most loyal and obedient.
If he were to insinuate riding her, she would not protest, no matter how tired she was.
He was not sure whether or not she was well enough for exercise and didn’t want to risk it.
Daisy roomed separately from the others in a stall outside.
His boots parted the morning mist, sending a cold, dewy smell to his nostrils. He was in an impeccably good mood that morning. One, he would climb into bed with Talia after. Two, he was getting married to her in a few days. Three… Talia was his.
To his left was an empty barn. He anticipated Daisy’s one-year-old sister would take abode if she grew up to be a brat like her. At the moment, the foal was rooming with the fifteen-year-old gelding that had developed a paternal adoration for her.
The stables were structured in a Y layout.
The tail was six stalls long, with a watering trough at the back on the occasion when the weather was not conducive for the horses to hydrate in the stream.
Two short tunnels, wide enough to transport two horses at a time, made up the V.
At the center of the stables was a circular cobblestone floor where the horses enjoyed making their shoes spark.
Daisy rose when she saw him, the movement slow and deliberate. What a seductress she was. Her riders did not stand a chance against her charms.
“Have ye missed me?”
Her locks emitted a strong lavender scent, which now clung to his hand. She did not make satisfactory whinnies like other horses. Instead, had she taught herself to purr. Her nose nestled into his palm, and he knew that she was only smelling the oils from her hair.
Daisy was a school horse. For the past month, she had been in town, where she seemed to find herself for months at a time, which was all a result of the master plan.
It was never his intention for her to become a school horse.
She was young, only five years old, sturdy, calm-headed, and obedient.
But that obedience went out the door when it was time for heavy labor.
She also did not enjoy hunting, nor was she conditioned for it.
The only recourse for a horse with her temperament was teaching.
He realized instantly that she had planned it from the start when she was brought to her first client, a seventeen-year-old heiress sojourning in Scotland, and she had performed so majestically.
She had crafted a persona that made her attractive to ladies who wanted to learn how to ride.
“Did ye hear?”
She took the apple from him. Like Willow, she preferred her fruit cut.
“I am getting married. Me wife’s even more beautiful than ye.”
It has been years since he heard her neigh. Her mane flapped about as she tossed her head in protest and backed away, registering the jab.
“I didnae mean that.” He extended a slice of apple, stifling a laugh. But that did not tempt her to forgive the insult. Slowly, she approached him. “Would ye like to meet her?”
He has had the idea since she returned. He wanted to include Talia in every aspect of his life.
The clan, its restoration, its growth. Even the leisure aspect, like horse riding and hunting.
Talia did not have any experience riding horses, and Daisy would be the perfect horse to teach her. Darragh trusted her.
A cacophony of neighs carried to him through the passage, which he deduced to be excitement over the treats. He resolved that when her sister was older, he would gift her to Talia.
Just then, he heard a yell. Daisy was also stunned by it. Just as he turned, a flash of heat whizzed past his head and landed in the thatch padding Daisy’s stall. Suddenly, it caught fire.
Daisy neighed frenetically as the fire climbed the wooden pillar and lit the roof. Quickly, Darragh unlatched the door. She was easy to calm down. He led her outside, grabbing a bucket with the intention of scooping water from the trough before the flames spread to the main stables.
Daisy bolted into the clearing, and outside, he saw something he hadn’t expected. White smoke was coming out of the main stables and… What was that pounding?
He needed Angus’s help. The fire had covered the roof, and the wind was the only deterrent, blowing it away from the mass. He yelled the boy’s name, but as he was about to burst into the stables, a horse rushed past him, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
That was too quick; the fire couldn’t have spread so fast. His suspicion was proved right when he hurried in to find smoke rising to his left.
“Me Laird!”
Another horse bolted past him. The banging was Willow attempting to free the horses. The back of the stables was on fire; flames rose from floor to ceiling like a furnace. He found the source of the voice.
Angus was pinned to the ground by an arrow to his thigh. “I daenae ken what happened. I saw the fire and tried to put it out when I felt an arrow stab me in the leg.”
He was drenched head to toe; he must have fallen into the trough from the shock. A trail of wet ground led to the tipped trough, empty and burning.
This was bigger than both of them now. The last two stalls closer to the flames were empty. Willow had freed them both. She was now banging on the next gate. The other horse trotted frenetically, throwing their weight around against the walls, but they did not have the common sense to escape.
“Come on.” Darragh heaved Angus onto his back. He unhooked latches as he moved.
Outside, five horses ran about, Daisy among them. Darragh whistled for her. She lifted her head. When she saw him, she galloped over.
“Get to the keep and alert the sentries.”
He dropped Angus to his feet; he could barely hold himself up. It would be difficult to ride her with the arrow poking out of the boy’s thigh. Darragh could not pull it out unless he wanted the man to bleed out, so he hoisted him onto Daisy’s back.
“To the keep,” he commanded, and she bolted away.
The left V was completely enveloped; the wind could not help now that the flames traveled through the passage. The wood darkened, and fire licked up the door, still tempered by a soft breeze.
The moment he bolted in, a horse collided into him with the force of a sledgehammer. He was slammed into the ground and winded instantly. It was only his luck that the horse did not trample over him as it made a hasty escape.
Pain shot from his spine and settled at the base of his skull. The hissing flames and loud neighs turned into muted buzzing… until it wasn’t.
It was loud and chaotic, and his ears worked overtime, picking up the sound of the grass swaying around him. He shook his head to clear it and pushed to his feet. He stumbled, but at least he was standing.
The front was completely engulfed in fire. Even if Willow managed to free all the horses, they would never willingly go through it. Through a gap over the flames, he saw a horse come to a halt. Hesitantly, it backed away, its eyes wide with horror.
The right stall! The other V was completely untouched. When the horse saw him burst through, it followed him.
“Willow!”
The smoke was thick and blinding. Darragh shielded his face with his hand, but the smoke crawled over and under, causing his eyes to burn. “Willow, get out now!”
The pounding did not cease. Another horse ran past him, its back charred. He felt for him.
Trying to wrestle Willow out of this chaos was futile. She had the spirit of a leader and would never leave him or any other horse behind. The best he could do was help her.