Chapter 16
Leah’s knock came before the morning light. Before Erica could answer, the maid slipped in as if the stone itself were still asleep. She sat on the edge of the bed and nudged Erica’s shoulder.
“Time to wake up, me Lady.”
Erica groaned and blinked. Her eyes then darted to the window. It was still pitch black outside. For a minute, she didn’t know whether to be worried or annoyed.
“Leah, it is barely morning.”
“Aye,” Leah said, calm as ever. “But I have drawn ye a bath. Ye will need it.”
Erica turned her head toward the window again. The sky was painted a deep blue, and a few stars still clung there. “Is it nae a bit early?”
Leah’s mouth tipped into a small smile. “Aye. But I am preparing ye for later.”
“For what?” Erica asked. Suspicion sharpened the sleep from her tone.
“Ye will see,” Leah said, already crossing to the washroom.
Left alone for a beat, Erica let out a breath and felt the night slip back in. The lake. The silvery path on the water. His voice in the dark.
Her throat worked around a swallow she pretended was only the cold.
Leah returned a few minutes later, just as sleep began to clear from Erica’s eyes. “The bath is ready.”
Erica pushed the blankets aside and stood up. The air bit her skin. She went to the tub and stepped in slowly until warmth enveloped her ankles, then her calves, then her hips.
Heat seeped into the tight places, and her breathing slowed. She washed quickly, then leaned back for a moment longer than she meant to. The rim of the tub pressed against her shoulder blades. She focused on the lap of water against copper, letting it drown out the noise in her head.
When the heat began to subside, she rose, dried herself off, and let Leah fasten clean linen around her shoulders. “Thank ye,” she said.
“Aye,” Leah said. “Rest. Ye will want it.”
Erica returned to bed, feeling the sheets hold her. Habit did the rest, and once again, sleep took her before she could gather up the night again.
She woke up to giggles and small hands on the blankets an hour later. Urgent whispers tripped over each other.
“Good morning. ‘Tis training day.”
Erica’s eyes fluttered open. “What?”
“Training day,” Bettie announced, her voice far too loud for the size of the room.
Erica squinted at a tumble of hair and bright eyes. “What are ye talking about?”
“Come see,” Katie said, bouncing on her toes.
“Ye cannae shout at people when they are asleep, girls,” Erica muttered, but the scold had no teeth.
Her hair lay loose and wild around her shoulders, and her head still felt heavy with what she had dreamed and what she had not.
“Come,” Bettie urged, tugging at the blanket. “Up, up.”
“All right,” Erica said, sitting up with a soft groan. “I am up. Ye two are fierce wee generals.”
“Aye, that is what Grandmamma says,” Katie said, very pleased.
“So, where will this training take place?” Erica asked, rubbing her eyes.
“In the yard,” Bettie said. “But nae a bad one. A fun one.”
“A fun training. That is nae comforting,” Erica said, and pushed her feet to the floor.
They dragged her toward the window with solemn urgency.
“Look,” Katie whispered, as if the scene might vanish if she spoke louder.
Erica parted the curtains. This time, the morning had cleared. The inner courtyard lay open and bright as men moved across the grass in quick pairs. Some traded light blows with wooden swords. Others ran a line of posts into the ground.
Near the far wall, two lads hauled a massive rope, thick as a wrist, across the lawn and looped it around a stump. Guards stood by with the ease of men who knew their own work and liked it.
Erica could see Calum from where she stood. He counted something on his fingers and pointed toward the east gate.
Under the broad tree by the far side of the yard, Grandmamma sat in a chair as if the spot had always belonged to her.
Her cane rested across her lap while a maid stood at her elbow with a tray and a steaming pot.
The old woman’s gaze missed nothing. Every time a pair of men changed places, her mouth would curve in a small, pleased line.
Erica’s eyes shifted and found him almost without effort.
Alex stood a little apart, speaking low to a boy who held a bundle of tall tree branches against his chest. He took one, checked its balance with a light tap against his palm, then handed it back and said something that made the boy’s face straighten with purpose.
Erica pressed her hand to the window frame. “What is the rope for?” she asked.
The twins exchanged a look that was half secret, half triumph.
“Ye will see,” Bettie said, sounding delighted.
Erica tilted her head. “I am starting to hate those words.”
“Ye will see,” Katie echoed, grinning.
“Ye two were born for plots,” Erica said. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned to the bed. “If ye drag me from sleep, I need a gown that willnae tear if I train.”
They nodded in wise agreement.
Bettie went straight to the chest and rooted with expert hands. “This one,” she declared, holding up a sturdy dress the color of the bright blue sky.
“Good,” Erica said. “Help me with the laces.”
They worked quickly, small fingers sure and eager. Erica tied a plain ribbon at the nape of her neck and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Shoes,” she said.
Katie bolted to the door and returned with slippers. “Leah left these by the doorway,” she reported.
“Of course she did,” Erica said. “She kens everything before I do.”
“Leah kens all,” Bettie said, solemn as a prayer.
“Aye,” Erica said, amused. “I am learning that.”
When they were done, the twins stepped back and looked her over as if they were a council.
Bettie lifted her chin. “Ye look like ye can run.”
“As surprising as that may come to a lot of people, I can,” Erica said. “But I would rather walk.”
“Ye can walk fast,” Katie said. “There is food there,” she added, to sweeten duty.
“Food,” Erica repeated. “Now I am interested.”
Bettie clasped her hand, and Katie took the other.
“Quiet now,” Bettie whispered. “We are sneaking.”
“We are going to the yard,” Erica reminded them, trying to keep her mouth straight. “Sneaking seems grand for two flights of stairs.”
“It makes it better,” Katie said. “And we daenae want to meet the nurse yet. She will make us fix our hair again.”
“Truly a tragedy.” Erica tutted.
They tiptoed to the door, and Erica lifted the lock. The corridor lay calm, morning light drifting along the floor in low bars. The twins moved with exaggerated stealth, knees high and feet soft. Erica followed because not following would have broken the game.
On the stairs, they paused, listening for adult feet that might stop their fun. None came. They crept down and slipped past the last turn that led to the hall.
A maid crossed at the bottom with a basket on her arm. She saw them and did not blink at the sight of Erica being marched like a captive queen. She only smiled and dipped her head.
“Training day,” Katie whispered as they passed by.
“Aye, me Lady,” the maid whispered back. “Mind yer laces.”
Erica bit back a laugh. “Are ye still nae going to tell me what this training is all about?” she murmured.
“Ye are about to see for yerself,” Bettie said. “It is a lot of fun.”
They reached the small door that opened onto the yard. Through the crack, Erica saw the rope looped along the grass like a coiled thing. Two men anchored one end, while another set his feet and hauled the slack through his hands, the fibers rasping a low, steady sound.
“What is that for?” Erica asked again. Curiosity had pushed past any wish to pretend it did not matter.
The twins glowed like banked coals.
“Ye will see,” Bettie said, almost dancing in place.
Erica narrowed her eyes at them and shook her head. “If ye say that one more time,” she said, “I might bite ye.”
Katie giggled. “Daenae bite us. We like ye.”
“That helps,” Erica said.
Bettie put her hand on the door. “Ready?” she asked.
“As I will ever be,” Erica said.
“Come,” Katie said. “Let us go outside.”
Alex moved through the yard with the morning at his back, the sun just high enough to lift the chill. Men lined the grass in orderly pairs. He checked grips, angles, and feet—the small things that kept bones whole. He paired fighters by habit, balancing weight and temper.
After he had finished, he stopped beside a guard who lagged a breath behind the count.
He watched for a minute and saw how sluggishly the guard fought. His hands moved a beat too late, and his feet were not as steady as they should be on the ground.
In a proper battlefield, he would not have lasted a second. When Alex couldn’t bear it anymore, he stepped forward and watched as the two fighters stopped to look at him, utter respect on their faces.
“Me Laird—”
“Let us say I am yer enemy,” Alex cut in. “And just a bit smarter than ye. Seeing the way ye hold yer sword, I daenae think that will be hard.”
Laughter rippled through the line, and the guard bit back a smile.
Alex took the man’s staff, showed the pivot, and gave the staff back with a small nod. Then he stepped into range and struck, sharp and clean, a tap that found the ribs. The guard grunted and fell to his knee.
“Mind yer flank,” Alex warned, offering a hand. “The enemy willnae care if ye forget.”
“Aye, me Laird,” the guard said, then rose with better balance.
“And square yer shoulders. Ye get more movement that way.”
“Aye, me Laird,” the guard responded, his voice laced with gratitude and the slightest hint of shame.
Alex watched them go at it again, his hands folded across his chest. He was so engrossed in the fight happening before him that he didn’t notice when Calum came up to his shoulder.
“Do ye nae think ye are pushin’ them a bit hard?” he murmured.
“Better to train for war,” Alex said. “Sometimes the war isnae outside the walls.”
Calum looked toward the east tower and back. “Aye.”
The guard won his rematch two rounds later, and Alex gave a small nod. “See? Ye only needed a push.”