Chapter Eighteen
Brynja
Brynja sat in the boat with Hildi’s head in her lap, Artan, Simone, and one of Thane’s guards rowing them across to MacQuarie land. “Can Lady Brenna fix her? I can’t lose my best friend, Simmy.”
“If she can be fixed, Lady Brenna will find a way. She’s the best in all the land.”
When they arrived at MacQuarie land, Thane told Artan, “If she hasn’t awakened yet, take the larger boat and four more men down through the Sound of Mull straight to Craignure. You can use a cart to get her to Duart from there.”
They’d switched boats, Hildi moving from one set of hands to another and then another, but she never awakened.
Once in the new boat, Brynja did her best not to cry, because the look on Hildi’s pale face saddened her more than anything else could right now. How could she still be sound asleep after sleeping the night through?
Oh, she knew Hagen would have something to say about her coming with Simone, how she’d refused him. But he’d have to deal with it. What else was she to do? Hildi was no better, and Simone had been forceful about bringing her to another healer.
Beatris had wholeheartedly agreed.
It took them longer than anticipated to arrive at Duart Castle, but the weather had been good, and it was the middle of the day, so she was pleased.
But she hadn’t expected to see how spectacular Duart Castle was, sitting majestically on a promontory, turrets, parapets, and castle walls all making it appear as though it could touch the sky. It overlooked the Sound of Mull and the sea, a true rarity.
Simone must have caught her staring as they climbed up the hill, riding mares abreast. “Quite regal, is it not, Brynja?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” She was unsettled riding her own mount because she hadn’t ridden much, only the small ponies at the nunnery. Simone held the reins of her mount when she needed assistance, and Brynja was grateful. But the castle was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
As they drew near along the coast path, the fortress changed from a dark silhouette against the sky into a formidable mass of weathered walls, its square keep rising defiantly above the Sound of Mull, surrounded by a thick curtain wall.
The waters below churned gray-green against black rocks, and gulls cried in the salt-laden wind.
The castle seemed to emerge from its crag, as though it had stood watch over these waters since the beginning of time, its stones bearing the marks of years of rough storms and clan warfare.
“It’s monstrous,” Brynja whispered. “How many live here?”
“It changes daily because of the Grants and Ramsays. It’s their way to travel back and forth to the Highlands.
It was built by the MacDougalls, but King Robert took it from them and gifted it to the Ramsays, and they gathered with their allies to choose the chieftains.
There are two lairds, Maitland Menzie and Dyna Grant. ”
“A lass is a chieftain?” Brynja couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Aye, and the two in charge of the fighting forces are husband and wife, Alaric and Eli Grant, who is my niece. He trains the swordsmen, and she trains the archers.”
Brynja said nothing, wishing Hildi could hear what they discussed. Would she be as shocked as Brynja was to hear that lasses were part of their fighters? “The castle looks so tall.”
“The tower house is four stories, and the main keep is three stories tall. The Grants know how to manage chambers, putting three or four beds in each chamber, some meant just for bairns. They have two stables, one for the horses and the other building is where most of their guards sleep.”
“I cannot wait to see inside. It must be beautiful.”
Simone nodded, squeezing one of her hands. “There are two hearths just in the great hall. Tons of tables, benches, tapestries, along with various weaponry on the walls. You’ll see, but I think you’ll be more impressed when you see the courtyard and what’s inside the curtain wall.”
Brynja tipped her head, puzzled by the comment. “Why?”
“After the recent attacks, they moved the archery field inside. It’s smaller than the outside one, but Alaric wouldn’t have his wife practicing outside the walls. There’s a small area for the guards to practice, but the primary lists are outside the wall. You’ll see.”
Once they were at the gates and inside the wall, handing their mounts to the stable lads, Simone said, “Artan will carry Hildi to Brenna. I would like you to come with me. Let Brenna take a good look at Hildi before we join her. Do you agree?”
“Why can’t I go with Hildi?”
“You will, but healers like to see the sick person alone at first. I’d like to show you around the castle, so you know where you’re going. And there are some special people I’d like to introduce you to first.”
Brynja stood inside the curtain wall of the huge castle, looking up at the parapets and the windows of the stone keep.
It was surely a glorious place overlooking the sea.
Just inside the gates stood a tall man with dark hair peppered with strands of gray.
He stood taller than anyone, and he approached them.
“Simone,” he said. “Is this the lass I’ve heard so much about? ”
“This is Brynja Nyberg,” Simone said. “She and her friend live at the nunnery, but they were attacked on Ulva by unknown assailants. Hagen and his cousins were there. Hildi is still not well so we brought her to see Brenna. Brynja, this is the past chieftain of Clan Grant, Connor Grant. Also Hagen’s father. ”
“Greetings to you, my lord,” she said, not knowing what else would be appropriate. She’d never seen so many men in one place except at the abbey with all the monks. But monks didn’t talk so this was definitely different.
There were men everywhere.
“Welcome to Duart Castle. If I can be of any assistance to you, Brynja, please let me know.”
“My thanks to you,” she said, kneading her tunic a little too hard. Being this close to men who weren’t monks did make her a bit uncomfortable, and she stepped back two paces. What if one of them tried to touch her inappropriately? Should she ask Simone about such a situation?
“I’ll leave you to your tour.” Connor headed back to the keep, almost as if he’d picked up on her state.
Simone said, “Come, I’ll show you the archery practice field. The butts some call it.”
Brynja approached the small archery field, Simone behind her. The closer she got, the more shocked she was. Brynja had never seen anything like it in all her days on Tiree or Iona. Nothing could have surprised her more.
It wasn’t the castle or the keep that held her attention, but the people. This was the world she’d always dreamed of, a world she thought only existed in the land of the Norse. Surely there was something special going on.
Off to the side of the keep stood two lasses, one with red hair and the other with brown hair, both dressed in tight leggings, firing arrows at three different targets. They fired so fast that it made her gasp.
What shocked her even more was the older woman with only one leg who appeared to be teaching them. She had an odd contraption on one leg while a man stood behind her, catching her and setting her to rights whenever she began to lose her balance.
The older woman said, “Merryn, watch me for a moment. Watch my hand movements. I arrange my arrows like this so I can grab them faster.” She fired five arrows pulled out of her quiver so quickly that Brynja covered her mouth to hide her gasp.
Then the poor woman teetered on her odd leg contraption, and the man behind her caught her, righting her at the same time she bellowed, “Logan!”
“I have you, love,” the man said. Then he shouted over his shoulder. “Dyna! We need you!”
Simone whispered, “Those are my adoptive parents, Logan and Gwyneth Ramsay. I’ll introduce you later, but first I’d like you to see exactly what you could have if you moved here with them.
I promise they will accept you. They saved me and many others from the exact type of evil men who killed your mother, Brynja. We will help you.”
The red-haired lass shot again. “Was that better? It felt better.”
Simone tipped her head toward the archers. “That’s Merryn, married to Broc Grant. She’s just learning, as you are, and she lost her sister and her parents to some cruel bastards. Watch and see who you think the best is. And the other is my niece, Eli, married to Alaric Grant. She’s a feisty lass.”
Gwyneth said, “Try again, Eli. You were a wee bit slow.”
Eli did as instructed and hit the center of her target four times, but missed the fifth one.
Logan whistled. “Nice job, but what happened to the last one, granddaughter?”
The door of the keep opened and a nearly-white haired woman exited, hurrying over and grabbing a bow and quiver with ten arrows, her suppressed giggle erupting. “Mama has the lassies. My turn, please.” She stretched the last word out as long as she could.
Logan glanced at the blonde and drawled, “You need practice like Gwynie does, and you know it, Dyna.”
Brynja held her breath. She glanced over her shoulder at Simone, who nodded and whispered, “Aye. Hagen’s sister and the best in my opinion. I watch her moves verra carefully. She’s as graceful as she is powerful, something you don’t often see.”
Brynja had to hold it together because she couldn’t believe she could have the opportunity to learn from these women.
These strong, powerful women who were allowed to be themselves and not forced to wear skirts and be delicate and dainty.
No man stood near them barking orders except the one helping his wife supervise the training session.
Dyna set herself while the others stood back. She fired every arrow she had, pausing twice, every one hitting the center target. Gwyneth laughed and applauded. “Nice job, Dyna.”
Dyna let out an unladylike snarl as she ran over to the target. “I missed with this one.”
Eli shouted, “Hellfire, nay, you witchin’ bitch! You nailed every single one!”