6. Promises and Favors
Promises and Favors
Two Days Later…
Catriona’s candle was nearly burned down to a stub. Squinting, she hunched over her letter, reading through what she’d written one more time.
Her parents would expect a little detail, but not too much.
Of course, there was so much she couldn’t tell them, even if she wanted to.
She hadn’t mentioned the deal with Kenneth.
She hadn’t mentioned Sukie’s eagle eyes, always on the lookout for an unswept corner, missed cobweb, or potato peeled just a little too thickly.
Only last night, Sukie had triumphantly informed Catriona that since she’d peeled too much of the potato flesh along with the skin, she would have only the skins she’d peeled to eat that night, instead of stew.
She’d changed her tune after Catriona fried the potato skins in bacon fat and a little salt, turning them into a crispy, delicious treat that everybody wanted to try.
I certainly can’t tell them about Niall, she thought, grimacing.
Folding up the paper, she sealed the edges with a blob of wax from her candle.
It was hardly a fine red seal, but it would ensure that the letter wouldn’t be opened and read by prying eyes.
She’d need to give a few coins to the messenger in any case, to prevent the letter from being “lost”.
Should I have added a postscript that I’ll return to visit as soon as I can? Nay, that would be a lie.
She sank back on her low stool, rubbing her aching eyes. It was late, the Keep was mostly asleep, and the chores were done. Most of the chores, in any case. Work was never done to Sukie’s satisfaction.
The Keep had been quieter, however, with Niall gone. Despite her careful questions and offhand remarks, nobody seemed to know just where, exactly, he’d gone. It was probably best not to pry too deeply.
I’m glad he’s gone, she told herself, rising stiffly to her feet and picking up the envelope. I don’t miss him or his stupid, handsome face.
There was probably a very good reason as to why she thought she kept seeing him in the corners, grinning at her. It was not because she missed him. Not a man like him.
Whatever happened in the hallway, that moment of tension, it… it was nothing. A fluke. An embarrassment. Nothing.
She eased open her door, peering out into the hallway.
Nobody was around. Good. She hurried along the corridor, coins clinking in her pocket.
She would find the messenger, tell him the address, and get her letter out before the rest of the servants wanted theirs delivered.
It meant that Ma and Pa were more likely to get the letter soon.
They must be worried. Besides that, they—
“Ah, Catriona. There ye are, lass. I was wondering who would be roaming the corridors at this time of night.”
She stopped dead in her tracks at the familiar voice and turned slowly. A man stood in a shadowed doorway, watching her. His smile widened when their eyes met.
“Kenneth,” she blurted, then winced. “I mean, Master.”
His smile seemed to grow sharper at that. He took a few steps closer, and Catriona fought not to back away. A sense of unease crawled over her skin. Was the corridor darker than before? Had the Keep always been so quiet?
His eyes were somewhat glazed, his movements more still than usual. For a moment, she was confused as to why, then she breathed in the distinctive scent of whiskey.
Is he drunk or only tipsy? She wondered. He seems more unpredictable than usual.
“I’m glad ye’re are here,” Kenneth continued. He didn’t slur his words, but the strange look remained in his eyes. “I wanted to thank ye.”
“Thank me?”
“Aye, for keeping Niall out of sight. It’s been good, not having him around for the last few days.”
Catriona’s teeth closed around the tip of her tongue, keeping herself from saying anything.
I have naught to do with his disappearance, she wanted to say. That was the truth, after all. However, something told her that saying that would be a bad idea. Best to keep her mouth closed, then.
Kenneth didn’t seem to notice her hesitation.
“When I’m laird, ye’ll get yer reward,” he continued, nodding. “Whatever favor ye want, I’ll grant it.”
“When ye are laird?” she queried.
Stupid, Catriona, she scolded herself. Keep yer mouth shut!
Kenneth only smiled. “Aye, and it’ll be close enough. This Keep is as good as mine, and so is the clan. Stick with me, lassie, and all will be well.”
He winked at her, tapping the side of his nose, and slipped past her, his footsteps as silent as always.
Within a few steps, he seemed to vanish entirely into the shadows.
With anybody else, she would have been able to hear their boot heels ringing out on the stone floor, a subtle echo following them.
Not with Kenneth, however. He just vanished with no trace or sound.
Catriona let out a long, slow breath, one that she hadn’t quite realized that she was holding.
There’s something wrong with that man. Maybe it’s just ambition, but either way, I’d do best to steer clear of him. If he learns who I truly am, I have no doubt that he’d throw our deal aside and use me as an asset.
And if he wants war with Clan MacAlpin…
She swallowed, shuddering. Slowly and pointedly, she rolled her shoulders, twisting her neck to try to shake out the strain. Her blood thrummed, and her mind bounced from problem to problem.
I’ll never sleep now, she thought miserably.
The training fields were empty.
That was unsurprising, considering that dawn was still a few hours away. Torches were bolted onto the stone walls, and braziers were set here and there so that the lower half of the field was light enough to see around.
Piles of equipment lay stacked up. Wooden shields and swords, bows and arrows, circular canvas targets studded with holes, and leaking strawmen for combat practice.
And, of course, carefully smoothed-out wooden staffs.
Catriona picked one up at random. Hefting it in her hand, she was pleased to feel that it was well-balanced. A good staff.
Taking a step back, she conducted one experimental swing of the staff. It whistled through the air, singing. She smiled.
Och, aye. This is a good one.
Then she heard a slow, amused chuckle from behind her.
Now, who could that be? Catriona thought with a rush of annoyance.
Annoyance and… and something else. Something else that she couldn’t quite name.
Slowly, she turned, and there he was.
Niall leaned up against a stone wall, grinning at her. She’d heard the smile in his voice already, the wretched man. He pushed up from the wall, swaggering towards her.
“Very smooth,” he remarked, nodding at her staff. “I’d not like to be on the receiving end of that.”
She eyed him warily. “Why are ye here? It’s late.”
“I could ask ye the very same question.”
“Then let me rephrase. Why are ye back? Ye have been missing for days.”
“Ahh. Ye missed me, did ye?”
She sighed, passing a hand over her forehead. “Nay. I did not. I notice ye are not telling me where ye went.”
He chuckled. “I think I owe ye an apology, lass.”
Well. That took her by surprise. She blinked, waiting for something else. Some laughter, perhaps, or some sign that he was mocking her.
It was hard to read his expression properly in the dark. He took a careful step closer, tilting his head to one side.
“I was sharp with ye,” he said at last. “I wish I hadn’t been.”
She pressed her lips together, eyeing him curiously.
“I can’t help thinking that ye really mean that,” she said at last.
He gave a snort of laughter. “That’s because I do, lassie. Now, ye have some fine moves there, I see. Not the best, but they’ll do.”
“Hey!”
“How would ye like to learn some more?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Ye are offering to teach me? How magnanimous of ye.”
Grinning, he swaggered past her, choosing another staff from the pile.
Nimbly whirling it around, he spun the staff up into the air, spinning all the while, and caught it neatly.
He struck again and again, the air around Catriona whipping up her hair and making her blink.
Once—she wasn’t entirely sure since he moved so quickly—she could have sworn that the end of the staff passed inches in front of her nose.
He paused, and silence rushed in. He lifted his eyebrows questioningly, and she could almost hear his Well?
“Fine,” Catriona managed at last, somewhat ungraciously. “But I reckon ye have had a lot more practice with me. My training was with Da and then by myself in a field.”
“I do have more experience and practice than ye,” he conceded, relaxing a little. “But it’s not a competition. Want to learn?”
She glanced down at the staff, tightening her grip.
“Aye, go on then.”
His eyes brightened. “Then let’s start.”
Almost before she could draw in a breath, he spun into action, staff trailing along behind him. Catriona missed a beat and barely had time to lift her staff into a defensive position before he froze, the staff poised inches from her shins.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Not such a good start.”
“I wasn’t ready!”
“Aye, and ye think warfare is all about being ready? Enemies will try to attack ye when ye are not ready. In fact, they prefer it that way. How do ye think a battle starts? Do ye think the armies all line up opposite each other, and a referee goes between them to make sure everybody is definitely ready before it begins?”
She sniffed. “Nay, of course not.”
“Right. Then ye should know that not being ready is something ye will have to be, ironically, prepared for. Now, are ye ready to start?”
She nodded tightly, lifting her staff.
He flew forward. And he really did seem to fly, feet skimming over the ground with surprising grace for such a large man. He grinned; she caught a glimpse of white teeth.
Catriona lifted her staff in a defensive stance, one of the first ones that Da had taught her. The two staffs collided, the impact sending jarring shivers down her arms.
She held her stance and did not yield any ground.
“Well done,” Niall murmured, sounding ever so slightly surprised. “That was a hard blow, too.”
“There ye see,” she responded, lifting her chin. “I’m tougher than I look.”
He didn’t ease off the pressure. They stood where they were, staffs locked together. Neither of them moved an inch, but the pressure continued, each one pushing, pushing against the other, trying to gain some ground. Catriona felt a trickle of sweat make its way between her hairline and eyebrow.
When had his face gotten so close to hers? Only a few inches of wood separated them, the two staffs grinding against each other. Her shoulders and biceps shivered under the strain.
No. He’s my enemy. I hate him. I hate him!
Where did he go? Why did he return? Why…
Abruptly, he shoved her back, making her stagger away. The movement was so easy for him that she guessed he’d been holding back on her. That was annoying, too.
“Well done,” he responded thoughtfully. “Ye are better than I thought.”
“Ye can hardly tell that from a few seconds’ sparring.”
He tilted his head. “Who says we’ve only been sparring for a few seconds?”
“What on earth do ye mean?”
“Aye, nothing. So, tell me, lassie. Are ye glad I’m back? Ye must be since ye noticed that I wasn’t here.”
She could feel her cheeks reddening, but with any luck he wouldn’t notice in the dark.
I’ll not let his charm fool me again.
“Of course not,” she stated boldly.
“Nay, ye wouldn’t be, would ye?” he responded thoughtfully, scratching his chin. “Ye are only attracted to power. Only Kenneth would interest ye.”
Catriona ground her teeth so hard she was surprised they didn’t crack.
“That’s not true. I’m just not attracted to cowards.”
Heat flickered in his eyes. “Oh, very clever, lass. Such a sharp tongue ye have. Beware ye don’t cut yerself on it.”
“I was never afraid of a wee bit of blood.”
His eyes crinkled as though he wanted to smile. Catriona felt, to her horror, the urge to smile back. The corners of her mouth tugged, wanting to turn up. Swallowing, she turned away, tossing the staff back in the pile.
“I had better go in,” she said shortly. “Goodnight.”
She turned to go, but his voice stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m no coward.”
Her fingers curled into her fists. She said nothing but heard his footsteps approach, crunching softly on the dew-soaked grass. For the first time, she realized that the dew had soaked her hem too, and it hung wetly around her ankles.
“I’ll just have to convince ye, won’t I?” he continued softly. “I’ll not play yer game, Catriona.”
She didn’t turn around, even though he was only a step or two behind her. Sucking in a breath, she tilted up her chin.
“I’m not playing a game.”
He gave a huff of laughter, and she felt it warmly on the back of her neck.
“Is that so? Well, a wee word of advice. Stay out of sight tomorrow. Keep yer head down. Clan Farrish is coming for a visit.”
“What?” Catriona gasped, spinning around, but by then it was already too late, and he was walking away.