Chapter Three #3
The stable for the abbey wasn’t very large.
In fact, part of it was in an old outbuilding, and then a shelter with a sloping roof was attached to it.
A cow, a calf, some goats, and several chickens were in a corner of the outbuilding portion, trying to stay warm, and the woman with the crossbow brought the two horses she was leading straight into the outbuilding.
That unnerved the cow and the goats a little, and they pressed further into a corner as all five horses were finally brought in, crowded, but that couldn’t be helped.
Once they were tied off, Estevan began removing the gear and saddles.
All the while, the woman with the crossbow watched.
She watched him carefully remove the saddle of Rodion’s steed and set everything down against the wall of the stable before moving on to the next one.
He was working methodically, quickly, but the horses were tired and hungry and restless, so she finally slung the crossbow over her shoulder and moved to the horse closest to her.
Deftly, she untied the cinch and pulled the very heavy saddle off.
Mimicking what Estevan was doing, she put it neatly against the wall before moving to the next horse.
Soon enough, all five horses were free of their saddles, but Estevan took the saddle blanket from his own horse and began rubbing the animals down.
The woman with the crossbow abruptly departed, leaving him wondering why she’d left him alone when she was so suspicious of his movements, but he soon found out.
When she returned, it was with a few other women carrying buckets of water and oats.
Lots of oats, filled to the brim of the buckets.
Soon enough, all of the horses were slurping water and munching on the grain.
“That is almost all the oats we have,” the woman with the crossbow said. “You will have to find us more, since your horses are eating our supply.”
Estevan was standing at the head of his own horse, watching the animal blow out puffs of oats and dust with his head shoved into the bucket like it was.
“We’ll go intae Dumfries in the morning and buy twice what ye’ve given us,” he said. “What else do ye need?”
She looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
He came away from the horse’s head. “Just what I said,” he said. “What more do ye need? Food? Meat? Drink? My mother will take a stick tae me if she knows I ate yer food and dinna replace it and then some. Therefore, tell me what more ye need and I’ll purchase it tomorrow.”
She regarded him a moment. Truthfully, Estevan found himself looking at her also.
They were both studying one another, not quite suspiciously, more out of curiosity.
Estevan was quite curious about her, actually.
His initial observation about her beauty was not wrong.
Beneath the dirt, messy hair, and mannish clothing, she was exquisite.
She was also tall, with long arms and legs.
A little slender for his liking, but he was certain every ounce of her was strong from the way she’d handled that crossbow.
A unique woman, indeed.
“I will have to ask Mother Michael if we need anything more,” she finally said. “Your offer is generous.”
He shook his head. “I dunna think it is generous enough,” he said. “Ye’re giving us shelter from the storm. Ye dinna have tae, but ye showed mercy. We appreciate it.”
“We could not very well turn you away once the lightning threatened,” she said. “Are you finished with your horses now?”
He looked at the five snorting, crunching horses. “I think so,” he said. “But I’ll need tae check on them once they’ve finished eating tae make sure they’re settling down for the night.”
“Then mayhap you should remain here until they are done.”
He nodded. “That would be a good idea,” he said. “If ye’ll allow it.”
She nodded her silent reply, but she stepped outside where the gang of women and weapons were still gathered. A couple of them had helped bring in the oats and water, but for the most part, they were still armed, still waiting for him to make a wrong move.
He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.
With the women hissing at each other outside the door, he went to check on his own horse, bending over to feel a fetlock, but in reality, he was listening to what the women were saying.
It was clear that they were very nervous having men in the compound, and several of them were advocating to chase the men back out into the storm.
But the woman with the crossbow held firm, wielding the name of Mother Michael like a weapon.
It shut the other women up fairly quickly.
Soon enough, the group disbanded except for a couple of them still lingering by the stable door.
“You can bed down here for the night with the horses,” the woman with the crossbow said as she entered the stable. “Your friends will remain in the cathedral.”
He nodded, giving his horse a pat on the hindquarters. “As ye wish,” he said. “Or we can all sleep in the stable with the horses. There’s plenty of dried grass tae lie on.”
“I think it is better if you stay where you are.”
He cocked his head, looking at her curiously as he leaned on the back of his horse. “What are ye so afraid of?” he asked. “We told ye that we meant ye no harm. We’ve not shown any aggression since we arrived, yet ye still treat us as if we’ve done something wrong.”
Her expression remained hard. “You are men,” she said simply. “Men are not to be trusted.”
He nodded. “I see,” he said. “And ye’ve known enough men that ye can make this judgment?”
A ripple of confusion crossed her brow. “Nay,” she said. “But the world is a terrible state right now because men do not trust one another. Why should I trust them if they cannot trust each other? Why should I trust you?”
“Because I’m not making war upon ye,” he said softly. “I’m an honorable man, lass. All of the men with me are honorable. Such a thing does exist, I assure ye.”
Her hard expression was wavering. “It… it is better if we do not trust you,” she said. “Trust is a weakness, and we will not show weakness.”
He smiled faintly. “Trust is stronger than the mightiest army,” he said. “It can move mountains. Do ye consider yer friends weak?”
He was motioning to the women outside the stable. He could just see the tops of their heads from this angle. The woman turned slightly, catching sight of them, before returning her focus to Estevan.
“Of course not,” she said. “None of us are weak.”
“But ye trust them.”
“With my life.”
“Using yer logic, does that not make ye weak?”
He was using her words against her and she didn’t like that. “I said that it is better if we do not trust you,” she said. “I never said anything about not trusting my friends.”
He grunted. “Then what applies tae men does not apply tae women.”
“That is a fair statement.”
His gaze lingered on her for a moment. “My name is Estevan,” he said.
“I know it’s not a usual name for a Scotsman, but my family descends from the Spaniards who came with the Romans.
It’s tradition in my family for the children tae have names that come from Asturias or Castille or Aragon. May I ask yer name, lass?”
“You may not.”
He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. He started laughing and turned away from her, back to his horse, bending over again to check the animal’s legs and purge thoughts of that stubborn woman from his mind.
No matter how pretty she was, it didn’t overcome that bullish manner.
But his laughter eventually faded and he resorted to ignoring her.
If she wasn’t going to at least be polite, he didn’t need to bother himself over her.
So he didn’t.
It made for a long, cold night.