Chapter 8
Olivia realized he had brought them to the edge of the training grounds, where all the soldiers practiced fighting every day of the week.
“Why have ye brought me here?” she asked, puzzled.
“We’re goin’ to practice our archery skills. In any case, it willnae hurt for ye to learn how to shoot and protect yerself.”
“Oy, Edan, what are ye doin’ here?” came a shout behind them.
Olivia turned around to see a rugged, good-looking, dark-haired warrior running up to greet them. The sheen of sweat on his brow showed he had been training hard.
“We’ve come to shoot some arrows,” Edan replied, a little impatiently Olivia thought. He waved a hand between them. “Olivia, this is me man-at-arms and friend, Zander Hendry. Zander, meet me wife, Olivia.”
“Lady Aberfeld, how nice to meet ye at last,” Zander said, bowing to Olivia and giving her a huge grin.
It was so infectious that she could not help but smile warmly at him. He appeared almost as ferocious as Edan but without the disfiguring scars.
“Tis nice to meet ye as well, Zander,” she told him, finding his grin charming.
“Right. Now that ye’ve been introduced, ye can bugger off, Zander,” Edan told his friend with a brutal frankness that took Olivia off guard.
So, ’tis nae just me he’s rude to!
Zander feigned disappointment. “That’s nae very nice, Edan. I’m afraid I cannae comply. Ye see, I havenae finished me trainin’, and as ye ken, as the Laird’s man-at-arms, I have to train every day.”
Olivia noticed Edan’s jaw tighten, although he said nothing as he led her over to the wooden racks where the bows and arrows were stored. Several targets were already set up a few hundred yards away for practice.
Zander lingered nearby while Olivia watched as Edan took up a bow and fired off several shots at the targets, hitting the bullseye every time. On one occasion, she applauded, impressed when he split his own arrow in two.
“Fancy shootin’, eh, Lady Aberfeld?” Zander said, coming up behind her.
“Aye, very impressive,” Olivia agreed.
“Ach, he’s just showin’ off to impress ye. Is that nae right, Edan?” Zander added teasingly, his grin still in place.
Edan said nothing but nocked a fresh arrow. Turning away from the targets at the last moment, he shot it… and it hit the ground, quivering between Zander’s feet.
“Edan! What are ye doin’? That’s dangerous!” Olivia cried, shocked.
But when Zander burst out laughing, she realized he had not been worried at all.
Edan must be very skillful.
“Ach, all right, ye’ve made yer point, man. I’ll be on me way and leave ye in peace,” Zander said good-humoredly. He gave Olivia a little salute. “It’s been a pleasure, Lady Aberfeld. I hope we meet again soon.”
“Aye, I hope so too, Zander,” Olivia replied, wondering at the tension between the two friends.
She heard him laughing as he walked away to continue his practice elsewhere.
When he was out of earshot, she turned to Edan and asked, “Did he really leave so we could be alone?”
Edan nodded, and she could not help but chuckle.
“He was very lucky ye’re such a good shot. If ye’d missed, he might have lost his ability to father bairns.”
“The world would be blessed without mini-Zanders runnin’ about in it,” Edan replied drily.
That had Olivia laughing out loud.
“Now that he’s gone, we can start yer training,” Edan told her, going over to the racks. “Come over here and pick a bow.”
She obeyed, choosing a bow that looked light but strong. But when she pulled on the string to test it, it snapped.
“Are ye hurt?” was the first thing Edan asked her, which she found touching.
“Nay, I’m fine,” she told him.
“How the hell did that happen?” Edan muttered, taking the bow from her and inspecting it. “Hmm, must be a weak string, I suppose,” he said finally, putting the broken bow aside. “Never mind. Ye can use me bow instead.”
To Olivia’s surprise, he stood close behind her and put his arms around her, guiding her hands, showing her how to hold the bow and shoot with the greatest accuracy and precision.
She did her best to pay attention to his instructions, but having his strong, warm body pressed to her back and his muscular arms around her made her heart race. She sensed he felt it too, from the tension crackling between them.
She took a few shots, and with his help, her arrows hit the target but nowhere near the bullseye.
“I dinnae think I’ll ever be as good as ye, Edan,” she said, a little disappointed with her performance.
“’Tis yer first time. I’ve been shootin’ a bow since I was five years old. Of course, I’m good at it. Ye just need to practice. Anyway, ye dinnae have to shoot like me to defend yerself. Come on, try again.”
Encouraged by his practical assessment, she tried again. With his help, this time, her arrow landed much closer to the center.
“Well, that was a big improvement!” she exclaimed, pleased with herself.
She leaned her head back to smile at him and was immediately ensnared by the intense expression on his face.
He was bending low, his arms around her, and she felt him lean in as if about to kiss her.
Thrills ran through her as she stood perfectly still, looking up at him as his lips neared hers.
But just as their mouths were about to touch, Olivia was overcome by shyness and turned her head away, deeply flustered by the hunger she had glimpsed in his eyes as well as the knowledge that she badly wanted him to kiss her.
She did not understand why she kept hesitating.
After that, things remained tense between them for a while. But as they continued with her training and she began to show improvement, she forgot the awkwardness and became engrossed in her efforts.
“Well, I must say, I enjoyed our first outing very much, Edan. Thank ye for initiatin’ me into the delights of archery,” she told him when they finished and made their way back to the castle arm-in-arm.
She was genuinely pleased that things had gone so well.
“I shall keep practicin’ as much as I can. Maybe I’ll surprise ye.”
“Och, I’ve nay doubt ye will,” he replied enigmatically, leaving her wondering exactly what he meant by that.
The following day, just after luncheon, Edan and Zander were inspecting the castle’s defenses when their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Findlay.
The councilman came panting up a set of stone stairs and had to catch his breath before he could finally say with urgency, “Me Laird, there’s been an incident, and I must ask ye to come to the Great Hall at once.”
“Why? What’s happened?” Edan asked with concern.
Seeing how genuinely flummoxed Findlay was, he immediately cut the tour short and strode off down the steps with Zander, heading to the Great Hall to find out what was afoot, leaving Findlay puffing along behind them.
When they got there, they found a handful of farmers from the surrounding villages gathered there, all looking very tense and serious.
“What’s goin’ on?” Edan asked, going to meet them, noticing with resignation their fearful expressions when they saw his scarred face.
“’Tis our crops, Me Laird,” a grey-haired man clutching his cap nervously in his calloused hands answered for them all. “Someone has been in the fields overnight and destroyed them.”
“Destroyed them? How?” Edan asked, outraged by the news.
“Everything’s been rooted up, Me Laird, as if wild boars had gotten in there. But it cannae be that because ’tis in all our fields, and the fences are too strong for the boars to get through.”
“Aye,” piped up a tall, gangly fellow with a pock-marked face. “’Tis human hands that have done it, Me Laird. I swear.”
“But why, and who could be responsible for such wanton destruction?” Edan demanded, though he already knew the answer.
The men shrugged helplessly, as well they might. “We dinnae ken, Me Laird. That’s why we’ve come to report it to ye.”
“Have ye got any ideas who could have done it?” Zander asked in a low voice so the others would not hear.
“Aye. I dinnae have any proof yet, but I reckon it must be Nurkirk,” Edan told him.
“We’ve lost our income for the season, Me Laird,” the gangly fellow said. “None of us kens how we’re goin’ to survive after this.”
“All right, I’ll make sure ye’re compensated for yer losses.
Ye can take what ye need from the castle grain store, and I’ll give ye all some money as well, so ye can buy supplies to feed yer families.
Whatever ye need, I’ll make sure ye get it.
I’ll get to the bottom of this—ye can be sure of that,” Edan reassured them, his anger building at the havoc he was sure Nurkirk had caused out of pure spite.
“Thank ye, Me Laird, for yer generosity,” the grey-haired man said, smiling now.
It was amazing how quickly their fear of his scars had faded into relief. But it was his job to look after his people and safeguard them from hardship if he could.
When the farmers had gone, he turned to Zander and Findlay.
“I reckon Nurkirk’s behind this, as revenge for what happened the other week when I threw him out on his ear,” he told them, furious by now.
“I willnae let this lie. I want revenge on that simperin’ dog.
If he wants a fight, then he’ll get one all right. ”
“’Tis easy enough to say that, Edan, but the men are exhausted by a year of war. They’re nae ready for more battles,” Zander pointed out.
“I cannae agree with ye, Zander,” Findlay put in.
Edan noticed how disturbed he seemed by the whole incident.
“The Laird’s right. We should attack Nurkirk without delay and remove him from the picture if possible.
He’s trouble, and he should pay with his life for attackin’ our clan before it goes any further. ”
“Aye, I agree, Findlay. I dinnae want to fight any more than the next man. I’m tired of fightin’ too, Zander, but I have to put a stop to this as soon as possible.”
Zander shook his head dubiously. “The men arenae fit for battle, I tell ye,” he insisted.