her?’ he asked.
Uncertain of his goal, Tavis nodded. ‘At her parents’ and the laird’s request.’
‘What is your position with the earl?’
‘I command his personal guards and work with Rurik Erengislsson, the commander of all his soldiers.’ Tavis turned and faced the man. ‘Why not just ask the questions you wish to ask, my lord?’
‘Why?’ The words tumbled out then. ‘Why does she seek you out?’
‘I eased her way in her journey from Dunalastair to Lairig Dubh. I befriended her when there was no one else. She knows I will protect her even now.’
‘That is my job now, MacLerie.’
‘Aye, it will be when the words are spoken. Until then, I carry out my duty to my laird and the lass.’
James nodded at him and began to walk away, then he stopped and came back. ‘I had no intention of revealing something so painful to her. I meant no insult to her or your laird.’
Tavis meant to let him leave without another word, but he could not stop himself, it seemed. The young man was not a bad one, just young, and Tavis could see much of himself in him when he was that age.
‘I do not stand in your way in this betrothal or your marriage to her,’ he offered. No matter his own wants or needs, he would do his duty.
The young Murray accepted his words with a nod and then seemed to have another question he did not know how to ask. ‘Is there something else, my lord?’
‘Have you fought in battles, MacLerie?’
‘Aye, my lord, I have. And nearly been killed in a couple of them.’ He had come close a few times. Luckily one of his cousins or another had his back as he had theirs and they had walked out with some wounds and a few scars.
‘I have watched you fighting, training, with your men. I would join you …’
‘We will be here after we break our fast, my lord. ’tis your house and your yard. None would object to working with you,’ he said.
The young lord ran off then and Tavis was struck by the strangeness of the situation. In the moments when he allowed bitterness to fill his heart, he hated the man for being the one who would claim Ciara. He despised that James Murray would take her to his bed, make her his own, and be the one who commanded her life and her future. He hated …
Shaking his head, Tavis turned back to watch the horses run. But as the young lord’s actions had just now proven, he was not a bad man. He had offered an apology for speaking of better-left-unsaid matters and had tried to settle things between them, understanding that Tavis was in some way important to Ciara.
Older, better men than he would not have attempted such things or admit that their behaviour had offered insult in some way, so Tavis allowed a begrudging measure of respect for those actions, though he did not like feeling even that towards him. James Murray was as much a pawn in this as was Ciara and even himself, so the fact that he faced a man he suspected of inappropriate attentions to his betrothed and believed his explanation, and hers, spoke well of him, too.
His men began to rouse now, as did the rest of the household. His plan was to train until mid-day and then prepare for the journey back to Lairig Dubh that would begin on the morrow. After their meal, he called them into the yard and they paired off with sword or axe and targe. James did join them and, though clearly inexperienced at true battles, held his own in the mock battles.
When Tavis glanced up and noticed Ciara watching them, he wondered if she thought one of them would kill the other and he wondered for which one she would cheer. Understanding that it was ill advised to defeat the Murray heir in front of his family and those who served him, Tavis held in the frustrations he ached to unleash on the man who would claim Ciara and allowed James to win their match.
But only just.
‘Are they daft?’ Ciara said aloud. She’d thought it for some time as she watched them training in the yard.
‘They are being men,’ Cora advised from behind.
They were walking, enjoying the clear, sunny morning when she’d spotted them near the enclosure where their horses were. Ciara thought to ride a bit on her last morning here, to exercise her horse and stretch her own muscles in preparation for the journey home, only to find James and Tavis and most of the Murrays and all of the MacLeries fighting there. Even Lord Murray stood watching, calling out suggestions and cheering on his son and his men as the battle went in one direction or another.
There seemed to be rules—once a man was knocked off his feet, he left the field. No killing or maiming blows, though she could not be certain that none were injured. Blood flowed, she could see it even at this distance, for most of them fought bare-chested. Before she knew it, she was just a few paces away from the edge of it, holding her breath as only Tavis and James remained in the centre. Though there were far fewer MacLeries, those men were no less boisterous in cheering on their man than the outnumbering Murrays were.
Then, in a move she’d not seen before, Tavis seemed to grab James’s sword with his and fling it into the air and away. James, who had lost his dagger as well and was now weaponless, charged at Tavis and, at the last moment, kicked out his leg and tripped him to the ground. The Murrays cheered loudly, running to congratulate James and to pull Tavis up.
How did men do it? How could they be bitter rivals one moment and friends the next? She shook her head and watched as Tavis counselled James on the move he’d used to disarm him and then let him practise it several times on him. Soon they were practising it and sharing battle moves with each other’s men.
Ciara, Elizabeth and Cora left them behind to finish their practice and went back to begin packing. Lady Murray’s maids were already preparing her trunks, they’d been told, and Ciara expected that the trip back would take much longer than it had taken to get here. But there would be company for the journey and Lady Murray had even made arrangements for them to stay with relatives along the way so that they would be more comfortable.
Or she would be more comfortable!
Their party would now be four wagons, along with a score of Murray guards and more with the MacLeries mixed in to round out the count to almost two score in total.
A small army, Ciara thought as she mounted the next morning and watched as the whole entourage began to clamour out of the yard, through the village towards the main road. Lady Murray preferred to ride in the wagon, so hers had been fitted with comfortable, cushioned seats and Cora had taken refuge within it. Elizabeth rode just behind her, while James was at her side.
The mood of the group was pleasant, for there were servants to see to her needs, guards to keep watch and enough people to converse with as they crossed the miles. Their route back to Lairig Dubh would take a more southerly route: to the tip of ancient lands of Atholl following the Tay to the loch, then west along Glen Lyon and north to Lairig Dubh. Once more following the drovers’ roads, they would make good time and be off them before the great cattle drives from the north and west began.
They would not visit Dunalastair on the way back, avoiding any awkwardness about James’s or his father’s words on the matter of her mother. She did not know if James had revealed that she’d heard their discussion, but Lord Murray was friendlier now that their wedding was approaching and now that he would gain the support of the MacLeries
