Eleanor sat in the field looking from her sketchbook to Storm and back again. Her ability had improved a lot in the past month, but she still could not get the horses neck to look right and with Mairead gone she could get no pointers or lessons to fix it. She’d never be as skilled as Mairead, but her drawings were fairly nice now. Especially when she drew plants or flowers, things that didn’t move much. She was not nearly as good if she had to hold an image of a living creature in her mind and draw it with accuracy after it had moved. She was a bit disappointed that Eliana wouldn’t try learning to draw with her. She had hoped to be close with her sister once again, but she and Eliana had little in common. They had similar eyes and faces, like their mother’s, but that was all. Eliana liked to sit and stitch. She didn’t mind being told what to do and honestly was quite dull to talk to. Eleanor found herself more drawn to Isobel’s strong spirit, and her wild, reckless antics or Mairead’s
The setting sun was coming in through the tiny window bathing her toes in a reddish glow and lighting up the wooden beams above her. Eleanor was lying on her back with her hands behind her head, watching the light dancing on her skin.She’d killed a man. Oddly, she didn’t even feel badly about that. She was certain he was not sent by Fann and her actions had kept her safe. She hadn’t exactly intended to kill him, but of course that wouldn’t matter. A women who killed a man hardly ever got out of it with her life.Padraig had seen to her comfort as best he could. She was in the top of the tower rather than in the dungeon for one thing and plenty of food and drink were being brought to her. She wasn’t shackled either, which had enraged the man’s friend beyond reason. Even Thomas, who knew both men, had seen it as an accident and didn’t feel she should be tried. The emissary too had said that the king would object to such a charge. None the less, since the man insisted on pursuing the c
Fann’s anger and worry both grew as he rode East. At least his brilliant wife had suspected a ruse and devised a way to postpone being taken from the castle. They hadn’t really made a password. He should have thought of that. It was good that Isobel had been able to teach her something about using a dirk in his absence too, he certainly hadn’t taken the time to before her injury and she hadn’t been recovered enough when he left her. Eleanor must have been well healed now to be able to use it so well. He should have come to retrieve her long ago. The bells began ringing as he approached MacInnis keep, but Fann didn’t slow his pace. He continued on and through the gates at full speed, trusting that the guards would recognize his horse. He heard a voice yelling for the archers to hold their fire as he crossed the grounds. Fann leapt from the horses back and was half way to the doors when Padraig and Thomas came out.“Where were you!” Fann demanded angrily, stomping up the last of the ste
The day had passed, and the night, and another day too. She had eaten all the bread that Isobel had left. How long would it take? The fact that she had killed a man was beginning to feel more real to her than it had after it happened. If she let herself think on it she felt like retching. There had been so much blood... The sound of footsteps in the bush caught her attention. She hadn’t heard human footsteps since Isobel and Griogair had walked away. Were they coming back? She held her breath listening and nearly called out when the footsteps stopped at the base of the tree, but something told her all was not well. Friendly visitors would have called to her by now. Carefully she tugged the blanket up to be sure all of her was covered. Isobel had said that if anyone looked up from the bottom all they would see was a piece of bark and blackness. It would appear to be only old, dead tree so long as the blanket covered all of her.It was likely a hunter she reasoned. Perhaps setting a sn
It was a much longer ride to this keep and even Fann’s drestier could not make it in one day. Stopping to rest was torture, but the horses could only go so far, so fast. When Fann’s horse crested the hill below Aslasdair’s keep, the rest of the group was lagging so far behind that Fann couldn’t see them anymore. The flag bearer had handed him the flag when the young man’s horse could no longer easily keep up with Fann’s. With that in hand, Fann had charged towards the keep as fast as his horse, Deahman, could go. He heard a bell tolling in the distance and hoisted the flag as high as he could without slowing his pace until he was nearly in range of an arrow. Then he slowed and looked to see how he was being welcomed. The gates were open. He could see armed men on the ramparts, but none seemed to be ready to fire on him. He slowed Deahman to a canter as he passed through the gates and dropped the flag to the guard as he passed through. There was nobody on the castle steps so Fann scann
A week later the healer said Eleanor was healed enough to ride, so she sat in front of Fann on his horse as they left MacLoud land. Her head was on his chest and her eyes drifting closed in the late summer heat and steady motion of the horse when she heard him speaking to her. His breath was hot on her hair.“Did you unstitch the spot on your dress as I asked?” “Of course, even though you would not tell me why such a hole is needed. It makes me worry though, that it will open and someone will see my undergarments.”“Your bloomers are the same colour as your skirt. Nobody will know.” She felt his hand on her leg and looked down to see it sliding through the hole on the side. He squeezed her thigh through her bloomers. “Open your legs a wee bit. I’m going to show you what the slit was for.” Eleanor glanced around, but the other men were a ways off and didn’t seem to have heard him or to be paying them any attention at all. She looked up at her husband and saw the glint that always came
Eleanor sat on Storm’s back, alone, to ride the last of the trip onto her homeland. Fann had suggested it. Insisted on it actually, saying that although Beck was pretty Storm would be a statement of her position and power. When she challenged his change of mind on letting her ride her stallion alone Fann had grudgingly admitted that he wanted her on the fastest horse in the country if someone attacked and they found they needed to run, and he wasn’t going to be sitting behind to crush her again.She looked down at her new devantiere. Fann said this pattern was the MacDonald plaid, though she was certain she had never seen it before. She wasn’t sure she liked the pattern over much, but Fann did. Or he was proud that it marked the can as one at least. Apparently, most of their clan wore this already. He certainly liked the slit in the side and the fact that her bloomers had been made to match. She felt herself blush at the thought of how many times he’d brought her to climax in these pa
As they snaked their way slowly, single file through the bush, Eleanor’s eyes kept wandering. Surely she had played in this bush as a child. Why was not one thing even remotely familiar to her? There were old stone walls she felt she should have known. They looked to be the perfect place for a young child to explore and create great games. Huge trees with gnarled bark that were far older than her surrounded them on all sides. Yes, they would be bigger now, but she had also been smaller so something should have been at least somewhat familiar. Then again, when she thought about her childhood she didn’t have the adventure stories to tell that Fann had. Most of her days had been spent inside the walls of the keep, only wishing she could go outside. She felt a prickle on her neck and Storm bobbed his head, chuffing a bit. Glancing around she caught a small movement and flash of blue near the ground to her left. She pulled Storm to a stop trying to see it better. The man behind her stopped