They stared when Ardahl came up, and stared when the chief’s wife invited him in.
The chief’s wife did not look happy. Visibly with child, she carried an expression that denoted strain, as if she had not slept.
The chief had two children, both young, and the fireside proved chaotic. Fearghal sat there trying to eat his breakfast.
He cast a look at Ardahl and waved a hand at one of the unoccupied rugs. “Sit down. Will ye ha’ breakfast?”
“Nay, thank ye.” Ardahl wanted to go home. To spend those precious few moments with Liadan outside the hut while he washed himself. To let her say the things she could not, with her eyes.
He sat, and Fearghal eyed him. “All quiet last night?”
“Aye, chief. A bit too quiet, if ye know what I mean.”
“I do. There is a quiet that feels like eyes in the dark, watching.”
“Just so.”
“Dornach has been to me. Complaining about ye drilling the women.”
“I ha’ no’ been drilling the women. Naught but trying to teach a single lass to protect herself while holding a sword. My foster sister,” he added deliberately.
The chief’s wife stopped bustling around the fire and directed a sidelong look at Ardahl.
“That is no’ the way Dornach tells it. He declares that furnishing our women wi’ weapons is admitting we cannot defend them.”
“Forgive me, and meaning no disrespect, but Master Dornach is wrong.”
Both Fearghal’s eyebrows flew up.
“The lass is frightened. She fought off some of Brihan’s men when they came—when we were no’ here to defend the settlement—and lost her mam anyway. I seek only to reassure her, at her own request.”
“And is placing a great sword in her hands reassurance?”
“Aye.” It was the chief’s wife who replied. “It may well be.”
Both men stared at her where she stood by the fire.
“Do ye think I ha’ not wished for a weapon, Fearghal? A hundred times I ha’ while ye were away. Ha’ I not armed mysel’ with a boning knife? ’Tis no’ a welcome feeling, being helpless.”
A curious look crossed Fearghal’s face. “Are we to arm our women, then?”
She put a fist on her hip. “Would ye rather arm us or come back from some battle to find us dead?”
“Bridie,” he whispered.
His wife turned to Ardahl. “I think ye do well, training this lass, if she wants it. Were I no’ wi’ child, I would ask ye to train me also.”
Ardahl said honestly, “I canna turn her into a warrior. But I may be able to still some o’ her fears.”
She nodded and glanced at her children. “Is a woman who can bear the pain o’ childbirth so weak she canna take up a sword?”
Fearghal exchanged a speaking look with Ardahl before saying, “No one would ever call our women weak.”
“Well then! Send the young man back about his business.” She gestured at Ardahl. “And let him get some sleep.”
Ardahl got to his feet. “Have I your leave, my chief, to continue wi’ some training?”
“Aye,” said Bridie.
