“I’ll go fetch something,” Grizel said.
“Nay, I’ll go to the kitchens,” Maggie said as she hurried from her bedchamber. She ran down the stairs to the hall and from there down another short flight of steps to the warm kitchens, where the cook and her helpers were busy at work. To her surprise Lord Stewart was already there, seated at the table where the cook and her staff usually sat.
“Good morrow, my lord,” Maggie greeted him as she sat down. Immediately a bowl of oat porridge was put before her. Maggie spooned a bit of honey into it and poured in some heavy golden cream before she began to eat enthusiastically.
“Yer up early,” he remarked.
“We’re hunting,” she said matter-of-factly. “The beasties are up too, my lord.”
The cook plunked a hot cottage loaf on a wooden board between them with a knife and a tub of butter. She cut two wedges, handing them each one.
“Have ye some hard-boiled eggs and bread for us to take?” Maggie asked the cook.
“Aye, my lady, and a bit of cheese and apples as well,” the cook answered her. “Iver took it to pack up in the saddlebags.”
“Iver?” Maggie looked confused.
“My captain,” Lord Stewart said as he smeared butter across his bread with his big thumb.
“Oh, aye,” Maggie said, remembering. “We’ve got to do something more to integrate your men with our men, my lord. They have kept apart from each other since ye arrived.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “ ’Tis a knotty situation, madam, but it must be corrected. The captain of this keep’s men-at-arms is not a young man, but I have already seen he has earned his position by being good at what he does. Would he consider accepting Iver as his second in command? Or does he have a man in that position already?”
“Nay, he does not,” Maggie said. “The problem for Clennon Kerr is that he is related to almost every family in Brae Aisir. He has several nephews among his men. They are his two sisters’ sons. How can he choose from between not just them but the rest of the men without offending someone among his kinsmen? So he has kept the authority to himself. I will speak with my grandfather when we have returned from the hunt today. If it pleases him to do so, he will appoint your man, Iver, to be Clennon Kerr’s second in command. Will that suit you, my lord?”
“It will,” Lord Stewart replied. Then he turned and looked sternly at the cook and her helpers. “There will be no gossip should you have overheard our conversation. If word gets out before the laird is consulted, and Clennon Kerr is consulted, I will know where to lay the blame. My justice will be harsh and swift. Do ye all understand me?”
The cook nodded. “I’ll keep all here as silent as the grave,” she promised.
He nodded, satisfied, and gave her a smile of approval.
They had finished their meal and now walked upstairs to the hall where those accompanying them were gathering. Some of the men were eating oatcakes and drinking from their flasks. It was the kind of meal they could finish a-horse. Seeing Lord Stewart and his companion, Iver signaled the men to move out into the courtyard.
It was still dark outside, but the edges of the sky were showing signs of light as they mounted up. With Maggie and Fingal Stewart leading them, they exited forth from the keep’s courtyard. The horses’ hooves made a softclop clopas they went. A pack of dogs ran by their side, yapping softly.
“Where are we going?” he asked her.
“There’s a small water near the pass entrance. The geese overnight there on their way south this time of year. They fly at dawn. We’ll be there in time,” Maggie assured him. “And there’s a boar that has been seen in the the nearby wood.”
They reached their destination. The sky above them was considerably lighter than it had been when they left the keep. Tethering their horses, they crept through the underbrush to see a large flock of birds floating upon the placid water. They could hear the soft cackle of bird talk as they prepared their bows, carefully notching their arrows, and then waiting patiently for the moment when the birds would instinctively fly.
The horizon began to show signs of blazing color. The scarlet and gold spread out along the edges of the sky. And then as the sun burst forth over the purview of the blue, the flock of geese rose up from the water, their cackling and the sound of their flapping wings making a great noise. The hunters stood up, and the arrows from their bows being loosed flew towards the birds. Some quicker than others rearmed and shot a second time. A rain of geese fell into the water while the birds that had escaped flew up and southward.
“Loose the dogs!” Maggie cried.
The water dogs among the pack dashed into the small pond, swimming towards the dead geese. Finally when all the birds had been gathered up and brought ashore, Maggie instructed one of the younger men among them to take them immediately back to the keep, where they would be hung head down in the winter larder until they would be needed for a meal. They counted twenty-seven geese among their kill.
“ ’Twas nicely done,” Fingal Stewart said to Maggie.
“If I couldn’t outthink a goose, what kind of a chatelaine would I be?” she asked him, grinning broadly.
“Still a beautiful one,” he told her, grinning back as she colored prettily.
“Now we have a boar to find,” Maggie replied, quickly changing the subject. “He’ll be more difficult, but if he’s young, not so wily as an older boar.”
They rode away from the little water now devoid of birds, directing their horses’ steps towards a woodland bordering the village. But though they hunted the morning long, they could find no game at all. Just before dark, they took a young stag. Maggie was not at all satisfied. She wanted that boar.
“We’ll hunt every day until we find him,” she said to Lord Stewart.
