The drunk lifted his head. His face was red and swollen with tears and drink, his eyes puffy. His mouth was wet and slack, his lips trembling.
“I’m sorry, me Lady,” he said at last. “I’ll never trouble ye again.”
“Or any other woman?” Melody corrected.
“Or any other woman.”
“Good,” she responded, giving a short nod, and finally allowed Callum to tow her out of the darkness and back into the painfully bright light of the festival. Callum squinted at the lines of lanterns strung between the trees. Had they always done that? He hadn’t attended a festival in close to five years. He imagined that they did most things a little differently from what he remembered.
Still this festival was important to the locals. It was a chance to unwind, to dance and sing and eat, and reconnect with friends from different villages. Some locals spent most of the year looking forward to the festival, and he had no intention of ruining it for them.
A handful of the soldiers crowded on the edge of the party. Kat stood in the middle of them, ashen-faced, with Lucas beside her. Callum had, of course, brought Lucas with him when they left the keep, although he suspected that his friend would have preferred to be here already, ideally with Kat.
Kat took a step forward, offering a wan smile. “I’m sorry, me Laird. I did nae mean to lose sight of her, I only…”
“It’s not your fault, Kat,” Melody interrupted, offering the woman a reassuring smile. “Nobody blames you. We certainly don’t.”
Callum stared incredulously at her. “We daenae?”
“No,” Melody repeated firmly. “We do not.”
Kat let out a shaky breath and threw an uncertain glance up at Callum.
“Well, I brought yer whisky,” she managed at last, holding out a small cup. Melody hesitated, but took it at least, offering a weak smile.
“Oh… thank you, Kat. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for it, now.”
Callum ignored this and turned to Lucas.
“There’s a drunk man lyin’ on the ground back there,” he explained, gesturing toward the dark forest behind them. “He has a cut on his hand and on his throat. He would have done Lady Melody harm if he could. This is an offence in itself, and it’s an insult to me, since the lady is me betrothed. Take him to the dungeons. If he’s committed nay other crimes, ye can release him in a few months or so. But I want to be sure that he does nae make a habit of harassin’ women at festivals.”
“Aye, me Laird,” Lucas said, nodding. He turned aside and went straight into the forest, gesturing for a couple of the soldiers to follow him.
Callum turned to Melody, taking a longer look at her. Much as he hated the lights and noise of the busy clearing, it was certainly bright enough to look her over for any injuries. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t hurt. There was a ring of bruises around her wrist, and her braid had come undone and hung in tangles around her shoulders, but that was it.
“I believe I asked ye before, but I’ll ask ye again,” he said shortly. “Did he hurt ye?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine, Callum.”
“Good. Drink yer whisky.”
She hesitated, squinting down at it. Lifting it to her nose, she took a tentative sniff and pulled a face.
Callum bit back a smile. “Is it nae to yer taste?”
“It smells rather… rather strong,” she managed weakly.
He met Kat’s eye. “Well, the way to drink it is to gulp it all down at once.”
Kat narrowed her eyes, but wisely chose not to contradict him. She merely sipped her own whisky pointedly. Melody frowned at the amber liquid, turning it this way and that in the cup.
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. Go on, drain the whole thing, then we can get back to the keep. And yearecomin’ back to the keep with me now.”
“You’ll hear no complaints from me. I am glad to have come, but I’d like to get home now,” she responded.
Home, he thought.She called the keep ‘home’. Interesting.
