“One of the lads said he’d seen someone in the woods.” The boy pointed toward a small copse some distance away, on the other side of the field where the cattle had been held.
Kenneth and Callum exchanged glances and took off at a run, heading swiftly across the empty field toward the dark line of the trees. As they drew closer, they saw where hoofprints and bootprints muddied the ground. But whoever had caused the damage and left the prints behind, was long gone.
Clenching his fists, Kenneth stopped at the tree line, his breath harsh, fury tightening his every muscle.
“The swine is playing games he’ll regret,” he growled. He clamped his jaw with barely controlled rage. “And next time, he willnae slip away so easily.”
The forest swallowed the last echo of his words, but a cold, creeping dread settled in his chest.
Aidan was not done. And this time, he’d ventured dangerously close.
As darkness closed in, Kenneth left the crofters to finish rounding up the cattle. He mounted Arkan with Selene before him and accompanied Callum and Maureen back to the castle. A storm still burned behind his ribs. The futile chase across the field, the suspicion that Aidan and his men had released the animals and had once again evaded him, had wound his belly as tight as the new longcase clock that stood in the great hall. He needed to burn the fury out of his blood before he said or did something regrettable.
Once he’d assisted Selene to dismount, he strode off in the direction of the stables without saying a word. Callum dismounted from his horse only seconds later and followed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Selene turned to Maureen who was not far behind her.
“Where are they heading, with such purpose?”
“There’s naught behind the stables but the training yard. I’m guessing he and Callum both have some frustration around what happened they would like tae lose.”
“Frustration? I would call it fury,” Selene responded, shaking her head. She had felt Kenneth’s rage practically vibrating through him as she swayed against him on the ride back. He said little and she was content to let him be. She was only beginning to understand the danger Aidan posed to all who dwelled on Kenneth’s land. That latest incursion into Clan MacDonald territory was against all Highlander laws. It was an act of war.
“Come, dae ye want tae go see the sparring?”
Selene nodded, yet the suggestion brought a cold chill with it.
Sure enough, as they rounded the corner at the rear of the stables, they came upon a large area close to the castle wall. It was lit by oil lamps, yet even in the dim light she could clearly see the figures of the two men who were being joined by a third.
“The armorer and their trainer,” Maureen whispered. She guided Selene across to a timber bench resting against the wall where they could view the proceedings from afar.
“Having found, over time, that an audience is nae welcome, I stay at a polite distance. Any distraction tae the men in training can be dangerous.” Maureen gave a wry smile
Selene drew a sharp breath. “Surely they do not spar withrealweapons?”
“The younger lads use wooden sticks or pretend swords while they are learning. But me braither and Callum will mostly spar with bayonets fixed in their flintlock muskets and their broadswords, or with their dirks.” She cast Selene a curious look. “These are the Highlands of Scotland, Selene. The clans are forever involved in skirmishes over one thing or another and our warriors train whenever they can tae be ready fer whatever may come.”
Selene grimaced. After what she’d witnessed of the battle on the ship and the afternoon’s incident, she could well understand the need for the warriors’ constant training.
“They’ve nae long since received these new flintlock muskets from France and have been training in the use of the bayonet.”
Selene noted the sharp blades affixed to the long muskets and shuddered.
There were two filled sacks suspended from a wooden frame at the rear of the yard which Selene guessed were targets for the bayonet thrusts. The trainer who had joined Kenneth and Callum walked across and tethered the sacks to a small pole in the ground so they would not sway out of reach. Then he shouted instructions to the two men.
His tone made Selene shiver. He sounded like a man who was already facing the enemy.
“The throat,” he called. And two bayonets flashed in the lamplight thrusting toward the approximate place on the dummy where, if it were human, its neck would be.
They were both fast, but Kenneth was more so than Callum.
After brutal thrusts into approximate body parts – heart, kidneys, belly, the two men each took it in turns to wield a stick so that that their partner could practice parrying.
It was fast and furious, with blows being thrust into the unfortunate dummies.
Selene found herself rooted to the spot, half shocked, half thrilled.
