Whether her sisters believed her explanation or just decided to give up teasing her because the challenge was about to start, she couldn't be sure, but she was grateful when they turned to the field below. Their seat on the edge of a rocky hillside gave them a perfect vantage of the entire field below.
It had been Sir Arthur's idea to have the entrants not simply toss the spears at a different range of targets but do so in armor from horseback at a full gallop.
In his terse, matter-of-fact tones, he'd quickly and efficiently helped organize the different challenges. She suspected it was partly in the effort to be finished with her as soon as possible. What she'd hoped would take all day had taken only a few hours. He'd also elicited plenty of help from other men-at-arms, probably to avoid being alone with her.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to the field. One by one, the men urged their mounts to a gallop down the path and threw their spears at the straw buttes secured to a post. If this were the real Highland Games, there would be both spear throwing and thrusting. For the latter, a longer spear was used and the rider would position the spear under his arm in the manner of a joust.
The challenge was harder than it looked, as evidenced by the number of spears that went wide or fell short of the target. But a few of the contestants were quite good, including her brother Alan. She cheered along with her sisters when his spear landed with precision in the center of the target. Only Alexander MacNaughton, the keeper of the royal Frechelan Castle on Loch Awe, had done as well.
Sir Arthur brought his steed around to the start, and Anna found herself inching forward on the rocks. As did the other contestants, he wore a steel helm, full mail, and a tabard emblazoned with his arms to match his shield. All of the Campbell arms had the gyronny of eight in or and sable--basically a pie of alternating black and gold triangles--but his was individualized by the bear in the middle, a reference no doubt to the Gaelicartos, from which his name was derived.
He held the spear in his left hand, the reins in his right, and started forward. Being left-handed, he would be at a disadvantage. Unlike the other contestants, he would have to throw across his body to the target.
Anna's pulse spiked as he picked up speed. An avid rider herself, she noticed right away that he was an exceptional horseman. Strong and powerful, he moved with remarkable fluidity, as if he were one with his mount.
He neared the target.
Her breath caught high in her throat as, never hesitating, he heaved the weapon in one smooth motion toward the butte. It landed with a definitive thud a few inches below the center of the target. Her breath released in an excited cry as she joined the other cheers. It was an excellent shot. Not as good as her brother's or MacNaughton's, but it was still only the first round.
The field of competitors narrowed with each round. By the end of the third, however, the result was the same. Though Anna knew it was unwarranted, she felt a twinge of disappointment. For some reason, she'd expected him to win. It was silly--based on nothing but a feeling. He'd acquitted himself exceptionally well, coming in third behind MacNaughton and her brother.
Yet it was strange. He seemed to miss by precisely the same amount each time--a few inches off where her brother's or MacNaughton's had landed.
The men had taken off their helms and had handed off their mounts to the stable lads. Rather than stand around and accept the congratulations of the crowd, Sir Arthur looked as if he intended to follow his horse back to the stables.
Anna stood up quickly, wanting to rush down and catch him before he could escape. Perhaps she'd insist the top competitors join the high table on the dais for the evening meal tonight? That ought to make him angry enough for a few sentences at least.
She stepped around Mary, who was taking her sweet time getting up from the blanket.
"Where are you going in such a rush?"
Anna's cheeks grew hot. "I wish to congratulate Alan, don't you?"
She picked her way along the rocky path on the edge of the cliffside, trying not to look down as she silently urged the crowd of spectators down the hill faster.
"Are you sure it's not the young Campbell you wish to congratulate, Annie-love?" Juliana teased from behind her. "Don't look now," she whispered, though with the boisterous crowd it was unnecessary. "But I think he's looking at you."
Of course she looked.
Anna turned over her left shoulder and gazed down.
She sucked in her breath. Juliana was right. He was staring right at her. Their eyes met in a sudden jolt that reverberated like a powerful shock through her body. For the first time, he wasn't looking at her with indifference. Actually, it looked like alarm.
Too busy gazing at him, she wasn't watching where she was going.
"Anna, watch out!" Mary warned.
But it was too late.
She stepped on a rock. Her ankle twisted and she started to lose her balance (which even in the best of circumstances wasn't very good). Propelled backward, she stepped back to catch herself--which would have been fine if it wasn't the edge of the hillside and if the rocks hadn't given way beneath her foot.
"Anna!" Mary shrieked, reaching for her.
Oh God!For one horrifying moment time seemed to hold still as she hung in midair.
Then she was falling.
She could see her sisters' horrified faces swimming above her as momentum carried her backward. A loud rush of air drowned out the cries of the crowd and for a moment it was eerily quiet--as if she were in a strange, airless tunnel.
