As he entered the center of town, his gaze searched the area to make sure the evil bastards who liked to tease him were not about. He stopped when he caught sight of something more important.
Behind one of the market stalls, a large piece of tarp had been set across a row of bushes to dry now that the rain had ended.
Loki needed that tarp. He took a few steps toward the stall, but the owner appeared so he walked away, vowing to keep checking on the prized fabric.
He trudged down the way and into the center of the burgh where more market stalls began to open up. He could feel a rumbling against his foot through the hole in his boot as he walked; soon a sound rose up to match the vibrations. It sounded like thunder, and he could see everyone else around the market felt the same. They all wandered about looking puzzleduntil the source of the din appeared. If it were a usual day, the cloud of dust would have been visible first.
But this was not a usual day in the burgh of Ayr.
A group of riders on the biggest horses Loki had ever seen raced down the main road toward the castle. He gaped at the spectacle of warriors dressed in red and green plaids galloping through Ayr. Each man had a massive sword strapped to his saddle or his back, sheaths and hilts gleaming in the sun just breaking through the clouds. He ran over to get a closer look.
Who were they?
He listened as two vendors began to discuss the sight.
“King Alexander said a couple of the clans from the deep Highlands would be coming to his aid. Haakon said he’s attacking with a fleet of galley ships.”
“How many ships?”
“I heard two score.”
Another man called out. “I heard four score. That’s why the savage Highlanders are here. Let’s hope they protect us.”
The man closest to him said, “Those warriors are from Clan Grant. Everyone knows the red plaids. They’re the strongest clan in all the Highlands. I’m glad they’re here.”
Loki took three steps closer until he could look the warriors in the eye. That was what he wanted—to be so bold and brave and to have a whole clan around him. What would it take to be a Grant warrior? He wished to be on one of those giant destriers, riding a majestic beast for all to see, his arms the size of tree trunks. One warrior smiled at him and tossed him something. He caught it, surprised to see it was an oatcake. He was so hungry that he nearly swallowed it whole before he recalled his manners, choked the food down, and called out, “My thanks to ye.”
There were more horses than he’d ever seen. Once they were gone, he moved closer to the three men chatting.
“How far did they come?” He had to know, because that was his new goal in life, to make his way to Grant land to become a warrior.
A savage Highlander.
“Half a day’s fast ride, at least. Probable nearly a day, lad. You cannot walk there. You’d never make it through the mountains.”
“Are the mountains big?”
“They’re a sight to see, for certe. I hope you get to see it someday.”
Loki nodded and moved on, knowing the merchant would only laugh if Loki told him how determined he was to get there. He made his way over toward the stall where he’d seen the tarp, disappointed to see it was gone.
A few moments later, he heard something stirring behind him and whirled around to face the same canvas being tossed over his head. Someone shoved him, tripping him into the material, and they wrapped him in the smelly wet fabric and tossed him into the air a few times, then tossed him into a tree trunk. Loki’s neck snapped back, slamming his head into the solid wood.
Stunned, he didn’t move after he landed, but his laughing tormenters unwrapped him, whipping the canvas away.
“You should pay attention, Loki.”
“Bugger off, ye surly arsewipes.”
“Arsewipe, am I?” The tallest one reached over and swung his arm out, catching the side of Loki’s head and snapping it sideways. “I’d keep your words inside or I’ll beat them back into you, wise arse.”
The second one guffawed. “Aye, fool. We saw ye drooling after those warriors like you thought you might have a prayer of joining them. Do you think the Grants would ever accept you?”
“They’d never let you step inside their curtain wall, you’re so dirty.”
“You stink, you’re dirty, and you’re naught but a useless bag of bones.”
“And you’re ugly too.”
