Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

C iara emerged from the forest and paused, taking in the sight before her. She’d, of course, heard of the Highland Games before, but had never thought she’d actually be able to see them for herself. More people than she had ever seen in one place milled about and even from where she was at the edge of the forest, Ciara could hear the laughter and music. It looked and sounded like everybody was having a great time. And if there was one thing Ciara had always loved, it was a festive party. Of course, the reason she was there in the first place tempered her excitement.

She nudged the horse forward and approached the gathering warily, cutting her eyes left and right, doing all she could to see everywhere all at once. Ciara knew that her father and Lord Fairfax would stop at nothing to secure her return and that once they did, her life as she knew it would be over. No, they wouldn’t kill her. But they would force her to marry the Englishman, which would be almost the same thing. Actually, as Ciara thought about it further, she decided it would be worse and within a fortnight, would likely be wishing they had killed her.

Ciara found a stable at the edge of the town and climbed down off her horse. A boy who had seen just twelve or thirteen summers stepped forward and looked at her disinterestedly.

“It’ll be two coppers tae board yer horse here,” the boy told her. “It’ll be three if ye want oats and water.”

Ciara frowned and touched the purse attached to her belt, lamenting how meager it was. Of all the preparations she’d made prior to escaping her father’s keep, gathering coins for her journey had been the last thing she’d done. And she’d done a poor job of it. Not that her father had left many coins lying about for her to gather. She had taken what she could find, but those efforts hadn’t yielded very much. She barely had enough to stable her horse and feed herself.

But she had no choice. Ciara didn’t know how long or far her journey would take her and she needed to care for her horse to ensure it would get her there. She pulled three small coins out of her purse and pressed them into the grubby hands of the stable hand. She pulled her sword off her saddle and tied it around her waist, secreting it beneath her cloak. After that, she slipped her bow and quiver over her cloak, settling it on her shoulders. The boy watched her with an amused glint in his eye, obviously not believing she knew how to handle either weapon.

“Fine,” Ciara grumbled. “Make sure me horse eats and drinks well, eh?”

“Aye. Ye and everyone else.”

“Hey, one more question. Dae ye ken where I might be able to make some money?”

He shrugged, his face still amused. “If ye can actually use them weapons ye got, there are plenty of skills competitions that give out prize money.”

“Great,” she replied. “Thank ye.”

“Can ye?” he asked. “Use them weapons?”

She flashed him a mischievous grin. “I guess we’ll see, eh?”

He scoffed. “Lasses cannae fight.”

A scowl curling her lips back over her teeth, Ciara moved faster than lightning, and before the boy even knew what was happening, the point of her dagger was pressed to his throat. She stared down at him with a maniacal light in her eyes. The boy’s eyes grew wide, and he trembled so violently, Ciara was half-afraid he was on the verge of soiling himself. It would serve him right.

“Still think a lass cannae fight?” she asked.

“Apologies, miss. I—I didnae mean naethin’ by it,” he stammered.

She stared at him for another moment then removed her dagger and in the blink of an eye, slipped it back into the sheath on her belt and pulled her cloak closed. The boy stared at her with a mixture of fear and respect on his face.

“I—I’ll make sure yer horse gets some extra oats,” he said.

“Thank ye. I appreciate that.”

Rubbing his neck as if making sure it hadn’t been cut, the stable hand led her horse away, grumbling under his breath the whole time. Frowning after him, Ciara pulled her cloak about her tighter and pulled the hood up. Knowing her father and Fairfax would be looking for her, she didn’t want to run the risk of anybody recognizing her.

She turned and left the stables and stepped into the mass of humanity outside. All around her, the air reverberated with the sound of laughter, music, and cheering. Despite the heavy burden she carried, the festive atmosphere all around her seeped into Ciara and brought a small smile to her face. She pulled her hood lower and walked through the crowd, searching the faces of the people she passed, half-afraid somebody would recognize her. She had no idea what the person sent to drag her back to her father’s keep would look like. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be paying her any attention.

The smell of a hundred different foods cooking saturated the air, making Ciara’s stomach rumble. She hadn’t had a thing to eat since an unsatisfying meal of berries, crusty bread, and cheese when she’d stopped for a rest the night before. What she wouldn’t give for a soft bed and warm bath. She passed by a table that was selling a bowl of roasted meet, vegetables, and bread that set her mouth watering. Ciara’s stomach rumbled so loud, she was sure everybody could hear it over the cacophony of voices all around her. She stopped at the table fingering her purse beneath her cloak and eyeballed the sizzling meat.

“Hot bowl of meats and veggies, love? Ye look half-starved,” the woman behind the table asked as she offered Ciara a smile. “Goin’ tae be two coppers.”

With so few coins in her purse, Ciara thought she should hold out. She thought she should probably forage for something to eat instead of spending money on it. But it smelled so good, and she was so hungry…

“Aye. Please,” Ciara said.

She fished a pair of coins out of her purse, leaving precious few inside, then handed them over to the woman who gave Ciara a bowl heaped with meat and veggies in a tantalizing brown sauce.

“Thank ye,” Ciara said as she accepted a larger than normal chunk of still-warm bread.

The older woman gave Ciara a wink. “Ye’re welcome. Now, go get some food in ye.”

Ciara smiled and walked away, finding a spot on the grass beneath a tree off to the side of the grounds. She sat down then enthusiastically tucked into her meal, abandoning all pretense of proper manners as she ate and groaned with pleasure. It was quite possibly the best thing she’d ever eaten. But then perhaps because she was so hungry, it simply seemed that way. Either way though, Ciara didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was getting something warm and filling in her belly.

As Ciara ate, she thought about what she was doing there. In her flight from her father’s keep, she hadn’t actually formulated anything resembling a plan. She knew she needed allies. She needed somebody to help her protect her lands and her clan from the reach of Lord Fairfax. And also, to help keep her out of his reach. The mere thought of marrying that cold, cruel man sent a cold chill sweeping through her. It was a fate Ciara didn’t want to contemplate. Which was why she had to succeed in her endeavor. She had to find an ally among the clans represented here at the games.

But what did she know about diplomacy? Her father had never allowed her to watch as he conducted negotiations, had never prepared her to rule in any way. He had long lamented the lack of any male heirs and made it more than clear he viewed her as nothing more than a chip he could play to secure his own power. By marrying her to Fairfax, her father would have the backing of a powerful and wealthy ally. He would have somebody who would be able to quell any uprising. Not to mention somebody who was paying him a fortune for her hand in marriage and through Ciara, a claim to the ancestral lands of her clan.

The thought of her home and her clan’s lands in the hands of an English lord turned her stomach. That her father would willingly auction her off as well as turn over her home and clan’s lands to the English simply to stay in power until he died, was infuriating. She thought he belonged in the dark cells below the keep for that sort of treason. He deserved no mercy for his treatment of her and his betrayal of the clan. It was a terrible thought to have about her own flesh and blood, she knew. But Robert MacDougal had stopped being her father a long time ago.

Movement in her peripheral vision sent a bolt of adrenaline shooting through her. Ciara reached for her dagger as she turned and felt an immediate wave of relief when she saw a little girl standing there staring at her. The girl was dirty, her clothing threadbare and ragged. And as Ciara studied her, she realized the girl wasn’t looking at her, but at the bowl in her hands. A small frown touched Ciara’s lips, and she felt a pang of guilt twist her belly when she saw what little she’d left.

“Are ye hungry, lass?”

The girl’s blue eyes widened and were filled with sadness. She had a pale complexion and was gaunt, her tattered rags hanging off a frame seemingly too small for a girl who looked to have lived eleven or twelve summers.

“What is yer name?” Ciara asked gently.

“Isobel,” she said.

“That’s a beautiful name, Isobel,” Ciara replied. “Are ye hungry?”

The girl’s icy blue eyes returned to Ciara’s bowl as she nodded. She could practically smell the hunger and malnutrition coming off the girl and felt pain ripple through her heart. No child should ever go hungry. It was a belief she had always been passionate about, much to the consternation of Laird Robert. He had always tried to keep her from feeding and caring for the children in their lands. But he was always so concerned about looking bad to the clan that he never chastised her about it in public. He would rail against it in private, but Ciara let him rage and would go out the next day and give out twice as much food.

Ciara looked into her bowl, frowning at the scraps of meat and vegetables, as well as the crusty heel of her bread. It wasn’t much at all, but she handed the bowl to the girl nonetheless. Isobel grabbed it quickly and used the scrap of bread to sop up what was left in the bowl, greedily stuffing it into her mouth, seeming to be savoring every morsel like it was a fine meal. It didn’t take her long to finish and she set the bowl down and turned grateful eyes to Ciara.

“Thank ye,” Isobel said.

“Of course,” she replied. “I’m sorry it wasnae much.”

The girl shrugged her thin shoulders. “’Tis more than I’ve had the last couple of days. Are ye nae here just tae enjoy the games?”

“Nae. I’m nae here fer the games.”

“Then what are ye here fer?”

Ciara offered the girl a smile.

“Well, right now, I need tae figure out how tae make some coin,” Ciara said. “I need a bath and a bed for the night.”

Isobel touched Ciara’s bow gently. “Can ye shoot?”

“Aye. I can shoot.”

“Then maybe ye should join the archery contest,” Isobel said. “They say ye can win some coin if ye can win the contest.”

A contest of skill? That was something she could do—and win.

“Where is this archery contest, lass?”

The girl pointed. “On the other side of the pond.”

“Excellent,” Ciara said. “Thank ye, Isobel.”

“Thank ye for the food.”

Ciara tipped her a wink. “If I manage tae win the contest, I’ll buy ye some supper.”

Isobel’s face lit up and a wide smile stretched her lips. Ciara got to her feet and picked up her things, slinging her bow over her shoulders and settling the sword and dagger sheaths on her hips. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and with a final smile to Isobel, she started off, merging into the crowd milling around the grounds, laughing with each other as they enjoyed a day that, despite being frigid, was clear and beautiful. The mood was celebratory and infectious and somehow made Ciara feel lighter, despite her current dire circumstances.