Chapter Seventeen

Eli woke up the next morn with one problem cleared up. She was not carrying Alaric's bairn. The blood between her legs told her so.

She said a silent prayer of gratitude as she dressed for the day.

When she arrived at the great hall to break her fast, she was surprised to see Ysenda chatting with Maitland. Her sister waved her over so she joined the two. "Ysenda, ye are going with us?"

"Hell, nay. Never again. I did my duty, and I'm done. Besides, I truly think I am carrying."

"Well I'm glad I'm no'!" Realizing what she'd just said, her gaze darted to Ysenda's and Maitland's to see if they'd caught the true meaning of her words.

They had.

Ysenda grinned, and Maitland arched a brow at her.

"Do not ask. I was just reacting to my sister's comment. She might be, and I'm no'. And I had no reason to think I was. Enough said about that. Bloody hell."

"So do ye like Alaric?" her sister asked, still wearing a wide grin.

"Nay, and I wish people would all stop asking me that question. Why do they no' ask about Tevis and Wenna? They have their heads together giggling whenever I see them."

Maitland patted her arm. "Calm yerself, lass. We are teasing ye. Tevis and Wenna have admitted interest in each other, so no one asks. And they love to be alone. They do not protest when anyone brings it up. With ye and Alaric, 'tis simply conjecture, and yer temper about it makes it fun to poke. Ye are the only two on patrol who havenae found yer match."

"Have ye found anyone else to join us?" Eli changed the subject.

"Not for certes. Thea and Willum are considering joining us. They said they would let me know for sure before we leave on the morrow. I'm hoping Dyna recruits someone, but no one here is ready. And there really isn't anyone else to ask."

"Truly, there are others," Eli explained. Her brother for one, thought she already knew that her parents would not allow two of their children to be on the same patrol.

"There are, but many have no skills when it comes to a skirmish. They are of no use to us if they cannae strike down the enemy. Surely ye can see that."

She nodded. That point she couldn't argue. "I hope Thea and Willum come."

"I do too."

Eli's grandsire came into the hall, slamming the door as usual. "Menzie, chat with me outside, if ye please."

Maitland gave a quick nod to Ysenda and Eli, then left with Grandda.

"What do ye suppose that is about?" Eli asked.

"Probably another messenger from Sir James. Are ye truly worried about being attacked?"

"Nay. If Thea and Willum come with us, we'll have eight. We'll be fine. But I believe we should be no less than eight. Nearly a score attacked the group before. I dinnae like those numbers."

"Is Wenna going to be able to shoot? A shoulder injury could stop ye from shooting for a wee bit." Ysenda looked over to watch Wenna, then looked at Eli. "Are ye jealous that she has found someone before ye? Or do I sense a wee favor of Alaric?" She phrased her questions in such a low tone that no one else could possibly hear her, and Eli was grateful.

"She said she can shoot, that it hit the part that doesn't pull, and I believe 'twas a shallow wound. And nay, I am no' jealous."

She stared at Ysenda, her only sister. Why didn't she trust her sister enough to tell her the truth about her feelings? And what exactly were her feelings? Did she dare tell her they handfasted?

Nay, that would stay her secret, but she could talk to her a wee bit about all that had transpired.

"I do like Alaric better than I did," she blurted out before she could stop herself. "But if ye tell anyone, I'll twist yer nipples until ye scream."

Ysenda nearly choked on the drink she'd just taken then smiled. "I'm glad, Eli. Ye need someone. It changes yer entire way of looking at things, and in a good way. If ye are just starting to like him, ye'll see that it will get better."

"I hope so, but honestly, every time Grandda tells me he wants me to marry him, I get angry and refuse. And Grandmama told me the same, and I still refused. I dinnae know why it angers me so, but it does."

Ysenda chuckled. "'Tis an easy answer to that. Ye dinnae like being told what to do. I dinnae like it either, but ye were always worse about it. Ignore them and look at him with an open heart. Dinnae lose someone ye could love forever just for spite. Ye may regret it forever. I'll speak with Grandmama and ask her to leave ye to make up yer own mind."

Eli knew her sister was right. "Promise me ye'll keep my secret?"

"I promise."

The door opened and Maitland stepped in and strode over them. "Pack yer things. We're leaving a day early. Sir James said the English are coming. They are out of the castle in force and searching for food for themselves and their beasts. I'll send a message to Dyna to meet us on the road. Stop yer swooning, Tevis and Wenna!" he called to the lovebirds. "We need ye."

Eli was glad to go, but she had one regret.

She wanted Alaric with them. Now.

***

Alaric woke up bright and early, knowing what was ahead of him that morn. He dressed carefully, repacked his saddle bag in case they left early, brushed his teeth, then headed below stairs for something to eat.

Broc was finishing his porridge, waving to him as soon as he descended the stairs. There were still a few lingering in the hall, so he nodded to them and grabbed a bowl for himself.

Broc said, "They're waiting for ye already."

"I have to fill my belly first. We eat little on patrol." He covered his porridge with honey, then took two quick bites. "Who?"

"The usual. Alasdair was the first one there, so they told me. Be ready." Broc grinned, knowing it would be a good show for everyone when the two met. He chatted on about the lists, but Alaric was distracted thinking about Alasdair.

He had managed to avoid his cousin for a long time. He couldn't do it any longer. He chatted with a few others before finishing his food. His mother came over and said, "Come back to see us later? I hear ye are wanted in the lists. I may need yer help getting yer sire out here again. He hates staying in his bedchamber."

He stood, finished with his porridge, gave his mother a kiss on her cheek and said, "I'll be back to help ye, Mama. Whatever ye need." He and Broc headed toward the lists, his weapon clean and sharpened. He loved the Grant lists because he had so many fond memories of all he'd learned here. And all the cousins. Uncle Finlay, Alick, Paden, Broc, Uncle Connor, and Hagen. His brothers, Els and Jowell. But then there was Alasdair and Uncle Jake. No fond memories there.

He had to find a way to avoid Alasdair.

As soon as he stepped onto the training field, he was approached by three of his cousins—Broc, Alick, and Alasdair.

Alasdair looked like he could be Uncle Connor's son as easily as Uncle Jake's. He was the spitting image of their grandfather, though he did not have Connor's height. But Alasdair's shoulders were massive, which Alaric had always envied. His sire had told him to work out in the lists more, and he'd find the same would happen to him. And though it had happened slowly, Alaric's muscles had grown bulkier the more he worked. That was one reason he'd always been willing to spar, though he preferred to train the young guards.

But not Alasdair. After all that had transpired in the past, Alaric struggled with using his sword against Alasdair. It just didn't seem right. Alasdair had lost his father over ten years ago, but the circumstances of Uncle Jake's death stuck in Alaric's mind, as he was certain it did Alasdair's as well.

Jake had died when he'd been training in the lists. He'd just dropped to the ground, dying instantly. Aunt Brenna and Aunt Jennie had said his heart was too big for his body, that his heartbeat had always been off a wee bit. But had they said that out of kindness? He didn't know.

No one would ever know for sure why Uncle Jake had died that day. But the memory had haunted Alaric ever since.

Alaric thought of his father in the keep, struck only with the bad luck of a broken bone. He'd seen both his sire and his older brother struck down in moments. His feelings then had given him a new appreciation for all that Alasdair had dealt with.

He didn't wish to spar with his cousin. So he took charge of the situation.

"Broc, ye first. I'm ready whenever ye are." Then he'd spar with his Alick. He hoped the noon meal would be called by the time they finished, and he could stay far away from Alasdair.

He and Broc faced off, their blades ringing out when they struck, drawing a crowd of spectators. Everyone liked to watch any of Alex's heirs battle, because they were all so skilled. Which of them was the best swordsman was a common topic of debate in the clan.

Broc had improved quite a bit since they'd last faced each other, but Alaric still held the advantage. He was about to swing for another blow when Broc's ankle turned. He hopped on one foot, holding his hand up to halt the fight. They were using real blades, so no one wished to get hurt or worse yet, strike a cousin down. Alaric lowered his sword immediately and stepped back.

Alasdair said, "Step out, Broc. I'll take yer place."

And there was no backing out of this one.

Alasdair came at him with the famous sideways move of their grandfathers, but Alaric knew how to block it. The two blades met with a powerful clang, the sound drawing cheers from the spectators. The sweat rolled down the side of his face even though the air was chilled.

The two parried, one blow after another blocked, Alaric now heaving from the exertion of swinging his heavy sword, and he had many more swings than Alasdair had, thanks to his fight with Broc. But his cousin's breaths came as fast as his.

Alaric swung his sword over his head, but Alasdair blocked Alaric's blow easily. Alaric swung in a full circle and brought the flat of his blade against Alasdair's sword, catching it hard enough to knock his cousin to the ground and send his sword tumbling.

A figure pushed through the gathered clan members. Dyna, and she looked to be in a hurry.

"Alaric! We must go!" she shouted.

Alaric offered his hand to Alasdair, helping him to his feet.

"Well done, Alaric," Alasdair said.

"My thanks. Ye fought well, too." Alaric forced himself to exchange the courtesies, though his instinct was to sheathe his sword and run. Dyna's timing couldn't have been better, giving him an excuse to leave the lists and ignore the obvious truth.

While he was glad to see his cousin was hale and hadn't been hurt, in his heart, this challenge had convinced him of something he'd considered for a long time.

Alaric was cursed.