A flurry, a bunching of muscle, a burst of speed, and Nielan’s sword went flying out of his hand to land embedded, point down, in the turf of the yard.
The onlookers cheered. They did, regardless of whom they had backed, because they were Gaels after all, and because it was such a beautiful thing to watch.
Deathan lowered his sword, breathing hard. What would Nielan do? Meet him with aggression? Had he made an enemy he did not need?
To his surprise, Nielan grinned ruefully and shrugged at the onlookers. He retrieved his sword and looked at Deathan with a new expression in his eyes.
“How did ye do that?”
Deathan shrugged also. “Practice.”Ancient practice, mayhap.“I thought ye had me there, once or twice.”
“Aye.” The onlookers, Nielan’s friends, after all, took it up and showed him admiration. But there were those who congratulated Deathan also, and eyed him with speculation not unlike Nielan’s.
Would he be able to convince another to take him on? Would a string of victories win his way inside the house?
“Come,” Ardroch said. “Enjoyable as that was—and I canna say I’ve had a better time in a fortnight—we maun get back to work.”
Aye so. Deathan followed him meekly back to the stable where he both lived and labored. He put his sword away carefully. He would do whatever he must to get near the woman he loved.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mistress Roisin returnedthe next day with a garment for Darlei to try on. She eyed Darlei warily and seemed unwilling to get close to her, bidding Orle instead to help her mistress try on the garment.
“Och,” she said in disgust when the garment hung on Darlei’s frame. “’Tis still too large. There is naught to ye.”
“Can you wonder?” Orle faced off against the woman again. “It is not healthy shut in here all the while. She needs leave to go outside.”
Darlei’s heart leaped. Was it possible? If she were permitted to go outside, she might glimpse the man she’d seen yesterday. Discover whether she’d deceived herself, and sheer longing had made her think she saw what she had not.
She might even be able to spy a means of escape.
But Roisin’s eyes narrowed. “So she can run like a hare? Nay, no’ with the king coming.”
But the mistress must have spoken to MacNabh about it, for later that day MacNabh’s old mother turned up at the door, a stout guardsman behind her.
“Ye’re to come out to supper,” she croaked.
Darlei’s heart fell.Not that, again.“Why?”
“Ne’er mind that. Ye will do as yer husband directs.”
Darlei exchanged a look with Orle and snatched up her shawl, though she could think of few things less appealing thananother meal with that crew. She hated leaving Orle imprisoned here alone.
As before, MacNabh and Roisin were already ranged at the table when the old woman ushered Darlei in. The room, though, had been cleaned, much of the random debris gathered and disposed, the rushes swept up and fresh ones put down over the stones. The great wafts of dusty webs that had stretched aloft were gone. As was a goodly portion of the reek.
Indeed, much of the remaining bad smell came from the current occupants.
“Sit,” MacNabh ordered Darlei without wasting breath on any other greeting. But he examined her closely. “Ye’re to eat.”
Servants began passing the platters. The food—pottage and a portion of greasy boiled meat—did not look appetizing.
“Are ye sickening for somewhat?” MacNabh demanded as he tore into his food. “Roisin says ye be naught but skin over bones.”
Darlei said nothing. She stared at her platter with dismay.
The old mother said something to MacNabh that Darlei did not understand.
MacNabh barked at Darlei, “Be ye sure ye are no’ wi’ child?”
