But to what end? Where would they go? Instead, she’d risen, and James watched her, giving her a small nod in acknowledgment. Tosia had returned the gesture and found Brigid at her side, ready to escort her to her meager chambers.
She hadn’t seen Tavish for the rest of the day — he’d spent his time at the stables or wherever squires were required. She didn’t know when she’d see him again. Hot tears burned behind her eyelids as she longed for her old life, for her mother snatched to soon from her earthly veil, for her brother always at her side, for her simple life filled with love and laughter.
As sleep swept her into its warm embrace, she wondered if she’d ever have that again, that measure of laughter? Of simplicity? Of love?
The week passed quicklyas Tosia busied herself in the kitchens. Feeding an army of men was no small task, and the kitchen maids welcomed her presence with open arms. The chatelaine set her to preparing and cutting vegetables in the corner of the kitchen near the hearth — early summer peas and vibrant carrots, kale and purple cabbages. Tosia found the work fulfilling. In her work, she was able to lose herself and not think on this strange change in her life or her dreaded upcoming nuptials.
She lifted the last cabbage from the basket and set it to the side. It was filthy, requiring a wash, yet more was needed for the stew. Vegetables thickened a stew well when meat was at a premium, but one cabbage head wasn’t enough. Tosia nodded to the chatelaine as she stepped into the gardens at the side of the keep, looking for more ripe cabbage she might add to the stew.
A shadow fell over her as she searched for any cabbage heads, and she whirled around, expecting Tavish, or worse, James.
Instead, James’s brown-skinned companion stood behind her, his long blue robes wrapped around his lean form.
“My apologies,” his penetrating voice intoned. “I did not mean to startle you.”
“Nay, I’m well. Merely preoccupied.” Tosia gestured to her basket, her hand trembling. What did James’s man want with her?
The Moor flicked his gaze behind her. “Preoccupied by cabbages?” The corners of his black eyes crinkled, and a hint of white teeth escaped under his lips. Tosia found herself almost smiling back.
“Aye, well, that.”
“Again, my apologies for the interruption. I had wanted to find you, introduce myself since you are to marry James.” He bowed slightly, his robes flapping as he moved. “I am Shabib al Massouri.”
Tosia lifted the edge of her skirt in a short curtsy. “Tosia Fraser.”
“The pleasure is mine. I have to admit, I was surprised to hear the king desired James to marry. Yet, it pleases me, as he is a man with a dark side that must be tempered. A fine wife is just the thing to provide a balm to a man’s demons. And ye appear to be quite the fine person.”
The reminder of her upcoming nuptials caused her to stiffen, and Shabib must have noticed. He tilted his head at her.
“Please know, I have been James’s close companion for several years. He has a reputation, yes, but he is one of the most forthright men I’ve met. He will guard you with his very life, give you a safe haven. He will treat you as fine as any wife deserves.”
The memory of James’s vow at her feet on her first day here echoed, where he promised to never bring her harm. She prayed the Moor’s words were truth. On the tail end of that memory, curiosity sparked. The phrasing of his words intrigued her.
“Is that why ye are here? Your own demons?” she inquired, suddenly more interested in the stranger.
His lips tightened, either in memory or to halt a smile, and Tosia wondered if she’d overstepped in her question.
“I was in France for a long while. I had left the Spanish peninsula after several harrowing events at the hands of my own people and my enemies. I vowed to never go back unless it was to slay everything and everyone in my path. Like James, I was grappling with my own demons.”
“And ye met James there?”
At her question, his tight lips shifted and became more of a smile. The expression softened the hard lines of his lean face, and Tosia grew more fond of the man by the minute.
“I can’t saymet. More like fell in with. I was at a tavern in northern France. The innkeeper wouldn’t rent me a room, as you can imagine, but he offered me space in the stables, which I readily accepted. I was bedding down for the night when a loud drunkard crashed through the doors, looking for a place to piss. He was shocked to find me, to say the least, and grew angry when he learned my coin wasn’t good enough for the tavern owner. He joined me in the stables that night and offered his companionship for the rest of his stay in France. He was the first man to treat me like a man, not like an oddity since I’d left Spain. When he told me his story and of his quest to regain his lands in Scotland, I could think of nothing better than to accompany him as his right-hand man.”
Tosia enjoyed the cadence of his speech and the tone of his story. He, too, was a broken man searching for his place in the world. He wasn’t so different than she.
“And now ye are sitting in the presence of the King of Scotland. What a strange path life has led you on, Shabib.”
His smiled tugged at his cheek, forming a slight dimple, and he eyed her intently.
“Much the same as yourself?”
Tosia stilled, a chill dancing over her skin even in the sunlight. She had believed herself so alone, and here was a man in much the same position as herself.
“Ye speak the truth. Being with James, being here, in service to the king, has it helped ye manage your demons?”
Shabib’s eyes dropped to the folded sleeves of his robe. “As much as I could hope. ‘Tis why I am eager for your wedding to James. It pains me to see him battle his own tormented side, and the rumors have only made that battle more difficult for him. It is my hope that your wedding will be a bright spot that he needs in his life.”
