Page 10 of The Eagle

Her mother interrupted, “Ye do not have to explain. When lairds visit, the work is tripled. Go dear. We are well.”

After one last hug, Cait climbed onto the wagon and they continued to the village about an hour away.

“Ye live far from the keep. Do ye walk every day?” Anton asked.

“I do,” Cait said. “It is a long walk. Sometimes I am fortunate to come across someone traveling to the keep. Most days by the time I arrive, I am tired before my chores begin.”

“Yer brother is old enough to be a squire. If both of ye work for the laird, ye can ask to live at the keep.”

Cait shook her head. “I do not wish for my brother to become a warrior or a guard. I cannot bear to lose him in battle.”

“What would ye have him do then?”

She could not think of a reply. “I suppose whatever it is he wishes to do.” After a moment she asked, “What do ye do for Mister Stuart?” Cait liked Anton. He seemed pleased with his lot in life and had a pleasing demeaner.

“Everything,” he said with a wide smile. “I am his squire. I do whatever he requires. He is going to train me with the bow and arrow.” Anton held his left arm out and bent it at the elbow, flexing his bicep. “Always wanted to learn sword fighting. When I told Mister Stuart, he said I could never be a warrior being so slender, he suggested I consider archery.”

“That is a good idea,” Cait replied.

“Two of the Ross brothers are archers, Mister Ewan and Mister Stuart,” Anton continued. “Both win every competition. I hate that I will miss most of it today.”

“I was wondering what they were setting up for. An archery competition then?”

Anton’s head bobbed. “Aye, to keep the visiting laird’s son occupied. That is what Mister Stuart said.”

“They may wait until later in the day to start,” Cait told him. “The visiting laird seems to linger after meals.”

At that Anton brightened. “We will hurry in town. Ye willna be long will ye?”

Cait shook her head. “Looking for vegetables for last meal. That is all.”

It was late morning when they reached the village, so there was only a smattering of sellers in the village square. Thankfully a cheerful couple was selling peas and onions.

To the couple’s delight, she purchased all they had of each. She then noted they also had collards.

“Can ye bring those to the keep? Greer will pay ye,” Cait said sure Greer would agree.

“For the laird, no need for payment,” the woman said with pride. “The first of the harvest.” She tied several bunches of the leafy greens and handed them to her. Cait thanked them and walked toward the tavern where Anton had gone.

The young man and another older one emerged lugging large clay pots covered with rough fabric that was tied to keep the ale from spilling. Cait eyed other jugs that had been fastened to the sides of the cart. “That is a great deal of ale.”

Out of breath, Anton loaded the last of the pots with the help of the older man. After they secured them to the wagon to ensure they didn’t topple over, Anton finally sat down on the bench and waved to the man who hurried back inside.

“He’s the owner Tom, Anton said. “He added two more since it is for the laird.”

On the way back to the keep, Cait had to hold on to the bench to keep from falling at how fast Anton urged the horse to go.

“I know ye are in a hurry, but please slow down a bit. It will not do us any good if the horse breaks a leg on this uneven road. Or if the pots break.”

With a sigh, Anton did as she asked.

“It is still early,” she reassured him hiding a smile when he frowned.

If Cait were honest, she was also anxious to see the competition. It would be the first time she’d ever seen one at a keep. There had been games held by the villagers where she used to live, but they were usually not well organized.

“Are servants allowed to be a part and see the competition?”

Anton nodded. “Most of the time aye. Depends on yer duties.”