Page 39 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“Watch him for a wee bit,” No?l suggested. “And if ye don’t agree that he can fend for himself, ye can go back to wipin’ his arse.”
She gave him a shove for that remark, but it only made him grin. Then she peered past his shoulder at Caimbeul, who was already back to sparring with one of No?l’s knights. She couldn’t remember a time when her brother had looked so bright-eyed, eager, and alive.
It was a difficult decision. But she finally nodded her assent. No?l returned to the field.
Her knuckles were white as she clenched her fists in her skirts, resisting the urge to rush forward in Caimbeul’s defense while he dodged slashes from men with arms as thick as oaks. She gasped several times when a blade narrowly missed his head. And her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach when one of the knights sent him sprawling in the grass.
But then, in the midst of the fighting, No?l called out a few instructions. Caimbeul suddenly executed an unexpected spin to duck backward under one man’s sword arm, pushing him forward into the second attacker.
As the two knights fell in a tangle of chain mail, Caimbeul crowed in victory. No?l rushed forward to clap him on the back.
“Well done. Ye see? Your best weapon is the element o’ surprise.”
Intrigued now, Ysenda watched as No?l continued to train her brother with a unique style and technique. Of course, once Caimbeul began to improve and his antics were no longer amusing, the laird lost interest and retired to the keep. But Ysenda remained to watch in fascination, glimpsing a side of her brother she’d never seen before.
Gradually, over the course of an hour, No?l transformed Caimbeul into an impressive and lethal fighter. Even more significant, the Knights of de Ware became Caimbeul’s companions in arms. They challenged him, jested with him, boasted and cursed together. Her brother finally had friends who treated him as an equal.
Yet to what end?
Her heart sank. The knights might be his brothers now. But soon they would desert Caimbeul to return to France. Then he’d be left once again with clansmen who mocked him.
It wasn’t fair. It was bad enough that she had to surrender a perfect husband to her selfish sister. It was beyond cruel to make Caimbeul sacrifice his happiness as well.
She had never felt more like fortune’s foe.
* * *
In the shadowsof the armory, No?l unbuckled his sword belt and tossed it aside. He was filled with regret. As if choosing between his duty to his king and the dictates of his heart wasn’t difficult enough, now he had to grieve over losing a young brother whom he’d quickly come to admire.
No?l had never had a more enthusiastic and attentive student than Caimbeul. The young man not only learned fast, but he was clever and inventive. If only No?l had more time with him, he was confident he could mold him into a respectable warrior.
No?l slipped his tabard off over his head, then bent forward to shiver off his chain mail, letting it pool on the ground.
Behind him, he heard someone enter the armory. The uneven gait—the stab of a staff and the foot dragging across the floor—was instantly identifiable.
“I came to thank ye, Sir No?l,” Caimbeul said quietly, “for givin’ me somethin’ no man’s ever given me before.” He stopped in the middle of the chamber. “Hope.”
No?l’s shoulders lowered. Hope? He feared he may have given Caimbeul onlyfalsehope. What would become of the lad once the knights left? Would he go back to cowering before his father?
“Ye’ve made me see that I’m more than just a cripple,” he continued. Emotion thickened his voice. “I’ll never forget that. And I’ll never forget ye.”
No?l nodded and turned to Caimbeul. But he couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I’ll never forget ye either.”
However, another pair of eyes floated into his thoughts. Eyes that glowed like soft gray fog. Eyes that shimmered like the sleek silver sea. They were eyes he’d never be able to banish from his mind. With a sigh, he sank down on the wooden bench and hung his head.
Caimbeul limped over and sat beside him.
“Ye love her, don’t ye?” he guessed. “Ysenda?”
Too weary to lie, No?l nodded.
“And ye don’t want to leave her.”
No?l swallowed back despair and answered gruffly. “’Tisn’t my choice. I’m honor-bound to do the king’s will.”
Caimbeul shook his head. “’Tis my own damned fault. If I hadn’t told ye ye’d wed the wrong sister…”
No?l smile ruefully. “’Tisn’t like sparrin’, Caimbeul. Ye can’t feint and fool and deceive your way through life.”
