Page 42 of The Hawk Laird
“Aye. And quite alive, despite what Sir Ralph Leslie told you.”
“You heard what the knight said?” Alice stared at him.
“Some. We were hiding in the fern brake.” James went to Isobel’s horse and helped her dismount, lifting her down quickly. She turned to face his formidable aunt.
“A weary pair of travelers,” Alice said. “Where did you find that gos?”
“A long tale, Alice,” James said.
“And I shall hear all of it,” she said briskly, then turned toward Isobel. “Tcha,look at you, poor lass. Pale as a dove, and just as bonny.” She gathered her into the warm circle of her armsand then ushered her toward the door while James fetched the hawk. “Is your arm wounded, lass? And you’re limping.” Alice turned toward James. “How did that happen?”
“Arrowshot,” James said.
“Lord save us! An arrowshot lady, a raggedy hawk, and Scots and Southrons searching for you both.” Alice shook her head. “This lass is so weary she can hardly stand.”
“And so I brought her here. I knew you would take us in without too many questions.”
“Oh, you ought to be questioned, you great brigand!” Alice burst out. “How could you allow a lady to be so mistreated?” She scowled at the goshawk. “Is that gos trained? He has a wild look to him.”
“He’s part wild,” James said.
“Then be wary of Ragnell if you bring him inside. You’d best put him in the mews when you look to those stolen horses. I know English horseflesh when I see it,” she added crisply.
James hid a smile. “Aye, Alice.”
“And do not smile at me. I lied for you this day, laddie, said I never saw you and pretended I knew nothing about Janet. The only sins I commit are wee lies for you. Pray heavenly forgiveness for me, will you.”
“I will,” he said. Isobel saw his affectionate smile.
Alice grunted in answer and escorted Isobel inside the cottage, where the dimness was relieved only by the glow of a fire in a floor hearth. Alice led Isobel to a flat-topped wooden chest, where she sat.
The moment James crossed the threshold, Isobel heard a shriek and the rapid flutter of wings. In a dark corner of the room, a hawk on a tall perch fell backward in a resounding bate.
On James’s fist, the tiercel did the same, as if the other hawk had frightened the wits out of him. James extended his arm to give the goshawk space for his tantrum.
“Benedicite,” Alice said. “That gos has startled her, and I just got her calmed down from the last visitors.” She bustled toward the perch and spoke soothingly to the agitated bird.
Isobel sat and watched, blinking from one hawk to the other, from one owner to the other. Alice’s hawk was a large female red-tailed hawk, brown with a bright russet tail. The tiercel was smaller, but his fit was equally tempestuous. Both Alice and James waited with supreme patience until their bating hawks slowed.
When the tiercel calmed, James lifted him back to his fist. Isobel glanced at the female, who still hung upside down from her jesses, gradually slowing her wings to an occasional twitch.
“Ragnell’s making this into a ceremony,” James remarked.
“She should have been a mummer, much as she loves to perform.” Alice heaved the hawk onto the perch. “Wee spoiled bird,” she murmured, stroking the puffed breast feathers. “Useless bonny bird.”
Ragnell chirred to her mistress and clenched the wooden perch with her feet, or what she had of them. Isobel saw with surprise that part of the bird’s left leg was made of silver. The false foot, strapped around her leg, was shaped into a set of talons that slid over the perch.
“She’s missing a foot?” she asked in surprise.
“Since she was a brancher,” Alice said. “’Tis why she is so spoiled, see. We coddled her, and now she rules us.”
James came closer, cautiously balancing the goshawk. “Hush, Lady Ragnell. I brought a friend.”
“Be polite, you silly bird,” Alice told her hawk. “I do not want to hood you, though ’twill calm you. Gentle, now.” She turned to fix James with an intent stare.
“Ho,” James said, holding up his hand. “I know that look.”
“Aye, I want the truth,” Alice said. “Why is Sir Ralph Leslie looking for you? Does he hold Janet for ransom now? And that gos needs a hood. He keeps staring at Ragnell.”
