Mist Warrior (18 page)

“
Who are you?
”

“
Branan MacTavish, the true lord of Thistlewood.
”

The knight
blinked at him, glanced at Duguald
,
then chuckled.
“
I understand.
”
He dismounted and bowed.
“
Well met, my lord.
”

Good. He was quick of mind.

“
I am Sir Tristan
of
Greystoke and I lead a group of six. We are stipendiary knights and specialize in guarding those of noble rank. We pride ourselves on our professionalism and our skills.
My men are highly trained
,
but will not cause offense to nspaoffenseobility with repulsive behavior. We have come to pledge our blades to your service.
”

Branan arched an eyebrow in appreciation.
“
Greystoke
is a large holding if I recall.
”

“
Aye, my wife and children still reside there
,
but…
”
He hesitated
drawing a deep breath, his eyes flinty with rage.
“
Thanks to Strickland’s bastard, I am near destitute.
I make good money
as a hired sword
, but even that
will not cover the ever increasing amounts he claims I owe. If I lose my holding, my family will be
on the streets
.
”
He motioned to the three knights in back.
They rode forward.
“
These men, while
not part of my mercenary group
,
are my friends from holdings near mine. In the middle is Geoffrey with his wife Beth and
the other
two
are members
of his family. We all have suffered mightily under Strickland’s abuse.
”

“
Strickland razed
my
small holding a few days past,
”
Geoffrey said
as he
stopped his horse before Branan
.
“
I bring with me my cousin, Guy,
and brother by law, Alaric, we
also wish to pledge
our
blades in service to the true Warden of Inglewood.
With us are the tradesmen who worked in my holding,
we have nowhere else to go.
”

Greystoke smiled brightly and glanced at Geoffrey whose shoulders visibly relaxed.

Branan
extended his hand first to Greystoke as the ranking noble
.
“
We
ll met,
”
he said.
“
I offer ye the protection of Thistlewood. Ye are most welcome here.
”

Greystoke accepted his outstretched forearm with a strong grip of his own.
“
Thank you, MacTavish.
”

“
Follow my Uncle Duguald, he will help get ye settled.
”

The young knight nodded and signaled his men to dismount.

****

Over the next few days,
Catriona discovered herself drawn to the small area Branan used for his woodworking. She watched in amazement as he planed a large beam.

“
What's that for?
”

He glanced up and smiled, running his
hand
over the oak.
“
One of the beams for the new roof.
”
He straightened and motioned to her.
“
Look at this.
”

She followed him and he hefted a large support block.
“
This i
s one of the joist
s
. Even thou

Catriona gazed at the wood, her eyes wide. A beautifully carved angel emerged from the grain,  its hair, wings and garments flowing around the support as if it would spring from its perch at any moment.

“
Branan,
”
she whispered in soft amazement.
“
This is beautiful.
”

“
Thank ye, lass.
”

She looked around the small shed and saw more pieces Branan had been working on, a large table for the great hall, chairs, and many other items. Most had decorative carvings on them. They were not extravagant, nothing that would slow production of the pieces, but they were beautiful.

“
You have great talent, Branan.
”

His cheeks darkened a little.
“
'Tisna much, lass, but I do what I can.
”

“
Did Duguald teach you?
”

He nodded.
“
Our clan has a fine reputation for wood working. As soon as I arrived, Duguald and the other man began teaching me. I enjoy the feel of the wood.
”

“
Will you show me how you create such beauty?
”

He gaped at her moment.

“
What's the matter?
”

“
I've...I've ne'er had a lass interested in how I do my work.
”
His lips curved upward in a mischievous smile.
“
They only cared about the results.
”

“
You know this lass is different from the others and I'm intrigued with your art.
”

“
Art?
”

“
How else can I describe it?
”
She pointed to a large chair which had a charcoal pattern traced on it.
“
Now, tell me about that one.
”

“
Verra well, lass,
”
he replied.

Soon, Catriona was not only watching him work but helping as well.

The Hunt

Despite renewing her friendship with Branan, Catriona felt as if she fell into a pit of despair. Three weeks had passed since their arrival at Thistlewood
,
but her nightmares of the burning manor house only grew worse. She slept little and lost her appetite. It was as if a chasm of blackness threatened to engulf her. She joined in the work at the tower each day. Even though more people arrived at Thistlewood regularly, Catriona knew everyone was needed to help. But most days
,
she struggled to find the strength to rise from the bed. All she wanted to do was sleep - yet that thought terrified her
,
for when she slept, the nightmares became real.

Richard shocked her, visiting the camp every few days. Catriona did her best to avoid him. She was too weary to argue with him. When he walked in her direction, she usually went the other way. She found Gavin and Branan both watching her closely. Many times, if Richard continued his pursuit
,
either one of them would intercept him and distract him with a trivial matter of building Thistlewood.

Leastways
,
Richard, when unable to harry her, put himself to good use. Many times he stripped off his tunic and worked right
alongside
the other men. Why would he do such a thing? He was strong and fit, mostly from working with sword and shield. Although a business man, he never allowed his fighting skills to suffer. But other manual labors he usually tried to avoid.

The men worked to rebuild the tower and Richard joined them, hauling rotten wood, and moving broken stone. Was he trying to impress people
,
or prove he could work as hard as the next man...a man such as Branan?

One morning, Richard arrived and ma
naged to corner her. Catriona
swallowed hard and stood her ground. Branan and Gavin worked in the tower and obviously did not realize he had found her.

“
Catriona,
”
Richard said gazing at her critically.
“
Are you feeling well? Your face appears quite pale
.
”

She shrugged, keeping her attention focused on her work, gathering laundry for delivery to the washer-women.

He sighed softly, his voice taking a gentler tone.
“
My lady should not be so taxed with manual labor,
”
he said, crouching before her and putting a tunic into the basket.
“
I want you to return to Brackenburgh. You will be safer there.
”
He paused and smiled as if trying to make light of his words.
“
There is no reason why my betrothed should sully herself with peasant's work.
”

She shrugged.
“
I enjoy the work, Richard. It keeps my mind occupied. If I returned to Brackenburgh I would be driven daft with boredom.
”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening.
“
Catriona
—
”

“
Catriona?
”
Branan called.

“
Aye?
”

Courcy's gaze turned flat.

Branan flashed her a bright grin, shoving his thick forelock from his brow. She wanted to laugh, the action reminded her of the mischievous lad who escaped only rarely.
“
I need to speak with ye, lass. As chatelai
ne, we need to discuss the spinning and weaving
.
”