Page 3 of Hold Fast

“You’re all riled. Restless.Angry. I can work with that.”

She’d narrowed her eyes. “And what will you want in return?”

“Nothing. Nae conditions. You’re angry. Sometimes, the best way to move that anger out and on is to strike something. But first, the dagger,” he said, pulling a small knife out of his boot and flipping it, deftly catching the blade between his thumb and forefinger, holding the handle out to her.

Now, as she nocked the next arrow, she remembered the first time she’d held a bow in her hands, how hard she’d struggled to pull the string, how Blair had made her draw it back, unloaded, over and over until her fingers bled, to build her strength. She’d had to lie about picking herbs in bramble to explain away the bloody fingertips.

The third arrow slid neatly into the target’s center. Blair whistled softly through his teeth.

“You began your courses today? Does that mean you’re out of danger?” His voice was low, just in case. It was a traitorous question after all, though not as traitorous as the answer.

“I willnae stop the fennel, just to be certain, but it certainly hints at that.”

She went for the last arrow in her quiver.

“Do you have enough? Fennel?”

“Aye,” she said. “I do.”

A fact that was entirely due to Blair’s help. Blair had planted the fennel in a sunny spot away from the keep, and tended it, harvesting it carefully and hiding it here for her to bring back to the keep in her satchel along with her other herbs and medicines.

She owed Blair everything. For the fennel which, when prepared correctly, was a strong contraceptive. For the lessons in archery and blade work. For the friendship.

“I am happy for you, Una. At least one of us will escape this place,” he said before he walked the distance to the target to retrieve the arrows.

As she watched his back moving away, a thought formed. Another dangerous, traitorous thought.

What if Blair escaped, too? What if he came with her? What if…

Her mind raced, considering possibilities.

As Blair approached, arrows clenched in his fist, Una whispered, “Blair. You need to come with me.”

He snorted. “You’re off yer head.”

“Nay,” she hissed. “You cannae stay here. You deserve better than this. Come with me.”

Blair thrust the arrows out and, when she took them, crossed his big arms over his bigger chest and arched an eyebrow. “Och, aye? And precisely how far down the road do ye expect we would get before there is an arrow in my back? Use your head, Una.”

She knit her brows together and bit her top lip. If they could find an ally. Or, at least, not an enemy, they could—

“The Stewarts,” Una breathed.

“What?”

“I’ll go to the Stewarts.”

“Why would you go to the Stewarts?”

Her breath was coming faster now, her heart pounding in excitement.

“Because I cannae stay here. I dinnaewantto stay here. And my da will just marry me off to the first man who offers for the laird’s castoffs. I cannae—” She sucked in a deep breath, the plan becoming clear in her mind. “I will go to the Stewarts. I delivered Lady Stewart’s babe just before the handfast. She told me if I ever wanted to come work there, she would take me on as her family’s personal healer.”

It had been more than that. Lady Stewart had begged Una to stay. She was an anxious woman, and the days after birth had not been kind to her. Una had stayed for three weeks, until the worst of the danger was past, but had promised to return if Lady Stewart sent for her.

Blair was rubbing his mouth now, the way he did when he was thinking.

“Aye,” he said. “You should go to the Stewarts.”