Page 11 of The Eagle

“How long have ye squired for Mister Stuart?”

Anton grinned and frowned in concentration. “Two years soon.”

Upon riding through the gates, Anton continued forth until in front of the kitchen entrance. Soon lads were summoned to help unload the ale and Cait carried her purchases into the kitchen.

“Ye must have flown to the village to have returned so soon,” Greer said chuckling. “What happened? Were ye chased?”

After placing the basket down on the table, Cait smoothed her hair and blew out a breath. “Nay, Anton was in a hurry to return because of the competition. He did not wish to miss any of it.”

“Ye poor dear. That boy has little sense,” Greer said scowling. “He follows after Mister Stuart like a little pup.”

“I must admit to being a bit scared I’d be bounced right out of the wagon,” Cait added good-naturedly.

Greer peered into the basket and gave her an approving look. “Onion and lamb pies will be most delicious for last meal. The peas will be a good addition for tomorrow’s meal.

Her eyes widened when a lad entered with the bundles of collards. “Where did ye find these?”

Cait explained about the couple and Greer nodded with approval. “They are good people.”

The cook looked around the room. “First meal is over, there is time for a wee rest. Everyone is outside watching. Ye can sit outside the side entrance and watch if ye wish.”

“Oh, thank ye.” Cait hurried out of the kitchen and down the corridor past the servant’s rooms to a side door that opened to a space where servants often went to rest. Cora waved her over to where she and Finella had commandeered a bench.

The west side of the courtyard had been transformed. A shelter had been set up under where seating was available for those who came to watch. Bright banners flapped in the breeze from the ropes that kept the tent in place.

At one end of the large grassy area were four large mounds that the archers often used for practice. The targets were propped on the top of the mounds and about twenty paces in front of them was a short wooden fence-like structure. This marked the boundary the archers would stand behind.

There was clapping as four men approached the short fence and stood with feet apart, bows held at the ready.

Artair Ross stood on the sideline and yelled out commands.

“Nock!”

“Mark!”

“Draw!”

“Loose!”

The commands were repeated three times. Meanwhile, those seated cheered, clapped, and exclaimed as the arrows hit the targets.

She had not lived there long enough to know the four men, so was glad when Finella told her the competitor’s names.

There was a hush as someone went to inspect the targets. Apparently, it was a Maclean who’d shot best by the polite applause.

The next group was familiar. Ewan, Stuart, Gideon, and the visiting laird’s son, Liam.

“Look at all the swooning,” Finella muttered.

Following Finella’s line of sight, Cait saw that it was true. A group of women waved handkerchiefs in the air calling out names. “Stuart! Gideon!”

“Where did the women come from?” Cait asked narrowing her eyes to see them clearer. “They are not from the keep.”

“The neighboring areas. I believe an announcement was sent to let families know about the competition. Several archers came to be part of it,” Finella said. “Each time Misters Stuart and Gideon are about, women gather.”

Once again, Artair called out the commands. This time there were louder exclamations since the women were overly interested.

Liam Maclean made a show as he paced the distance from the fence looking where all the women were. He lifted a hand to acknowledge them, and the silly creatures whispered to each other between giggles.