“Are you certain you want to leave him here?”
James turned at the approach of his father. “Aye. Let him live a docile life for he’s done his duty.”
“That’s commendable of you, lad. Spring is coming. It was a harsh winter. I long to see green fields again.”
He nodded. It had been a long winter, most of which he’d been confined to bed. James was filled with joy the day his mother and Emlyn allowed him out of it. He used the thick stick his father had carved for him to lean upon. His leg hadn’t healed and he needed assistance to walk. Although it pained him still, he forwent the desire to rest it as he should.
“Grey will be calling me back soon.”
“I suppose he will. I want ye to know that I’m glad you came and that we spent this time together.”
James retook his position by the fence and leaned on it. “There’s no need to explain. I shouldn’t have been so affronted when you came to the keep. You surprised me by risking your life, for many of the Gunns still hold ye in contempt.”
“Let me speak my peace. I did try to kill my own brother and not a day goes by that I don’t thank God I wasn’t successful. He was more a laird than I could’ve ever been. I knew that then and now. And so is his son. You respect him. If you did not, you would not be so loyal.”
“I do respect him. As much as I would return here, I have my duty and I cannot let Grey down.”
Emlyn came from his parent’s cottage. She held a bow in her hands and approached. Her stride intent, he wondered what she was about.
“Where do ye think you’re going?”
“I need to practice if I’m to master the bow. I can’t seem to get it right.” She marched toward the stable. “Your father set a target for me.”
He raised a brow at his father. “You encourage her.”
“Mayhap. I’m off to see what Alys is up to.” His father ambled away with a wide grin on his face.
James trailed after Emlyn and when he got to the stable, he saw the sack sitting on a block of wood afar. Emlyn set her bow and arrow, and she missed the target. He would’ve laughed, but she appeared to take the matter seriously, and he wouldn’t cause her affront. After watching her for five minutes, he grew impatient. “You’re doing it all wrong. Who taught you to shoot arrows?”
“My brother Griffen did. He is the best at it and taught me.”
“If he’s the best, your father’s archers must be …” James groaned, unable to say what he was really thinking. He approached her and stood behind her. His positioned his cheek next to hers. “Forget everything your brother bespoke.”
She turned and her lips were a scant away from his. James wanted to kiss her, but she turned back to face the target. “What do you know about arrows?”
He laughed. “I know a wee bit about it. Now keep your eyes ahead. Set your arrow and lift it until it is in line with your nose. Aye, now you need to lift your elbow.” He’d set his hands on her waist and turned her so she was standing sideways. He nudged her elbow with his hand. James moved closer, pressing his body against hers.
She turned again and leaned her head against his chest. “I fear I will never get the hang of this.”
“You will. Set again.”
Emlyn turned sideways, raised the bow until the arrow was in line with her nose. She raised her elbow and pulled back on the arrow. “Akin to this?”
“Aye, now use your sight to position the tip of the arrow with where you want it to strike. Keep still and pull the arrow back. Release it when you’re ready.”
She did as he instructed and released the arrow. It hit the sack and actually made it fall from its perch on the log.
“Good shot, lass.”
Emlyn turned in his arms and kissed him. It was the kind of kiss he’d wished for in the past few days, and he pulled her against him. James had spent much time considering his dilemma with her and the more he thought of it the more befuddled he became. But she damn well tormented him with her bonny body and sweet lips.
She pulled back and whispered, “I did it.”
“Aye. Just remember what I told ye and you’ll hit the target every time.”
“I will.”
His father approached and shouted. “James, come.” His held his hand above his eyes, shielding the glare from the snowy field and looked far off. “Someone comes.”
James turned and peered behind him. Upon the hillside he saw the riders advancing. Several only approached the farthest wall and one lone rider moved forward. As the man got closer he could tell who it was. “It is Gordy. He must have a message from Grey.”
When Gordy reached them, he continued to sit his horse. “James, I’ve a message for you.”
Emlyn stood next to him, smiling at the young soldier. “Gordy, how goes it?”
“Milady,” he said and bowed his head. “It goes as well as it can. Darned cold though. I’m happy spring is coming.”
“Aye, me as well.”
“Can we dispense with the pleasantries? Where’s the message?” James held out his hand. He would’ve laughed at the young soldier, but kept a serious demeanor.
“Apologies, James, I just can’t help looking at her. Ah, here’s the message.” Gordy handed the missive to him and bowed his head again.
“You can cease looking at her. You’ve your duty and have no time for such cosh.”
“Aye, you’re right. I’ll be off. Good day, all.” He kicked his horse’s haunches and trotted off to the awaiting sentry in the field.
James watched him retreat until he disappeared beyond the hill. He used the wood and leaned on it and hobbled toward the cottage. He sat upon the bedding and pulled the covering aside of the window casement to afford light. Emlyn came inside and sat next to him.
“What does it say? And since when do you know how to read?” She tried to take the missive from him, but he held onto it firmly.
“We learned with Grey when we were lads. All of us, even Duff, knows how to read.” James held the missive up and started to read it. He knew his expression changed, for Emlyn leaned closer and tried to read it, but he kept it close.
“James, please. Don’t keep me in suspense. What does Laird Gunn say?”
“I’m not sure I should tell ye. It will only cause your worry.”
“I don’t worry, James, I take action. Now speak of it.” Emlyn set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him.
She’d thrown his words back at him and he remembered saying that to her once. James sighed. “Our king is angry that your father did not abide by the pact that Marshall requested. He claims Marshall is offended that he was duped by both you and your father. He deems he will seek retribution.”
“Oh, nay. He must have realized … What will happen?”
James raised his eyes and looked at her bonny face. “War.”
“It is what my father wanted. I won’t hold guilt for it, for he wanted Marshall to come.”
“You see, my lovely, before Marshall was content with the petty attacks and their back and forth plundering. Now it is more than that. His honor is at stake and he want’s retribution and won’t hold back until he is appeased. The attacks will be fiercer and dire. Many will die.”
Emlyn rose off the bedding. “I should return home.”
“What can you do? Do not be ridiculous. I won’t allow you to return home, Emlyn, not to fight the war your father insisted upon. Let him deal with the consequences.”
She turned and looked ireful. “I shall return home. You have no right to tell me otherwise. My family is in jeopardy and it is because of me. I will have to go to Marshall then and make amends, soothe his honor.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” James tried to move off the bed, but his leg pained him and he leaned against the chair. “I will not have you endangering yourself. Is that not why we brought you here to begin with? What we risked everything for?”
“I will take to war. I am a warrior and you should know I hold as much honor.”
James laughed. “You’re bonny when you’re talking nonsense. What know you of being a warrior? Have you ever fought in a war? Do you know what it’s like to actually kill a man with your sword, with your bare hands? How your hand wanes from the weight of him when he meets his maker? How his blood soils you and stays with you for days, weeks. How you know a life was taken for a political dealing that likely wouldn’t affect your life or his?” By the time James finished his tirade, his nose flared with his hastened breath.