Free Once a Warrior by Karyn Monk Page B

smoky torches, casting a glow over the revelers. The entire clan was invited to dine in the great hall that night, and to share in the food and drink that had been prepared for the Black Wolf’s army. The men arrived in their finest shirts and plaids, the women in their best gowns, and despite their disappointment in the warrior Ariella had returned with, the mood was generally merry. It was as if her people had long needed a reason to celebrate, and although this was not the great moment they had foreseen, they were anxious to take advantage of it. Musicians played bagpipes and harp from the gallery above, while jugglers, tumblers, and dancers wandered through the hall. MacFane sat at the laird’s table, as befitted an honored guest, with Gavin, the council members, Niall, Alpin, and Rob. Before MacFane had entered the hall, Ariella had vehemently protested this seating arrangement. It had pained her to see him standing in her father’s newly furnished chamber, as if he had a right to be there. She had no desire to sit with him tonight, and had asked to be moved to another table. Alpin had refused, leaving her no choice.
    “Don’t you ever wash?” MacFane demanded when he came to the table.
    “If you don’t like it, sit somewhere else,” she returned sourly.
    Angus, Dugald, and Gordon looked up from their trenchers in shock, unaccustomed to hearing her speak so rudely.
    “Rob has long been a stranger to soap and water,” declared Alpin cheerfully. “We expect he will outgrow his aversion in time.”
    Ariella sullenly lowered her gaze to her food. It was because of MacFane that she had to look this way. If she cleaned herself even a little, he might notice that her features were more feminine than boyish. She could not risk an outsider discovering she had not died in the fire. She told herself she didn’t care about her appearance. Even so, she felt strangely out of place as she sat amidst her clan, who were all freshly scrubbed and dressed in their finest.
    MacFane had brought paper, a quill, and ink to the table with him, and during the meal he rudely ignored everyone and made notes. Angus, Dugald, and Gordon were confounded by his conduct, which was clearly unbecoming of an honored guest. Several times they tried to draw him into conversation, only to be answered with a preoccupied grunt, until finally they gave up. Gavin, however, was eager to entertain them with tales of his adventures with MacFane. Each story grew more incredible than the last, until Ariella found herself irritably wondering if any of the accounts were true. A few times Malcolm raised his head and scowled, but Gavin continued, blithely unconcerned with the fact that he was annoying his friend.
    Before the meal was finished, Malcolm put down his quill and rose from the table. A hush descended over the hall.
    “Tomorrow we will begin to train and work on fortifying this castle,” he announced. “The men will be divided into groups so some can work while others are training. There will be four training sessions each day, and all the men will train for at least one session.”
    “What about the women?”
    Malcolm looked at Rob in confusion. “What about them?”
    “The women should also train,” the boy said. “They need to know how to defend themselves if they are attacked.”
    “Absolutely not,” stated Malcolm flatly. “I will not have women participating in warfare.”
    “It is our homes that are attacked as much as the men’s,” argued Helen. “We need to know how to help.”
    “You’re talking foolishness, wife,” said Gordon. “A woman cannot fight a man. Be quiet and let MacFane continue.”
    “It is not foolishness,” protested Rob. “While we were traveling home, MacFane spent time each day training me to fight. Because I am small, he showed me methods that do not require great strength.”
    “Teaching a rough, angry young lad and a delicate, gentle woman are two entirely different things,” pointed out Malcolm.