Chapter 1
Ireland, 1445
Dawn was just breaking over the countryside as a young lass stepped out of one of the many old, worn tents that had been built as a ragtag camp. Soldiers, one would think at first, upon seeing this group, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong. This was the temporary camp of the Black Bobcats, a mercenary company currently on contract with an Irish lord. The lass, only 15 years old, was pulling on thin, dark brown leather gloves as she looked around at others who were rousing themselves from their tents as well. As she stretched lean arms over her head, the morning breeze caught and gently lifted her auburn waves, fluttering them about her shoulders. Her gaze caught on a large man, full of prowess and authority, and already engaged in conversation with another, a serious look upon his face. Korren Tena, her father.
She rolled her shoulders, straightening the tan shirt she wore, which was covered by a leather vest of a similar color to her gloves. Stretching her fingers down to her toes, she slowly counted to ten in her head. She wore dark tan breeches, and thick leather boots. It was uncommon to find a girl wearing such things, but for the Bobcats, it was normal. As the lass straightened a golden band on her arm caught the light of the sun, catching her father's attention. She straightened herself, holding her head high as he approached her, his serious expression making her heart give a nervous skip in her chest. "Enda." He spoke her name, nodding in greeting.
Oh no. Enda knew that tone anywhere. It was the tone he used when he was covering up his anger. "Father, what is the matter?" She questioned carefully. "The dog of a lord refuses to pay what he owes us." A young man replies instead of Korren. Enda shifted her attention to her brother, frowning lightly. She didn't like when he spoke for their father. "Why not?" She asked, careful to keep her disdain for him out of her voice. Their father moved away, continuing his conversation with his second in command as Tarrik moved to block her way. "Because of you, you know. No one wants to pay the full amount when they find out we let a little girl like you fight." He sneered at her. Anger flashed in her green gaze as she returned her brother's sneer in kind. "Oh, I thought it was you they thought was the little girl." She retorted.
Oh, that got a rise out of him for sure. He growled, grabbing the hilt of the sword at his side and pulling it out in a smooth arc towards her. The sound of steel on steel filled the air as she similarly smoothly drew out the sword belted to her hip, meeting his slash with the flat of her blade, one palm on the other side of the flat of the blade, giving her more strength behind the block. No words needed to be spoken now. They would repay insults with steel. Her brother drew back and slashed again, aiming lower this time and she met his blow again, this time pushing his sword aside, spinning quickly and raising one foot so her heel connected with his exposed side. He grunted but came at her again, going high this time and she quickly slid under his legs, knocking one of his feet out from under him. She straightened herself, looking down at him as she waited for him to stand up. He snarled at her, feigning a blow towards her head before spinning to kick her feet out from under her. She twisted as she fell so she would land on her hands and knees and be able to jump up quicker, but had to bite back a cry when the tearing feeling of steel cutting through flesh stung through her back.
No man of honor struck a fallen foe. Especially if that foe was in reality your ally. She dug her fingers into the dirt as she heard a sword hitting the ground, quickly followed by the thud of something heavy. Korren had snatched his son up and threw him, enraged by his actions. Enda slowly turned to view the scene. A stunned Tarick stared up at a raging commander. Neither of them had realized he had been watching. In a similar state of shock, Enda just stared at them before tears welled up in her eyes. No… No she was so humiliated. Her father had witnessed such a disgraceful defeat. Korren snatched up Tarrik, dragging him away as Carrick, her father's second, knelt by her. "Let's get you bandaged up." He rumbled, lightly lifting the young girl and carrying her into the large main tent.
She sat in silence on a chair as her mother raged on about how she couldn't believe Tarrik would do something so disgraceful, and to his own sister, as she bandaged the wound that ran down Enda's back. What was she supposed to say? She'd been disgraced in front of the only man she wanted to impress. No… No she couldn't stay here. She wouldn't be able to stand the way he would look at her. She stood up so suddenly her mother jumped in surprise, and wasn't able to stop her as the lass ran out of the tent, snatching up her sword which she had left lying on the ground, and sliced the rope tethering her mare to the post before sheathing her sword and leaping onto the horses back. "Let's get as far from here as we can Arina. Please." She pleaded through her tears, kicking the mare into motion. She didn't care where they went, as long as it was as far from here as possible.
England, 1448
Three years had passed since that fateful day. Three long years in which I had formed a new life for myself. Currently I was in the employ of one Lord Colin Burick. Shaking the thoughts from my head, I dropped the load of dirty linens I was carrying to be washed in the morning into another pile in the laundry room. Dusk was setting in, and that meant I would need to be calling it a night relatively soon. While within these walls, I called myself Bella, to disguise my Irish roots as best I could, despite my auburn hair. Well, I hadn't been questioned yet, so that was good enough for me.
As I was walking down the hall to finish up another room I caught sight of the young Lady Abigail walking into the library. Well now, it was awful late for a Lady to be sneaking off for some reading. "Mistress, you should not be out at this hour." I called politely but my words fell on deaf ears as the door closed behind her. As I approached the door I heard the lock click and uncertainty gripped my heart. This was highly unlike the young lady. I hurried to the storage room beside the library, weaving through the items within to get to the window. Pulling open the shutters I leaned out to look towards the balcony of the library, frowning slightly as I glanced down at the drop. It was a good distance away, but if I moved slowly and carefully, I would be able to scale across the wall to it. Rolling up the sleeves of my light, pale blue dress, I mentally prepared myself. With a nod I tied the skirt of my dress in a not high on my thighs so it wouldn't trip me up.
Then, with a deep, determined breath, I climbed out of the window, clutching at the stones of the wall, gripping any grooves I could with my fingers, sticking the toes of my slippers into other grooves. I painstakingly made my way across the wall, my heart thudding in my chest as I heard the muffled cry for help. Moving a little quicker I just reached the balcony as the doors flew open. I swallowed back a cry as I quickly clutched to the railing so that I wouldn't fall back. My eyes widened as two tall, tanned, and muscular men, scantily clad in skirts, walked out of the library, one dragging along Abigail who had been gagged and her hands tied behind her back. By the saints, these men were Scottish. And by the looks of it, Abigail was about to be their captive. "Over my dead body." I growled, sliding over the railing. The first Scot turned towards me and for a moment my heart stopped in my chest as I was met by a fierce golden gaze, dark brown hair falling to his shoulders. The breath caught in my throat as my wandering gaze roved over him, admiring the way his muscles rippled when he moved.
The second Scot was just as intimidating, but in a rougher way. His dark hair was pulled roughly back, accompanied by a dark beard that brought out his brown eyes. He was the one who held Abigail's arm so tightly she looked to be in pain. I couldn't waste another second. Now was the time for action. Abigail's life may depend upon it. Thinking on my feet I grabbed onto a loose stone in the wall as, by some saving grace, a yell from below stole the Scots' attention. "You'll not take Lady Abigail!" I cried fiercely, lunging at the second Scot, stone raised. To my pleasure and dismay he released Abigail before turning to face me in surprise. His movement caused me to miss my mark, dropping the stone on his foot. With a cry of pain he stumbled back and I took that opportunity to give him a helpful shove, throwing his balance and making him fall over the railing of the balcony. I quickly looked over to see he had been hastily caught by another Scot who must have been waiting below. This third Scot called out quickly. "Laird!" And I was reminded of the first Scot, too late. His arm wrapped about my waist and I cried out in protest, bringing my elbow back as hard as I could into his side.
I heard a satisfying grunt as his grip loosened enough for me the pull away quickly, spinning to face him head on. I heard the sound of approaching hooves, but couldn't allow myself to get distracted. The first Scot lunged again and I dodged to the side in time to cringe as I heard a dull thud and a resounding protest from below. "Ye've killed him!" This served as a great distraction for the Scot and I was quick to give him a helpful shove as he went to the railing, sending him over the side but unlike the first he grabbed onto the railing. With a gasp I quickly retrieved the stone from before bringing it down roughly on his fingers, causing him to let go and tumble below with a grunt. I leaned over the side to see this situation, a sense of relief washing over me as I was greeted by the sight of three men and a wolf, surrounding the Scots.
Scots must have really hard heads, I mused before turning to face Lady Abigail. I quickly untied her binding before I raised my gaze to the sound of the door to the library being broken down. Lord Colin and a few guards came rushing in. "My lady, please forgive me, but I must go. Please thank his lordship for his kind care this last year." I spoke quickly, ushering her to the door before running to the railing and quickly scaling down the wall. I wasn't about to be mistaken even for a moment as the one who had attacked the young lady. As I reached the ground I turned to face the three men who each had a bound Scot lying on the rump of their horses. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight. Oh how these mighty Scots had fallen. I knew if I thought twice about this I would regret it, so I leapt onto one of the Scot's horses, grabbing the reins of one of the others as another man grabbed the last horse's and we raced away as quickly as their legs would carry us.