The castle seemed a bit strange in the past week and a half with laughing and giggling girls running to and fro. It isn't that they weren't used to youth running amok in the castle, Bors brood certainly did enough of that, the girls were just very different. They didn't inspire the same parental or brotherly affections. The girl Neely was singing constantly, and the twins bickered as if it was the only way they knew how to speak to each other. Well, either arguing or defending each other staunchly. Caitlyn McCree had been a tremendous help to Arthur, letting him know what to expect from each clan. When she was with him, or one of his knights she seemed to be at ease, but sometimes townsfolk, or someone else would approach and she became timid and fearful. It reminded Arthur of the atrocities that had been committed upon her. The second sister, Brigid, seemed extremely serious. She seemed to have a thoughtful approach to thinking, and though she spent time with the others, it seemed that she spent much time reading on her own. Arthur had been amazed to learn that all of the sisters read and wrote. It had obviously been something their mother had felt was important for them to learn.
To his knowledge Bronwen had not left the chambers she'd been in since the day the two groups had met. He didn't know why, but figured she'd go out on her own when she felt ready to. He was in his personal study when Dagonet entered. His friend was quiet for quite some time before Arthur looked up and noticed the grim expression the large man wore. "What troubles you Dag?"
"'Tis the Lady Bronwen. She is well, healed in body, but she does not venture from her rooms. At times I will enter and she will be staring down at the village and there is such a sense of loss surrounding her. It is almost visible to the eyes Arthur."
"She has lost much in her young life." Arthur murmured as a reminder.
"Yes, but it is time to start living again. Time to move forward and celebrate the future. Yet she only goes through the motions. She will not speak to me of what troubles her, and to my knowledge she hasn't spoken to her sisters. The Lady Caitlyn speaks with me frequently, and she is quite concerned for her sister. They look to her as they would a parent."
"I will speak to her Dag." Arthur offered and immediately saw relief enter the other man's countenance. "In fact I will go now."
"Thank you Arthur." Dagonet murmured, and they left the room together.
Once again Bronwen stood at the window staring down at the busy streets of the village. Two children were trying to lead a goat back to their home, and the goat was not having any of it. Seeing the stern look on the little girl who could be no older than four; her little hands on her hips, brought an ache to the woman's heart. Once there had been similar children in a village much smaller. Once she'd seen her people laughing and bartering. She'd been in charge of keeping her sisters alive for these last few months that she hadn't had a chance to grieve for everything they'd lost. Now though, now there was time to sit back and remember. Aye, and she remembered it all.
She knew her sisters were worried, but how could she reassure them, when she herself didn't know how to make herself feel less pain? Everyone in this castle had been kind to them. Even after their less than auspicious meeting. The kindness didn't erase the fear. When the MacGregors came everything would change again. Could she trust that King Arthur wouldn't be swayed by whatever the MacGregor told him? He was a man, and men, besides a very select few, weren't to be trusted.
Arthur took in the sight of Bronwen at the windows silently. She was a tall girl. Someone had given her a light blue gown, and it was fitted to her body falling slightly off her shoulders. Her jet black hair fell to the swell of her backside and was tamed into a long braid. Bronwen's hands were resting lightly upon the stone sill of the window. Dag was right, just looking at her profile Arthur could see something was wrong. "I've been told you haven't left these chambers since coming to us."
Her head tilted ever so slightly so she could view him from the corner of her vision. "There has been no need to leave."
"What of your sisters? They run to and fro constantly."
"Are they a trouble to anyone?" A slight frown marred her pretty face.
"Not at all. It is odd to have such energy moving about, but it is good practice for when Bors children are all grown up."
"My sisters visit me often." Now she smiled faintly. She looked down for a moment and then looked at him fully with a wry grin. "I must admit I'm a bit fearful of this place we've found ourselves in. Everythin' is so different from where we come from. I'm not quite sure I belong here."
Arthur joined her at the window. "Once we all felt that way as well; my knights and me. That changed." Now he faced her and spoke softly. "You and your sisters are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay."
"I thank ye for that yer Highness." Bronwen swallowed past a lump in her throat. "Everything we've known is gone. I don't think I really realized that until I was lying in that bed healing up. We're all grown for the most part, but Kerri, she's still so young. And I'm a poor substitute for our mother."
Arthur offered her his arm. "Come, let us walk for a bit."
He stared at her and after a moment of hesitation she took his arm and they began to walk. At the doorway she stopped briefly before stepping through. It didn't take them long to reach the outer battlements. He walked her along the stones high above the village, and for once the sun was shining and holding the much seen rain at bay.
"Has it always been as lovely as this?" she asked with her head tilted to the side in consideration.
Arthur couldn't help the faint smile that came to him. "No…Not long ago I couldn't wait to go back to Rome. And my knights couldn't wait to be free and heading for Sarmatia, or what was left of it." He stopped and leaned forward to look over the land. "They'd been bound to Rome's rule for fifteen years of servitude. We almost lost Dagonet before they were finally free. Several of my knights almost died in the last battle against the Saxons."
Bronwen leaned on the wall next to him, and she too reviewed the land. "Yer lucky that ye did na lose them all."
"Yes. I was very lucky. It could have gone many different ways." He murmured. "I became king, I married Guinevere, and we built Camelot. My knights, although free, chose to stay."
"Yer people look to be happy yer Highness, which tells a person much about the way ye rule." She was quiet for several moments. "I know about loss. Meh Mother was tending to the wounded when a Saxon took her from us. She screamed, and he throttled her with his bare hands. And my Da, I know he burned up in the fire, but na once did he scream. Such a strong man…" Bronwen turned frightened eyes to Arthur. "I'm na that strong."
"You don't have to be. Nothing will happen to any of you here." He assured her; not quite understanding where her fear stemmed from.
"Ye'll na always be able to protect us." she sighed bitterly. "The MacGregor will na rest as long as we live as McCree. He'll either want us dead, or he'll petition to absorb us into his clan. If tha happens, we'll be forced to marry those he chooses for us."
To Arthur's mind it seemed barbaric. Something to the effect of 'to the victor goes the spoils'. "Do you have other options?"
"Aye. But very few. We can petition another clan; it's possible my Uncle will accept us."
"That's it?"
Bronwen smiled sadly. "A clan's way of life might na make much sense to ye, but 'tis how we've survived as a people. Only now it makes my blood run cold and my bones feel brittle."
"There are many customs I must learn about it seems." Arthur looked at the woman beside him. "Bronwen, you are a fine mother to your sisters. You've already taught them much, and taken great care with them. No one could have expected better."
She tensed and stood up straight. Her entire body vibrated with anxiety. "There, ye see?" she asked pointing to a distant flash of something. "That be the MacGregor and his clan. Early as I thought. I must go. I must find meh sisters. I do na want the MacGregor to see any of them before 'tis necessary."
Arthur nodded once, and looked below. He let out a piercing whistle and Bronwen saw the man, Tristan, come into view. "It seems we have visitors my friend, find the girls and bring them to Lady Bronwen."
Tristan nodded once and melted into the crowds. Arthur turned and escorted Bronwen back to her chambers.
The gates opened to admit the clan MacGregor, and it seemed as if all held a collective breath. Arthur and his knights made their way to the small group in the lead. Three men in dirty linen blousing and blue and amber belted tartans waited for them. Arthur had thought the plaid fabric as a blanket of some sort, but Caity had explained that each clan had different colors which represented their families. Similar to a family crest. The plaid tartans served multiple functions allowing the wearers to move easily, and use them as bedding or blankets.
The large man in the middle, who was obviously the leader, had a haggard appearance. He was quite large equaling Dagonet in height, but was older and heavier than the knight. His dark hair was liberally streaked with gray, and his dark eyes were deep-set in his face. They flashed with something sadistic, and Arthur could well imagine the man killing his wives. It was obvious the man didn't fight as much as he might have in his youth because his body was turning to fat.
"Ye'd be the new King?" he growled in a deep guttural voice.
"That's right. I'm King Arthur Pendragon." Arthur said never breaking eye contact with the other man. Arthur could feel Lancelot and Gawain tensing beside him. It appeared his knights did not like these men either. "We welcome you to Camelot."
"Camelot?" The man's accent was even heavier than the McCree sisters. He looked around with arrogance riding him visibly. He said something to the man behind him in a language Arthur didn't know. It sounded similar to the tongue of the Woad people, but different enough that he couldn't even pick out words. The man turned back to Arthur and his knights, "We are the MacGregors. I am laird of the clan. Are we the first to arrive then?"
Something moved behind the man's eyes. Some form of calculating intelligence that told Arthur that this man was not to be underestimated. He had a feeling that it would only lead to tragedy if he did. "In a manner of speaking you are the first clan to arrive, although we've been assured that more clans are following, and are only days away. It seems you'll have your pick of camp sites."
A wide grin stretched the man's face revealing yellowed teeth. "Splendid."
"My man Jols will show you where you can set up. I hope you'll accept my invitation for you and your people to dine with us this evening." Arthur spoke formally.
"Aye. 'Twoud be our pleasure." The man smiled pompously.
"I'll send someone to escort you to the dining hall then." Arthur said pleasantly. "Now I'll leave you to get set up."
Tristan strode down the hallway, ever aware of his surroundings, and headed back for a secluded spot to view the clan who'd arrived early. A faint whispering came to him from the shadows of the corridor, and his hand tightened ever so slightly on the hilt of his sword. Never blinking he wasn't surprised to see both Brigid and Caitlyn step slightly into view.
"Is it true?" Brigid asked softly. "The MacGregors have shown early?"
Tristan nodded briefly.
Worry shone brightly in Caitlyn's blue eyes. "I do hope ye're bein' careful. Surely the King does na trust them?"
"I go to keep watch." He responded in a quiet voice. At this statement fear entered her eyes. "They won't know I'm there." He told the girl, unaccustomed to explaining anything he did.
"I hope ye're right." Brigid nodded. "But remember, they can hide in plain sight, and ne'er be noticed. A large part of any of our fighting techniques relies upon the ability to conceal ourselves."
"Trust me, I remember." His words brought a guilty flush to both girls' faces, and it made him grin faintly. "I must go."
Arthur and Lancelot made their way down the stone staircase slowly as they spoke. "I do not like the look of that man Arthur." The dark knight spoke grimly.
"Nor do I Lancelot, nor do I. These clans are turning out to be far more political than I had thought."
"I do not envy you your position as King today."
"I did not think you envied it any day." Arthur smiled wryly. "Tonight they dine with us, and they see that the clan of McCree is not entirely dead as they'd once thought. I do not know what kind of reaction the MacGregor will have."
"Perhaps we should double our soldiers on watch?"
"Agreed." Both men fell silent as quiet weeping made its way to them. They continued down the stairwell to find Neely McCree sitting at the bottom. She held her arms around herself to keep from shaking, and her sobs were held in almost silently. "Lady Neely, what troubles you?" Arthur murmured as he and Lancelot approached the girl.
She shot to her feet in surprise, and looked at them with some fright. Her green eyes were drenched in tears that had obviously been falling for some time. "Oh, excuse me yer lordship. I did na realize ye were there."
"Why do you cry Lady?" Lancelot prodded gently.
For a moment it seemed that she wouldn't speak, but then she took a deep breath. "The MacGregors have come. We know what tha means." Neely calmed herself. "They'll be askin' fer us. Thinkin' that by rights we belong to them. I'll na share a bed with one of those barbarians! I'll na do it! Bronny won't let them take us. She'll try to fight them and they'll kill her!"
"Calm yourself Lady." Lancelot murmured.
Neely began sobbing in earnest and Arthur held the young woman to him. He rubbed her back and found himself wondering if this is what it was like to have children or siblings; this brotherly affection. "Lady Bronwen will not have to fight anyone."
"She'll fight before she marries the MacGregor!"
"What makes you think the MacGregor will want to marry her?" Lancelot asked curiously.
Neely scrubbed at her tear stained cheeks with both hands. "She is the eldest, and so beautiful. Fer years the MacGregor offered peace to our Da if he gave her to him. Da refused. He used her friendship with Galen as a shield for much of that time. I do na actually believe they'd have wed had he lived. Bronny is too fierce a creature to have been happy with someone as gentle as dear Galen was." A small smile flit across her face. "When he died the MacGregor began to pressure our Da again. He sent many gifts that Da returned. The MacGregor became angry and threatened Da. It was an empty threat at the time; we were strong. He told Da that he'd take us all. All of Da's daughters." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "He waited until after the Saxon marauders had done their damage. Then they came in the night and burned us down."