Chapter 144

After the first day, Ailene was never the first one to fall. She might not be the last one standing, but she took a toll on all who tried to beat her. Bjarkë and Frang frequently had to send six or seven against her to cause her death, and once she lasted up to ten opponents. Isobel saw Ailene leap over the fence, tumble and roll, spit someone as she rose to her feet, throwing dirt at the others. She was a dervish, seemed to know every obstacle by heart, never tumbled or fell. Those she faced were often beaned by a thrown rock or branch to the point all must wear a helmet.

After testing her singly, they started throwing others into the mix. If she was able to retreat to a certain spot, she would have one ally, to another, a second. But one other person was especially effective; Isobel. If they were partnered, they didn't just add to one another's talents, they multiplied. They seemed to read each other's minds, understanding exactly what the other would do and how they could help the other accomplish it. Bjarkë sent twenty-six men against them before they were both killed.

"I've never seen the like," Bjarkë grumbled. "It's like I've not trained these men at all. How can two wee lasses be killing my men over and over."

"How the hell should I know. My own students don't fare any better," Frang said. "They work like magic together. They don't work like a team, they work like two people with a single mind."

Cyrus had been watching with them. He coughed and they both looked at him.

"They're not just fighting for their lives," Cyrus said. "They're fighting to die, not be captured. If they're taken, the least they can expect is to be raped. From what you said about Màiri and what happened to her, rape would be the least of their worries. They would rather die than be captured. If you know you're going to die anyway, dying on a battlefield is the preferable alternative. There is no surrender. They do seem to be of a single mind, but they've both thought of it, haven't they; probably talked about it. They know what's at stake. I think the lasses have memorized the battlefield. I think they do it everywhere they go. I've seen them in the barn and shed, pointing out things to one another. I suspect they've done the same in the house. There's probably nowhere they've gone which they haven't thought about using to their advantage."

"Aye. I may have seen the same thing in the kitchen," Frang said, "talking and whispering, even laughing, pointing at the pots and pans, the fire. I couldn't figure out what they were doing, but I think you're right. They were looking at it like a battleground and how they'd fight on it."

"I think they've both mastered the sword," Cyrus said. "The only thing you've yet to teach them is the axe."

"It's hard," Bjarkë said. "Even a dulled blade can knock the stuffing out of you."

"Well, from what I've heard, Blackthorne doesn't use an axe, but some of his soldiers do," Cyrus said, "so you need to teach them."

"What weapon does Blackthorne use?" Frang asked. "I've never heard."

"I don't know," Cyrus answered. "I heard he had some training on the continent as a young man, France or Italy, some time after your Daddy whipped him, but I've never heard what, nor that he ever practices with his men. As far as I know, the only weapon he wields is money, but he's an expert with that."

"I guess we start with the axes tomorrow, Bjarkë."

"Aye, though Thorburn is the best one to train against. The axe is his weapon."

"Maybe after market day in a couple days, Thorburn can spend some time with them," Frang said. "I'd like him to see what we've done with our training and how well the women have progressed."

"We'd best get them practiced up before."

Meghan came to Ailene and Isobel after the training, gushing with praise.

"My ladies, do you know how many men you defeated today?"

"I wasn't keeping count," Ailene said. "Did you, Isobel."

"No. All I know is it was a lot. I'm exhausted."

"It took twenty-six men to kill you both," Meghan enthused, "All men, known warriors, you killed twenty-five. You must be the greatest warriors of all time, like the Amazons of the Greeks or Viking Valkyries."

"We're not that good," Ailene said. "I still can't beat Frang half the time in normal bouts. This is different. The battlefield gives us a chance against superior enemies. I learned in the first battle I fought in this place. An inferior opponent beat me because he understood the ground better. Not anymore. Isobel and I have learned to use the battlefield to our advantage. Any battlefield. Every time we go someplace different, we're thinking of how we can turn it to our advantage. Isobel and I think alike. We have to. We know what waits for us if we're taken; if Blackthorne gets his hands on us. Everything must be turned to our advantage if we're to survive. I don't want to become Màiri. Isobel is not only protecting herself, but her child. It's all we can do."

"You can deny it all you want," Meghan said, "but no other two people have beaten twenty-five warriors. I think you're heroines, someone all women can aspire to be."

Isobel grinned at Ailene. "Twenty-five is a rather large number."

Ailene hugged Isobel. "It is a lot isn't it. I wonder what they'll pull on us tomorrow? Three against one hundred?"

"There isn't a full hundred men here," Meghan said doubtfully.

"I'm joking," Ailene said. "Would you like to learn to fight like we do?"

"Can I?" Meghan asked. "Are you sure it wouldn't interfere with my duties?"

"Mmm, it might," admitted Isobel, "but I happen to know the Laird quite well and he believes women should be able to defend themselves."

"Really? Do you think I can?" Meghan pleaded.

"We did, didn't we," Ailene said. "But if you want to train, you must work hard, you will work harder than you ever did as a maid. You must get stronger and faster and practice every day. We'll help you if you dedicate yourself to become better."

"I will," Meghan said. "I promise."

Ailene paused. "How old are you, Meghan?"

"Twenty-four."

"Three years older than I am. Why haven't you married before now? Do you like men?"

"I like them fine, though never one my parents or I felt was worth marrying."

"So, it's mostly a question of finding the right person. I have a question for you Meghan."

"What is it?"

"What do you think of Bjarkë as a man?"

"The weapons master? He's nice. He teases me sometimes, but it's all in fun."

"What if I told you he was fond of you and might be interested in you as a woman, possibly to wed?" Ailene asked.

"He's interested in me?"

"Yes. His exact words were he found you to be attractive, smart, caring and brave. He doesn't want to approach you while we're still fighting Blackthorne because family members become targets, as you already know. Blackthorne threatened your family. But I think he'd be ready to settle down if it were ended."

"He's a little old for me, isn't he?"

"That's for you to decide," Ailene said, "not me, nor Isobel nor anyone else. You might wish to speak to some of the other women. I understand some have shared his bed and found him to their liking. He may not be as old as his age would make you think. He's nineteen years older than Thorburn, fifty-two or three, I think. Thorburn's father, Jamison Cameron, had to fight him in order to win the hand of his sister."

"My family is staying with some of his, aren't they?" Meghan asked.

"They are. His family says your parents are hard-working, decent people and it's one of the things he finds attractive about you. He feels you were raised right by good folks."

"I would do whatever you think is best," Meghan said, "because of yours and his kindness to me and my family."

"Meghan," Isobel said, "we didn't help your family to create an obligation on your part. We wanted you free to do what you thought was right, not be forced into situations you didn't want to be in. I was in a marriage which was hateful and hard. You know what it was like. No one should be forced into something they don't want. You shouldn't look at Bjarkë as an obligation, but as a possible opportunity to be with a good man. Get to know him. Find out if he's kind and gentle, if he would treat you well, and find out if he's too old for you or if someone younger would be a better fit. Just remember a younger person may be more handsome, but he might not be any better. A good person is more valuable than a pretty one. If you decide Bjarkë is not the man for you, then he's not. He won't force his attentions on you. The decision will always be yours."

"The question wasn't designed to make you Bjarkë's wife," Ailene said. "I thought you might want to know he's interested, and maybe look at him in a different way than you do now. I suspect he teases you because he's fond of you. Does he tease the other lasses?"

"Not so much."

"Think about it. Think about him. Think about what you want in a husband. It's all I ask. We'll speak to Frang later and tell him you want to start training tomorrow. Best put on some pants. Dresses don't work well on the training field. If you don't have any, ask Jinny. She may be able to alter a boy's to fit. We'll expect your best effort."

"Thank you, Lady Isobel, Lady Ailene." She curtsied and left, running.

"Twenty-five. Do you really think it's true or was Meghan exaggerating?" Isobel asked.

"The way I feel now, it could have been fifty. I'm so looking forward to a hot bath tonight."

Arm in arm, they returned to the house.