The Guardian by Diana Knightley

Twenty-one - Kaitlyn

It was the day before Lughnasadh, Magnus’s favorite day, the harvest festival, and for the past week Zach and Eamag had been baking a ton of bread for the villagers as part of our thank you to the whole freaking region for being so cool.

The people of the area needed all the extra food and help they could get: there had been an economic downturn and the weather was shite, cold and wet. There was barely any harvest so Magnus was spending time over his books, arranging payments, shipments, trades, and gifts.

But tomorrow we would be feasting, which was necessary, because the baking meant that the meals had been sparse and plain, or as Hayley put it over breakfast, “The output from the kitchen is so super sucky right now that I’m about to straight up eat a leather saddle.”

Zach, who I had long suspected was actually purposefully putting flour on his face before he came out of the kitchens to see us so he could complain about all the work, put his hands on his hips and said, “Did you seriously just call the food sucky?”

“Hell yeah I did, super sucky.”

Fraoch was sitting in a chair between them, indulging in his new hobby, knitting, working on oddly shaped socks for Magnus, after having made an overly long, awkwardly stitched scarf for Quentin. He had his left ankle on his right knee, with a ball of multicolored yarn in his lap, his knitting needles clicking while Hayley and Zach bantered. Then he put his knitting needles down and said, “The food is kinda shite.”

Zach looked incredulous. “What the... what? I just baked hundreds of loaves of—”

Magnus laughed. “I ken ye baked bread, Chef Zach we hae been hearin’ on it for weeks, but the dinner last night was verra bland.”

Zach waved his hands at Magnus causing a flop of flour to sail across the space and land on Magnus’s cheek. He brushed it off laughing.

Zach said, “Look, this is the deal around this fucking place, if the food is good, it is because of me, if it’s bland, it’s Eamag. She fights me on everything. If I so much as pick up the salt shaker she rushes over and stands glowering over my shoulder. I think I broke her with the taco night a few months ago — they weren’t even spicy! Not really! Fuck, that auld lady drives me crazy. God love her. Hey, did I tell you what she told me about Lady Mairead?”

“No, but tell us, I want to know, dish dish!” Hayley rolled her hand.

Zach pulled out a chair, turned it around and sat on it. “Eamag told me that when Lady Mairead was really young—”

Hayley said, “I can’t believe Eamag was around at the same time.”

“Why not, she’s old as hell! She is an eye witness to the fact that Lady Mairead ran off with a boy, a local farmer.”

Hayley said, “Uh uh, no way!”

Zach said, “Magnus, you ever heard this?”

“Nae, I heard she was a wanton woman, the boys taunted me with it. I beat Jimmy fairly for sayin’ it and it wasna said again.”

Zach laughed and held up his hands. “Don’t beat me, I’m just telling it. I don’t think it’s anything disparaging. I think it’s astonishing to find out she’s a real human who wasn’t always deviously scheming.”

Magnus asked, “What did Eamag say on it?”

“That Lady Mairead was found in an old croft with the boy and brought back to Balloch, locked up, and then quickly married to Sean’s father.”

Hayley asked, “What happened to the boy?”

“He died from ‘falling off a horse.’ I swear Eamag meant there to be air-quotes around the ‘falling off a horse’.”

Magnus said, “Och, I hadna heard it.”

Hayley said, “No fair! I wanted to hear fun dish, now I feel sorry for her.”

Zach said, “You don’t have to feel too sorry for her, I mean, she’s still mean as hell, just because something awful happened to her thirty years ago doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be nicer.”

I said, “So she was married to Sean’s dad and...” I squinted my eyes. “Maybe don’t tell this story in front of Sean.”

“Oh, because he might be... oh!”

“Yeah, this is probably best kept to ourselves.”

Magnus said, “Aye, I agree.” He paused then said, “Did Eamag ken who it was who found her with the boy?”

“Yep, it was the Earl.”

Magnus sneered. “Och, the man has always been reprehensible, I am glad tae hae taken Lady Mairead’s side in their arguments through the years.”

* * *

The following day we woke to a day of festivities: first a church day with the blessing of the bread, then a harvest fair and games that began with traditional games, including, excitingly enough, my first chance to introduce all my friends to my skill at archery.

I had three bows made for the day and we had bales with targets on them. We ran heats and I was gosh darn glorious. There had been a moment when I had been worried because Sophie, when asked, had said she had competed in archery before. I tried really hard to shake it off and be cool with the idea that I might get beaten at the best thing, competition-wise, that I had ever done.

It had been something that had been important to me in that long year away from my family, something I really wanted to show off about, but whatever, I was a grown up.

If Sophie beat me it would be fine.

But then she didn’t. I came in first, fair and square, and everyone was impressed with my skill, because Sophie came in second but well down in the score, like not even close.

The men competed in a caber toss and then a big game where they lifted giant stones.

I was standing beside Magnus, watching Sean lift, “Master Magnus you are crowing like a rooster, I see, preening like one, too, all because you can carry a big rock.”

He joked, “Och, ye were verra proud of yerself as well with the little stick flying through the air.”

“Ha! Well, you’re right, I was very proud of myself.”

“I was proud of ye as well.”

“Now go lift another rock, I want to see more leg.”

He laughed and got up for his turn. Fraoch was the one to beat, but it was fun to watch all the other men try, some jokingly, like Chef Zach, who could barely budge it, and Magnus, of course, coming very, very close and giving me a bit of a thrill. Fraoch took the prize, but all the men posed as if they were bodybuilders.

Then to round out the day we taught the whole castle soccer.

It was lovely at the end of the long day, to watch some of the boys and most of the men playing soccer out on the grass. Then because of the exertion a few of the men, specifically James, Quentin, and Magnus, took their shirts off and it was like, epic.

Hayley called, “Fraoch! Take off your shirt!”

He grinned and put his hand behind his ear, “Och, I canna hear, is m’wife asking me tae take off m’skirt?”

We all laughed.

I glanced at Sophie’s face, she was blushing, as her eyes followed her husband chasing the ball down the field.

I said, “What do you think, Madame Sophie, do you like soccer?”

She said, “Soccer, what is soccer?”

Hayley said, “The game they’re playing with the ball!”

A sly smile tugged at the side of her mouth and she said, “Och, are they playin’ a game? I hadna noticed, I was watching m’ husband with nae shirt upon his chest.”

Hayley burst out laughing. “Awesome, you are our kind of girl.” Then we all, including Sophie, spent the evening cheering on our teams, advising and coaching from the sidelines.

Sean was running down field and yelled to James, “Tis verra fun that ye hae taught us tae play with a ball.”

James joked, “Next week I’m going to teach you American style football.”