Both brothers dismounted with the grace of seasoned riders. Duncan tossed the boy the reins assuming the lad knew what needed to be done.
“Give him an extra measure of oats, lad. He has come far this day.”
The horse was black as tar and stood over twenty-two hands, dwarfing the child. Once in the child’s grip it whined and pulled.
The lad stumbled.
15
Catherine Bybee
Duncan steadied his horse with a few words and a firm hand. “Easy, boy.”
The boy’s father came out when Duncan spoke.
“Oh, let me help you.” He rushed forward, dislodged the straps from his son’s hands.
“But Dad! You said I could get the next one.”
The boy kicked the dust off his Nikes.
“Yes, well... I’ll let you get the next.”
“But you said...”
“They’re too big for you, Travis. Now run along.”
The father turned his attention to Duncan and Fin.
“This is boring!” the boy shouted. He stomped into the temporary stable. “I don’t see why I couldn’t bring my Gameboy.”
“Sorry. He just isn’t in the spirit of things I’m afraid.” The man ran his hand down the stallion’s neck, and regarded the animal with awe. “Wow!
These are fine horses. I don’t think I’ve seen them here before. Is this your first time?”
Duncan had a hard time understanding the accent. It was Fin who finally spoke up. “Yes.
Perhaps you could point us in the direction where we might find some food.”
“Great accent! It’s Scottish, right?”
“Aye.”
The man nodded his approval and went back to the horses. “Food is past the Gypsy’s tent, and then hang a left. You can’t miss it.”
“Hang a left?” Duncan tested the words out.
“Yeah. Wow, this bridle is authentic. It must have cost a fortune.”
Duncan exchanged a look with his brother. “Ye know what you’re about, sir?”
“Yeah. I can handle it.”
“Good.” Fin seized his brother by the arm, forcing him to leave behind his most prized possession. “He’ll be fine. Come, we’re late.”
“We wouldn’t be if ye hadn’t stopped to stare at 16
Binding Vows
the iron horse. Had ye forgotten from the last time we were here?” They marched forward with a purpose and continued their conversation.
“Forgotten? Nay. But you have to admit, they are fascinating. I’d like to ride in one just once while we’re here.”
“We’ve no time and ye know it.” They slowed when passing the Gypsy’s tent. Both of them gave it a wide berth and a long stare. “The parade of women is already done. Our work will be harder this time.”
Duncan clicked his tongue. “I don’t believe I’ll hear ye complain. What was it last time? Three or four?”
“Two actually, the others were false.” Fin’s wicked grin had Duncan patting him on the back when they entered the arena set up with food.
****
Who would have thought a dinner could last so long? Once the final course was finished, the tables vanished and the musicians started to play. The music was lively, and most of the patrons were drunk. The effect created an unlikely combination, considering few people knew the steps to the dances popular during the Renaissance era.
Cassy, a few sheets beyond tipsy, did her best to be the life of the party. She went from one lap to another, asking men to dance. Many were all too eager to please. When a few of them pulled Tara into the mix, she shrugged them off to find solitude away from Cassy’s new friends.
Nursing the warm wine helped dull some of the strain as Tara wandered around and studied the people. She avoided conversations. The mix of accents made it difficult to understand what people were saying. Add to that the alcohol factor and the burrs became thicker and more butchered.
She attracted a fair amount of attention, even without Cassy at her side. Some of the stares had 17
Catherine Bybee
her looking down at the dress to make sure she hadn’t spilled something or to make sure her bra strap wasn’t showing. It wasn’t until the fifth man approached her Tara realized why.
“What do we have here?” He slurred then reached out to touch her hair. “So...the Gypsy let your hair loose.”
Drunken eyes took in the length of her body and rested on her chest. It was then it dawned on Tara, she might as well have worn a t-shirt saying, “I’m a virgin, come and get it.”
Disgusted, she stormed away from the sneering man, found a forgotten pencil, and quickly put the telling trusses in a knot on top of her head.
A quiet corner called out her name. It was almost midnight, the hour she told Cassy she’d turn in. With only a little longer to wait, the night would soon be over. One down, three more to endure.