The black hair on his shoulders was matted in sweat. His hand trembled as he brought his arm back. He licked his lips, and then he threw the axe. He roared as he did so, as though he could will the ax on with his voice. Rhys followed the path of the axe. Everyone did. There was a disappointed hush as it hit the target. Black Pete, a man renowned for his ferocity and fearlessness, had played it safe. The axe had avoided the cluster in the middle and he had taken the easy points in the blue zone towards the edge of the target, banking on Caitlin missing entirely.
Rhys saw Malcolm scowl. “What a coward,” he cursed, and shook his head.
Bryn leaned back, looking smug. Black Pete’s shoulders were hunched and he gazed at Caitlin as she walked forward, picking up the final axe. Black Pete’s move had deflated the crowd for they wanted something impressive, something glorious. All eyes were on Caitlin as she took her position again and went through her regular motions, as graceful as a swan. She seemed cool and relaxed under pressure, as though nothing fazed her at all. With every passing moment Rhys’s impression of her improved, and he grew more enamored with her resolve as well as her beauty. She may have been a McClearey, but she had the essence of the finest heart of a Highland spirit.
From her hand, the axe flew. Rhys’s mouth opened in awe as time seemed to slow. The axe flew straight, and it hit its intended target, nestling among the cluster of axes, right in the middle of the target. It was a nearly impossible shot, but Caitlin had made it look easy. As soon as the axe hit its target there was a stunned silence, as though nobody in attendance could quite believe Caitlin had made it look so easy, but there was no denying her skill. Black Pete’s head hung in shame. Caitlin wheeled away and pumped her fist in the air as she turned to her clansmen and was overrun by a sea of people who wanted to help her celebrate. They lifted her up and carried her on their shoulders. Rhys got up too and applauded, even though he had to suffer a black look from his father. The McClearey clan had won fairly, with a display of great skill from Caitlin, and it had to be applauded.
While the rest of his clan was celebrating, Bryn walked up to Malcolm with a smug look on his face.
“It seems as though ye men are nae as good as ye think,” Bryn said.
Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “Aye, ye lass got lucky.”
“Luck has naething tae dae with it, Malcolm. She’s been practicing like that for years now. Aye, there are times when I thought she would gae and live in the wild rather than give her hand in marriage, but she knows what’s important. She’ll make ye son a good wife. And let’s nae be tae angry with each other. It was just a wee bit of fun like ye said. Let’s gae and get ready for the meal tonight,” Bryn said. Malcolm nodded and seemed to accept Bryn’s offer of peace, but as he turned around, Rhys could see Malcolm glower.
“He’ll pay for that,” Malcolm muttered as he stormed past Rhys. He stopped and looked up at his son. “And why ye cheered for her I dinnae ken. Loyalty tae the clan before all else,” he said, shaking his head as he walked away. Rhys pursed his lips and sighed as he looked up and saw Caitlin reveling in the celebration with the people of her clan. Rhys smiled and decided to leave without saying anything to her so that she could enjoy the moment. It was a strange thing to see, for he knew that soon enough they would either be killed or in servitude to the Frasier clan. Let them celebrate, he thought, for soon enough they will lose everything they hold dear.
5
Caitlin was still exhilarated hours after the axe throwing contest. She had practiced a lot, but making the shot gave her a sense of triumph that couldn’t be matched. She also enjoyed the fact that she had performed so well in front of Rhys, for she wanted to impress him and, actually, his presence had given her some confidence in the matter. After the celebration she had returned to the keep and bathed, preparing herself for a meal. The water trickled over her supple skin and the foamy lather calmed her and washed off all the sweat from the excitement. Her mother walked in and brought in a fresh dress that she could wear for the evening, a deep purple gown that was flowing and long.
“I cannae believe ye did what ye did taeday,” Violet began. “Ye should know better by now. It’s time for ye tae leave these foolish things behind and act like a lady. Dae ye really think yer husband is gaeing tae want a lass who throws axes?” Violet shook her head disapprovingly. “Ye need tae leave ye childhood behind. I hae tried tae tell ye that ye are a woman now, nae a lass, but ye wilnae listen.”
Caitlin shook
