“Or,” Hamish added, casting a sideways glance at Darshan. “We could ride down to the market square and see what’s on offer at the spring festival?”
Like ruddy-haired grasshoppers, the boys bounced around their uncles to cries of “Aye!” and “Can we really?” with the occasional “Let’s go!” from Bruce.
Darshan’s heart stuttered at the sight. He had to be roughly the same height as the eldest of the three brothers, he was well aware he barely reached Hamish’s shoulder and that the children came from a line of equally tall ancestors. Nevertheless… Was that how he looked standing next to Hamish?
Surely he conducted himself with more dignity.
Hamish grinned at Darshan. “Want to come with us?”
“I would love to.” Truthfully, he would’ve accepted any excuse to leave the castle confines, but an actual festival did hold some merit. Darshan nodded at the pair of small antlers still somehow affixed to the man’s head. “But are you planning on wearing those down there?”
Confusion took Hamish’s face before the expression was consumed by a deep blush. He hastily removed the antlers, tucking them behind his back.
“Well, I was planning on a somewhat more peaceful afternoon,” Gordon rumbled. “But if you lads would rather go to the festival than study…” He waited, grinning, as the boys chorused an empathetic assurance that they certainly did wish to go. “I’ll go get the horses ready, then.”
“Really?” Hamish asked, the beginning notes of a whine creeping into his voice. “We’re only heading down to the city. It’s nae far.”
“And neither was the pub,” the man shot back over his shoulder, earning a mixed cry of giggles and mock gags from the boys. Clearly, the young trio knew what had transpired there. “You ken the rules, ‘Mish. You are nae allowed beyond the castle walls unescorted, especially with him.” He jerked a thumb at Darshan. “So where you both go, I have to follow. Or I can grab one of the guards and you can have them tailing you for the rest of the day?” He gave a sly grin. “Or maybe you’d prefer Lyall? I dinnae think our old steward is doing anything noteworthy today.”
Hamish grimaced. “It’s just out to the markets,” he clarified. “Me and the lads will show Dar what a real spring festival is like and be back before sunset.”
Gordon nodded. “Nae doubt you will do just that, but you ken Mum. If she caught wind that you’d been out of the castle without someone to keep an eye on you.” He narrowed his eyes at the boys. “And the Mischief Trio doesnae count.” The man strode over to the stable entrance. “So, shall we?”
Darshan’s shoulders sagged. There went his hope of a quiet, and completely innocent, time wandering the stalls with Hamish and their three young tag-alongs. And here he’d thought Gordon to be on his brother’s side. Hamish’s perhaps, but certainly not mine. He hadn’t had to prove himself worthy of someone’s time before.
It was a challenge he was quite prepared to accept.
From afar, the city looked no less busy, but Darshan caught a central flow to the crowd that hadn’t been in evidence the last time he had ventured beyond the castle walls. They descended the road winding into Mullhind on five horses. Whilst the two older boys each rode an animal almost as broad as the shaggy mare Hamish rode, Mac shared a single mount with his older uncle.
“Can we go to the docks first?” Mac asked, bouncing on his perch before Gordon. The animal didn’t seem to mind the placement, perhaps well accustomed to such, but the boy’s uncle stilled him all the same. “I want to see the sinking ship race.”
“That’s nae until tomorrow, lad,” Gordon said. He shaded his eyes and stared out at the harbour. “I only see fishing boats right now.”
“Sinking ship?” Darshan enquired, kneeing his horse closer in the hopes of an explanation.
“It’s the final race of winter,” Mac said. “They take a ship full of people out into the harbour and everyone jumps into the water.” He paused and seemed to think for a bit, twirling a coil of hair tightly around his forefinger. “Well, nae everyone—nae the people sailing—but they jump in and swim back to the docks.”
Darshan could understand abandoning a sinking ship, could even grasp the idea of a quick dip off a boat in warmer waters, but to jump off a seaworthy vessel when the harbour had to be freezing at this time of year… “Why?”
“Because the fastest to make it to the docks gets a whole side of boar,” Hamish replied.
“It didnae used to be such a draw, mind you,” Gordon added. “The race started off as a way to honour the original Mathan chieftain, see who could brave the same waters he swam and all that. And before then, it was just an old tale of our clan, before it was more than a single family set adrift by—”
Ethan groaned loudly and rocked back on his horse. “Nae this story again. Mum tells it to us every spring. Can we nae hear a different one?”
“You poor thing,” Gordon mumbled. “You’re right, it is a boring story. It’s nae like the chieftain’s act of saving his family didnae see you as a prince and fourth in line for the throne…”
“He is right, though,” Hamish piped up. “It was boring when Dad told us and it’s downright sleep-inducing when you tell it.”
“You’re nae supposed to agree with the rats!” Gordon snapped as they reached the bottom of the road. They clattered through the square, which seemed far too empty for a spring festival happening. “All right, lads, where to first?”
All three of the children answered at once, each with a seemingly different response. How anyone could distinguish distinct words from the garbled noise was beyond Darshan’s understanding, but Gordon nodded as if he had made them out perfectly.
“May I suggest a place?” Darshan enquired once
