Tomas, Drew, and Ethan began working with Ruthven’s men that morning after Laird Carr left with the rest. Ruthven introduced them to the captain of his guard, Gregor Hay, before returning to the keep.

Tomas had faint memories of Gregor. He had been Laird Ruthven's squire for years and had become a member of his guard before Tomas and Katherine left. Mainly, Tomas remembered that his grandfather had liked Gregor. His grandfather judged men by a simple rule, “Don’t trust a man who doesn’t treat his beasts well. It’s a sure sign something rotten lurks beneath.” Tomas’s adoptive father had a similar belief, “A good man respects his mount and treats it with the care he’d give his own sword arm, for they are extensions of each other.” Tomas had memories of Gregor, in the stable, helping to take care of horses.

As soon as Ruthven had left them, Tomas said, “Perhaps we should just start by watching yer men train?”

“Sir, I think we should start with an apology. I am sorry, and ashamed that it was necessary for the laird to ask ye to do this.”

Tomas shook his head. “First, just call me Tomas, not sir. I think that goes for all of us.” He glanced at Drew and Ethan, who indicated their agreement. “And second, ye needn’t apologize. The person responsible for ensuring that his garrison is adequately trained is the laird. Ye can only do what ye can do with what ye have. Our purpose here is not to lay blame, but rather to teach ye what we can.”

Gregor offered him his hand. “Thank ye.”

They spent the rest of the day watching the Ruthven men train. Afterward, they sat down with Gregor to discuss what they’d learned.

Tomas said, “It isn’t that ye’re men aren’t skilled. I suspect they have had very skilled instruction, but from only a few men, so it has been limited. They go through the exact same exercises over and over. If an opponent approached them in that way, he’d be sliced down.”

Ethan nodded. “Aye, but when there is any variation, they have to decide what to do and in those infinitesimal delays, an opponent with more skill can gain the upper hand.”

“We can help round out their skills,” said Drew. “Tomas and I are among the finest swordsmen in the Highlands, because of the way we were trained. And Ethan’s not bad either,” he teased.

“I’ve kicked yer arse on occasion,” said Ethan with a grin.

“Well, I’d appreciate any help ye can give us,” said Gregor.

“What’s more concerning,” said Tomas, “is the fact that ye’ve suffered as many raids as ye have. It tells me that whoever is doing this is growing more and more confident of their success and your inability to defend against them. We have to prove them wrong. As far as I can tell, you send out men to patrol your borders in a fairly predictable pattern.”

“That’s a bit like training with the same exercises,” said Ethan. “Your enemies learn how to avoid you.”

“So, we change our routine?” asked Gregor.

Tomas grinned slyly. “Nay, ye don’t. Ye keep sending the two patrols of four men exactly as ye have been. But ye send others too, and those are the ones whose movements ye vary. If ye double yer number of patrols, and have four groups of men out every night, two of which use more covert tactics, you will stop the next raid.”

Drew said, “We’ll put eight men in each of the other two patrols. One of us will go with them the first few times as a training exercise.”

“Why eight men?” asked Gregor.

Tomas answered, “It is unlikely that more than four men are doing the thieving. It would be easier to detect them if they were using men than that. Additionally, they aren’t taking huge numbers of beasts, only what they can manage to move quickly. Eight men with average skills—and yer men do have average or better skills—can easily prevail against four. We don’t want lives lost.”

Ethan added. “The predictable patrols can continue to be just four men for a while because we’re fairly sure your enemy is making every effort to avoid them.”

Tomas nodded. “As soon as we thwart one raid, we’ll increase the number of men on the other patrols and stop the established pattern altogether. One failed attempt will be enough to tell them ye’ve changed yer tactics and hopefully tell us who’s behind it. They’ll be more cautious then next time.”

“But if I send twenty-four men out every night, and others are busy guarding the keep, how will we accomplish any training?” asked Gregor.

“It’s easier than ye might think,” answered Tomas. “Ye have two men at the gate and another six on the wall at all times and they are on duty for four hours at a time. Ye have a total of about one hundred men?”

“Aye, a hundred and three to be precise.”

Tomas said, “Well, divide them into four groups of at least twenty-four men and they will cycle posts every three days. One group will ride patrols. Two groups will split their time between guarding the keep and training. Each man will work four hours at a guard post and will train for four hours either in the morning or the afternoon. The remaining group will train both morning and afternoon for three days. We won’t train on Sundays.”

“That means in twelve weeks, each man will train for eighteen full days and thirty-six half days. Each man will guard the keep for four hours on forty-two days including six Sundays, they’ll serve patrol on twenty-one days including three Sundays, and they’ll have three Sundays completely off,” said Drew.

Tomas said, “It’s a fairly intense schedule, but we will only be here until February. If after one twelve-week cycle, everything is going extremely well, ye can make changes. Reduce the number of men on patrol to eighteen, give the men who serve watch between midnight and prime the day off from training. Ye can decide based on the situation then.”

Gregor nodded. “Aye, we’ll start tomorrow.”

“We’ll start tonight,” said Tomas. “Ethan will take sixteen men out tonight to begin training them to patrol. He has stellar tracking skills. Drew will take them then next night, and I’ll take the next. We’ll rotate like that until we’re comfortable that everyone is well enough trained at patrolling to leave them on their own.”

Gregor smiled. “All right. I want to go, so I’ll select seven more.”

Ethan smiled. “Good. We’ll leave immediately after supper and return after daybreak.”

~ * ~

After Laird Carr had left with his men, Vida had given in to Emma’s nagging and returned to her chamber to stay off of her injured ankle. She soaked it from time to time in cool water. The swelling had gone down considerably by evening, however, and she refused to stay locked away in her chamber. She wanted to be at the table and hear the discussions of how the day of training had gone with the Carr warriors.

When the Carrs entered the hall with Gregor and some of the other men, Vida was glad that her father called for them to join him at his table. If he hadn’t, Vida would have, but it was better that the invitation came from him. She simply had to listen to the conversations to learn all she needed to.

“So,” asked her father, “how did things go today? Please tell me my men aren’t hopeless.”

Sir Tomas laughed. “They aren’t hopeless. Far from it. They have just been exposed to less variety. The skills they have are very good. They have had excellent instruction, but men can only teach what they themselves have learned. Our skills aren’t necessarily better, just different because we’ve had different experiences. So, it’s really just a matter of broadening their skills by exposing them to diverse techniques.”

Vida was amazed. With a few words, Tomas had managed to give both her father and Gregor a bit of their pride back.

Tomas and Drew talked about honing instincts and shortening reaction times and her father was rapt. At one point he asked, “I wish I were younger. I’d like to learn these things as well.”

“Laird Ruthven,” said Drew, “Laird Carr has more than three score years to his credit and he still trains some every day.”

“Does he? But he has such a capable guard. Surely he no longer needs to defend himself.”

A frown flitted briefly across Sir Tomas’s face. “Laird Carr prefers not to let other men fight for him. As long as he can lift a sword, he’ll fight beside them. The only way he can do that is to keep his skills as sharp as possible.”

“Then you think I could train with the men?”

Drew nodded. “If ye wish.”

Ruthven turned to address Tomas directly. “Will you work with me, Sir Tomas?”

Vida couldn’t quite read the expression on Tomas’s face. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if he were horrified, but it must simply have been shock or surprise. In fairness, Vida herself was surprised. For years her father hadn’t done more than occasionally spar briefly with Gregor.

“Aye…uh…if that’s what ye wish,” answered Tomas.

“I don’t want to take away from the time ye spend with my men, but aye, I’d like that.”

“Well, then…uh…perhaps ye’d like to join us tomorrow after the midday meal?”

“That would be perfect.” Her father smiled, appearing truly happy. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Sir Tomas and Sir Drew also explained the problem they had identified with the way the Ruthven men patrolled the holding. Her father asked questions, appearing truly interested. “Can I ride patrol with you one night?”

Both of the Carr men frowned.

“Sir, I appreciate yer desire to learn,” said Sir Tomas, “But I fear ye’d be putting yerself in harm’s way. It would be better to wait until I’m certain yer men can protect ye well. The last think we’d want would be for ye to be taken hostage.”

“Aye, then it’s probably best to wait a while on that.”

The talk of the day’s training went on throughout the evening meal, Sir Gregor and a few of the other Ruthven knights joining in to praise the Carrs. When supper was over, her father rose from the table. “I’m going to retire for the evening. Please enjoy yourselves. Vida, shall I help you up to bed?”

“No, thank you, Papa. I’ll come up in a bit.”

“Very well. I’m certain Sir Tomas will help you up the stairs if you need it.”

She could barely contain a chuckle. If it was possible, her father gave every appearance of being smitten by Sir Tomas. “Aye, Papa, I’m sure he would, but I think I’ll be fine.”

The men dispersed from the tables and the servants cleaned up the remnants of the meal and took down the trestles. To her disappointment, Sir Tomas too rose to go with the men. She wanted to spend a little more time in his company, but to do that she had to think of a way to keep him from leaving. “Uh…Sir Tomas…I…uh…do you play chess?”

“Do I...I’m sorry, did ye ask if I play chess?”

She smiled at him in the way she did if she needed her papa to do something. “Aye, I did. Do you? Play chess, that is?”

“Aye, of course.”

“Would you care to play with me?”

A salacious grin spread across his face and Vida felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks.

“I…I…I mean, chess. Would you care to play a game of chess with me?”

“Aye. I’d be happy to play a game of chess with ye.”

“Emma,” she called. “Would you mind bringing me my chessboard and have Nuala bring us wine?”

“Certainly, my lady.”

Sir Tomas sat back down. Vida wasn’t sure why she’d done that. She’d never desired to spend time in any man’s company. But then, Sir Tomas MacHenry wasn’t just any man. He was the very attractive young man who had saved her from a kidnapper. Plus, he appeared to have won her father’s affection, which was beyond amusing.

“Do you make a habit of playing chess in the evening?” he asked.

“I used to. I played with Papa nearly every evening. But over the last few years, he has grown less fond of the game. I can usually coax Father Michael into a game if he’s free.”

“And no one else will play with ye?”

“Sometimes, if we have guests such as yourselves, I can find someone willing to play, but otherwise, nay.”

Vida noticed Moyna, the elderly woman in charge of the kitchens and not the young maid Nuala, hurrying towards her from the back of the hall bearing a tray with a ewer of wine and two goblets.

“Moyna, you didn’t have to bring that yourself.”

“’Tis no trouble, my lady. I did want to be certain you didn’t want to make any changes to tomorrow’s meals.”

Vida smiled. She suspected the truth was that the older woman just wanted to get a look at their guests. “Nay, what you’ve planned is fine.”

“Very well, my lady.” Moyna bobbed a curtsy.

“Moyna, this is Sir Tomas MacHenry, one of Laird Carr’s men. Sir Tomas, this is Moyna. She’s in charge of the kitchens here.”

Sir Tomas stood, turned towards Moyna, and gave a small bow. “It’s very nice to meet you, Moyna.”

Moyna’s eyes widened, then her brows drew together in confusion. “Sir Tomas? Sir Tomas MacHenry, you say?

“Aye, Moyna, this is Sir Tomas MacHenry. Surely ye’ve heard that three of Laird Carr’s men are staying at Cotharach to help better train our men-at-arms.”

Moyna’s gaze seemed fixed on Sir Tomas’s face as if searching for something. “Aye, my lady,” she answered distractedly. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sir Tomas. Very pleased, indeed. If you need anything, anything at all, just ask. ’Tis a very good thing you do.”

“Thank ye, Moyna,” said Tomas, bowed again. He didn’t seem to find her behavior strange.

“Excuse me, please. I’ll just go back to the kitchen.” Moyna bobbed another curtsy and hurried out of the hall.

Vida smiled and poured a goblet of wine for Sir Tomas as he sat back down. “Pardon her unusual behavior. I suspect she’s been curious about our visitors all day and could wait no longer.”

“Ye’ve nothing to apologize for. She seems very kind.”

Emma finally arrived with the chess set. Vida set it up and, taking a pawn in each hand, put her hands behind her back then presented him with her closed fists. “Which hand do you wish, Sir Tomas.”

“Please, just call me Tomas.”

“Tomas, then. But in that case, you must just call me Vida.”

He smiled. “Very well. I’ll take the left hand, Vida.”

She turned over her palm to reveal the black pawn.

~ * ~

Tomas took the pawn from her hand. “White goes first, make your move.”

Initially he was distracted, thinking of Moyna. She appeared to recognize him. That she didn’t acknowledge it was good. He would have to try and find a way to talk with her. But after the first few less than well thought out moves, Tomas realized he had to focus while playing chess with Vida. He also thought he might have an inkling why no one, especially her father, would play with her—they didn’t like to lose. She was exceedingly good and he lost the first game in minutes.

“Ah, Vida, I made the classic mistake of underestimating my foe. Will ye allow me to redeem myself?”

She gave him a heart-stopping smile. “Of course. I’d love to play another game.”

This time he was prepared and paid closer attention.

Perhaps trying to distract him, she asked lots of questions about the Highlands, his home, and Clan Carr. He did his best to answer without telling too many lies.

“Tomas, tell me, is it usual for men to name their horses?”

“That’s an odd question, why do you ask?”

“I just heard once that seasoned warriors don’t name their horses, but you called your horse Duff.”

“I don’t know if it’s usual everywhere, but the warriors I know name their horses. A horse is not a piece of equipment. It is a living creation of God, and in battle, an extension of oneself. I’ve heard some men name their swords. It seems much more reasonable to me for them to name a beast they depend on.”

“Oh, I agree. I can’t imagine not having a name for my horse.”

“Do you have a horse?” asked Tomas.

Her face lit up. “Yes. A black mare. I named her Mab, after the fairy queen.”

“Really?” Tomas was shocked. “I named my first pony Mab.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Nay, I’m serious. An older girl in the clan had told me fairy stories and Mab was always in them.”

“What an odd coincidence. I’ve never heard of another horse named Mab. Even when I named her, some of my more superstitious clansmen warned me that I might be tempting the fairies to work some mischief.”

Tomas laughed, “I never thought about that. I just really liked the name when I was a wee lad.” His grin broadened as another memory came to him.

“What amuses you so?”

“I was just remembering that I liked the name so much, I wanted my parents to name my baby sister Mab.” 

She laughed and Tomas delighted in the sound. It enveloped him in a sweet warmth.

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

Damn. Tomas had inadvertently revealed more than he wished anyone at Cotharach to know. He’d have to tread carefully. “I have two brothers and a sister.”

“Older or younger?”

“All younger.”

“Are any of them married? Do you have nieces and nephews who are pining for Uncle Tomas? For that matter, are you married?”

“Nay, I’m not married and neither are any of them. They’re all much younger. My youngest brother is twelve. My sister’s the oldest of them and she’s but eighteen.”

“My age. Exactly how much older are you?”

He chuckled. He had answered this battery of questions before. Young women at court, anxious to find husbands were no less obvious. “I’m twenty-six, my lady.”

“Eight years between you and your next oldest sibling. My goodness.”

“I was adopted.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And your father? Is he one of Laird Carr’s guardsmen?”

“Nay.” Tomas said no more. A discussion about his parents was best avoided and the easiest way to do that was to change the subject. “Who taught ye to play chess?”

She smiled sadly. “My mother started to teach me when I was a very little girl. I learned how the pieces moved and captured other pieces. Before she died, we played some. But mostly I loved just playing with the pieces like they were dolls. I imagined them to be two royal families, with lots of children.” Vida smiled and blushed. “Mama would play that with me too sometimes. I thought it would be fun to live in a big family.”

“Do ye not have cousins?” Tomas knew full well she did—but she might not know that.

“I have cousins in my mother’s family. We visited them some when she was alive, but not since then.”

“And yer father?”

“He had an older brother who died.”

“What about his children?”

“My uncle didn’t have any children. At least, I don’t think he did. None that lived anyway. If he’d had children, my papa wouldn’t have become laird.”

Tomas scowled. By all the angels, Ruthven never told her about Katherine.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, forcing a smile. “Nay, lass, I’m just trying to figure out how to get out of the corner ye’ve boxed me into. Ye didn’t learn to play chess like this by pretending the pieces were dolls. Did yer da continue yer lessons?”

“Nay. Well, I suppose in a way he did. He wanted me to learn how to read and write and do sums. So, he had our priest teach me.” A warm smile spread across her face. “Father James, was wonderful. He taught me so much more than just those basic skills, including chess. He died when I was ten and it was nearly as painful as when mama died.” She sighed. “But he was elderly and in his last year he’d become very frail. He said he was ready for the angels to lead him into paradise.”

Tomas remembered Father James. He was exceedingly kind and Lady Katherine had adored him. Tomas had known he must have surely passed away by now, but his heart ached a little anyway. Almost without thinking, he made the sign of the cross and said a silent prayer for his soul.

Vida had a slightly bemused look on her face. “That was kind of you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Saying a prayer for the soul of a stranger. It was kind.”

A stranger. Right. Tomas had to be more careful. “I…uh…I have known priests who were dear to me. And I suppose it never hurts to pray for the soul of a priest.”

“Nay, I don’t suppose it does. But it was kind of you anyway.”

They played in silence for a few minutes. He realized she was only three moves from checkmate and he had no way of preventing it. Then, to his surprise, she made a move that killed her chance at checkmate and created an opening for him to win. He’d seen enough of her skill so far to know she’d thrown the game intentionally.

He frowned at her, irritated. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” Her tone was innocent, but her eyes told a different story.

“Put that piece back and make the move ye’d intended to make.”

“I…I…don’t know what you mean.”

His eyes narrowed, as his irritation shifted slowly to anger. “Don’t pretend ye don’t know what ye just did. Make the correct move. Now.”

Her eyes grew suspiciously bright and she blinked as if trying to hold back tears. She looked down, quickly and replayed the move.

He hadn’t intended to make her cry. But her pretending to lose was not only insulting to him, it demeaned her. One of her hands rested on the table and he covered it with his. “Lass, ye’re an extremely skilled chess player. Truly one of the best I’ve ever encountered. Don’t belittle that by intentionally losing.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…I…most people…”

He suspected he knew what she was trying to say. He reached out, putting a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. “I don’t need to win to enjoy the game. I’m sorry you’ve played with people who do.”

She swallowed hard and nodded.

The game ended quickly, but she didn’t meet his eyes when she said checkmate.

He knocked over his king, conceding the win. “Vida, ye’re a worthy opponent. Especially for one whose tutelage ended when ye were ten.”

Her smile returned. “My tutelage didn’t end when I was ten. Father James was a smart man and a reasonably good chess player, but Father Michael is a master of the game and, frankly, ruthless.”

“So, he’s the only one who can best ye?”

She laughed outright, the warmth of it filling him again. “Aye, occasionally, but he doesn’t best me very often. You, however, are every bit as skilled.”

“Thank ye, my lady.”

“You agreed to call me Vida.”

“Well then, thank you, Vida. I look forward to our next match.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Really? You’ll play with me again?”

He grinned.

She blushed. “Stop it. You know what I mean. You’ll play chess with me again?”

“Of course, I will. It never pays to sit back and think one knows everything. The only way I will continue to improve my chess game is to play with people who can best me.”

She canted her head. “I guess it’s a bit like what ye told Papa at supper, about our men. They’re skilled, but only as skilled as the men who taught them, and the only way to improve is to be exposed to new methods.”

“Exactly. I would be doing them a disservice if I didn’t give my best when sparring. It is the only way they’ll learn. Empty victory is meaningless. And I can promise ye this, if I do eventually win a game of chess with ye, the victory will be sweet.”

She grinned, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Don’t count on it happening anytime soon.”

Tomas laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Well then, Tomas, speaking of dreams, it’s getting late. I should retire.”

“Will ye allow me to help ye up the stairs?”

She stood and tested her ankle by bearing weight on it. Pain flashed briefly across her face, but she said, “I think I’ll be fine.”

“Vida, ye’re going to have to stop hiding things. Ye’re ankle hurts and ye’ll do yerself no favors by bearing weight on it if ye don’t have to. Now, I’m going to ask again, will ye allow me to help ye up the stairs?”

She blushed, but gave him a small smile and said, “Aye. Thank ye.”

“There’s a good lass.” He scooped her into his arms and headed towards the stairs.

Emma, who had been waiting at a discreet distance, rose, followed them, and then opened the door to Vida’s chamber so he could carry her in.

Tomas deposited her on the bed. “I’ll leave ye in Emma’s care now. Good night, Vida.”

“Good night, Tomas. Thank you.”

“Ye’re very welcome. I look forward to our rematch tomorrow.”

The look of delight on her face caused something to stir deep in his belly.

“Until tomorrow then,” she said, her eyes shining.

Tomas returned to the hall, found his blanket roll, and went to lay down near Drew who was already snoring. Although tired himself, the events of the day whirled through Tomas’s thoughts. He had scarcely believed his ears when Ambrose Ruthven specifically asked to train with him. Improving Ruthven’s ability to fight with a sword was the absolute last thing Tomas wanted to do and yet he’d agreed to it.

Thinking on it now, he wasn’t sure how he would suppress the desire to run Ruthven through in the process. He grinned as he allowed himself to imagine that. If it happened, it would simply look like an accident. God knows Ruthven’s aptitude for fighting must be rusty at best. Then Tomas set those thoughts aside. He couldn’t intentionally kill a man he’d agreed to train. It would be akin to inviting someone to come for a feast and then murdering them before it was over.

Of course, he could always just build on bad techniques rather than correcting them and teaching new ones. But even as the thought occurred to him, he knew he couldn’t do that either. His pride wouldn’t allow it. If he was going to do this, he’d have to do it right. Damn it all anyway.

Do it right. A slow smile spread across his face as he realized that was the answer. Ruthven didn’t like to play chess with Vida because he didn’t like to lose. Tomas figured he wouldn’t want to look weak either, especially not in front of his men. Training was physically and mentally challenging, so all Tomas had to do was push him as hard as he would any other man. Tomas figured it would take no more than three sessions for Ruthven to back out. Problem solved.

But he still couldn’t sleep. His thoughts drifted to Vida.

She was wholly unexpected.

He loved that she was smart, her devotion to her clan was admirable, and beautiful didn’t begin to describe her. Her coloring was striking. Dark hair, deep green eyes, and ruby lips contrasted with fair skin that pinked beautifully when she blushed. Just thinking about her stirred his desire.

This was madness. As soon as he accomplished what they’d set out to, he wanted nothing more to do with Ambrose Ruthven, his clan, or his daughter. He only wanted to go home. He vowed to keep a little more distance between himself and Vida. He would not lose his heart to a woman he could never have.