Beitris sat in the wagon quietly beside Elspeth, who occasionally muttered under her breath. Finally, Beitris had had enough and laughed. “When are ye going to stop this foolishness, Elspeth?”

“What foolishness?”

“Yer obvious resentment and dislike of Alasdair.” Her friend said nothing. “Elspeth, it’s been nearly two months. Has he shouted at me? Has he hit me? Has he starved me?”

“Nay, but he doesn’t act much like husband either, does he?”

“What do ye mean? He’s put a roof over our heads, there’s plenty of fresh game on the table, firewood chopped—”

“There’s more to being a husband than doing the things that he’s supposed to do!” Elspeth interrupted.

Beitris shook her head, not understanding what Elspeth was getting at. She had known from the very beginning that Elspeth didn’t trust Alasdair, but he had done nothing to perpetuate this attitude. If anything, Alasdair had shown much patience, not only with her, but with Elspeth’s blunt attitude. She had known Elspeth long enough to know when she was upset with someone. Her voice would grow lower, her words clipped, as if just by sound alone, Beitris could see the frown, the scowl, the pinched lips of her friend. She had once teased her friend about it, and Elspeth had given pause and thought to her comments. As she did so now.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Beitris,” Elspeth said, her voice soft over the steady clop of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road and the squeak of the wheels as they rolled over the rutted path toward the village.

“And what ye mean, there’s more to being a husband than doing the things he supposed to do?”

Again, Elspeth sighed.

Beitris, so closely attuned to ever mannerism, every sound of her friend, could imagine her posture as she turned slightly in the seat to see the vague shadowy outline of her friend sitting beside her, both of them bouncing slightly every time a wheel hit a dip in the road. “Don’t shake yer head at me,” she warned lightly.

Another sigh from Elspeth. “For someone who’s supposed to be blind, ye sure do see a lot.”

“Because I know ye so well, Elspeth. Now tell me, what has Alasdair done to provoke this dislike ye bear?”

“He was a bully—”

“I mean since we’ve been adults, Elspeth,” Beitris said, shaking her own head. “That was a long time ago, and truth be told, most of what we knew about Alasdair back then was merely gossip. He never came into town all that much, busy on his father’s farm, and then by the time we would’ve taken notice, he was gone.” She placed her hand on Elspeth’s holding the reins. “So, what is it that annoys ye so?”

“I just don’t… I just don’t think he’s going to give ye what ye need,” she finally replied. “When he looks at ye, it’s like he’s…”

“Studying a bug?” Beitris smiled and answered with a nod and a soft laugh. “I feel him watching me quite frequently.”

“I don’t like it.”

Again, Beitris laughed softly. “He’s curious, Elspeth. Ye’ve known me so long, and ye know me so well that ye are not curious about my blindness. Ye don’t wonder how I can do certain things. Try to see it from Alasdair’s perspective. Think back to when ye first met me. Weren’t ye surprised by some of the things that I could do?”

“Yes,” she replied cringingly. “Especially the way ye could climb a tree.”

This time they both laughed.

“He’s studying me, Elspeth, much like ye probably did when we were children. But ye’ve grown so used to me now that ye don’t even think twice about it.” She paused. “Alasdair needs to learn what I can do. He has to understand my limitations, and when he should leave me alone or when he should offer help. He can’t know that immediately.”

“I understand that, but…”

“But what?”

“He hasn’t bedded ye yet,” Elspeth said bluntly. “I don’t think he wants to. I think he’s afraid.”

Beitris felt the heat of a flush rise in her neck and into her cheeks. “I’m not worried about that,” she said. “Perhaps he’s giving me time to adjust, to get used to him. We both know that he can take his rights anytime he wishes, whether I agree to it or not.”

Beitris was relieved that Alasdair had not yet insisted on his matrimony right. Maybe he was afraid. He was still adjusting to being the husband of a blind wife. The possibility of adding an infant to the family and raising a child was often overwhelming enough for a man, but how would a child do with a blind mother?

“Doesn’t it bother ye?” Elspeth questioned. “He doesn’t hold ye, he doesn’t hug ye, he doesn’t kiss ye. The only time ye hold his hand is when he’s outside with ye, showing ye something that ye need to avoid, or—”

“Do I hug him? Do I kiss him? Do I reach for his hand for no reason?” She spoke gently but with a firm undertone. “We must both have time, Elspeth. We didn’t court before his marriage proposal. He came home from war and was told that our fathers had come to an agreement, and that’s the first time he heard of me. Well, except when we were children.”

The two sat quietly for several moments, the small wagon bouncing and jolting her this way and that.

“Ye have never been courted, Elspeth, and neither have I, but I would suppose that every couple is different, don’t ye? My mother died and now I don’t even remember how my parents interacted with one another.” She turned toward Elspeth’s shape. “What about yer parents?”

Oddly, Beitris realized that she and Elspeth had never really talked much about romance, courting, their dreams of someday finding husbands or having families.

“Ye might say that they tolerated each other,” she said, then sighed again. “Beitris, don’t ye think that some couples are happy? That some couples find love? A love that encourages a devotion and loyalty so deep that they feel they can’t live without one another?”

Beitris understood what Elspeth was saying. “I think some couples must indeed be happy and gladly devoted to one another,” she finally replied. “But really, what can a woman expect? As long as her husband doesn’t beat her, doesn’t abuse her, puts a roof over their head and food on the table, can she really expect much more? Especially when she’s been wed to a stranger?”

“I’m sorry, Beitris,” Elspeth said.

Beitris felt Elspeth’s hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I guess I’m feeling a bit resentful that yer father has done this to ye. And I am grateful to ye—and Alasdair—for allowing me to live with ye. But I think I am in the way. Perhaps I should go home. If ye two were alone, it might help ye two to develop a bond—”

“Nay!” Beitris said, cringing at the fear she heard in her voice. “Nay, please stay. For a while longer. I’m sure that Alasdair doesn’t mind.” She offered a wry grin. “Besides, if ye weren’t there to be my companion, he might feel even more put upon, having to do all the things for me that ye do.”

Elspeth laughed. “Like what? Ye don’t need my help with the cooking, not much anyway. Yer perfectly capable of doing the laundry by yerself, ye can so most everything, and what ye can’t do, Alasdair could probably do himself. Once the garden is planted, and ye memorize where everything is, ye will be able to take care of that too.” She chuckled again, softly and without humor. “So, ye tell me, Beitris, exactly what do ye need me for?”

“I need ye for yer friendship.” Beitris smiled. “For yer loyalty and yer support.” She sighed. “While I’m not afraid of Alasdair physically, I… I don’t really want to be alone with him, at least not yet. Please, stay with us. Ye can put up with him for a wee while longer, can’t ye?”

Elspeth didn’t say anything for several moments, but then she too sighed. “I’ll stay for another month or two, but if I feel like I’m holding ye back, interfering with the ability of the two of ye to get to know one another better, to bond, then I will go back home to my cottage. I can still come during the day to help out when needed, but the more I think about it, the more I’m afraid that I’m just… I’m just in the way.”

Beitris smiled and again reached for her friend’s hand. “Never, Elspeth. Ye’ll never be in the way. We made a promise a long time ago, remember? That we would stick together, no matter what? Even if one of us got married first?”

Beitris knew that when they had made that promise, they both assumed that Elspeth would be the one to marry, start a family, and Beitris would live to be an old maid with her father. It was funny how things turned out, but she didn’t feel like laughing, especially when she heard the sound of hooves approaching, trotting horses pulled to an abrupt halt a short distance away.

Elspeth also pulled the wagon to a halt.

A cloud of dust sifted over the wagon, causing her to blink and softly cough.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Who are ye?” Elspeth demanded. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what do we have here?”

Beitris frowned at the tone of the speaker’s voice. And the accent. Someone from the lowlands down by the coast, perhaps? She heard the sound of horses blowing, tails swishing at flies, the creak of leather, of a sword drawn from a scabbard. A short sword at the sound of it. She forced her expression to remain calm as she turned her face toward the voices, tried to still the alarmed pounding of her heart, her hands clasped in her lap.

“Where are you two going?” a different male voice asked.

“To the village, as if it’s any of yer business,” Elspeth snapped. “Now move out of the way. Yer blocking the road.”

A chortle of laughter was followed by a snort of derision. Sounds of creaking, horse hooves stomping impatiently, then a rush of movement.

Beside her, Elspeth screamed, causing Beitris to startle.

Just as she turned toward her friend, arms reached out and grabbed her. Two large hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her roughly from the wagon seat. She didn’t make a sound, instead she struggled wildly, fear racing through her.

Who were these people? What did they want?

Her wriggling caused the man grabbing on to her to partly lose his grip, and she went down on one knee, wincing in pain. She lashed out, hands balled into fists. With all her strength, she swung with her hands, and one punch made contact. To her surprise, the man holding her immediately let go and yowled in pain. He cursed under his breath, groaning as she heard him sink to his knees on the ground beside her. Afraid he would grab her again, she estimated where his face would be, punched again, and her fist connected with something squishy, and then hard. Another grunt of surprise, followed by a grunt of pain. Laughter erupted from at least three other men.

Beitris, eyes wide, trying to discern the moving shadows around her, heart pounding and panic tearing through every muscle in her body, stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her kirtle as she finally managed to scramble onto her hands and knees, then stood, her arms swinging wildly, one making contact with the back of the wagon and the other hand sweeping at air.

“Run, Beitris, run!”

The panicked cry came from Elspeth and Beitris didn’t hesitate. She began to run, but she didn’t know where. Mouth open, eyes wide, as if she could force herself to see, she scrambled away from the wagon, away from Elspeth’s panicked voice, the laughter and curses of the men following her.

She felt grass beneath her feet, then tripped over something and fell flat on her face. Heather wafted into her nostrils.

More laughter.

She grasped for anything, fingers searching the ground for anything she could use as a weapon and found a fist-sized rock. She clutched her hand desperately around it. She quickly gained her feet, but was turned around now, not sure where to go.

A rush of movement approached so quickly she couldn’t duck out of the way. A hand grabbed her braid, clutched tightly, and yanked. A fist struck the side of her face and she cried out in anger, frustration, and fear, her hand tightening around the rock. She twisted, swung with her right hand, and made contact once more, the rock making a thunking sound as it connected with flesh.

Another growl of pain, and then another hard slap that split her lip open. She felt warm blood dripping down her chin. Pain erupted in her jaw, shot through her head, forcing her to stumble backward and lose her balance. Only the hand still clutching her braid kept her from falling, although her knees sagged, her scalp tingling as tears formed in her eyes.

“Beitris!”

The sound of flesh meeting flesh.

An enraged scream from Elspeth, while Beitris tried to get her feet under her. “Let me go!” she screamed. “Let me go!”

More laughter, more threats from the man holding her as he physically dragged her closer to the others. What was he going to do? What did they want? How could she—

“Enough!”

The order came from higher than shoulder level, and Beitris knew that whoever had made the command was still mounted.

“Let them go.”

Beitris felt the tension crackling in the air. Finally, her captor shoved her away from him, and she fell to her knees, knocking her shoulder against one of the wheels of their wagon. Seconds later, she felt Elspeth’s arms around her shoulders, holding her close.

“How dare ye—”

“We’re looking for a man,” the leader of the group said. “A rebel with a scar down one side of his face. He’s a wanted man. Anyone harboring him or who knows where he is and doesn’t tell us will be punished.”

“Yer men had no right to attack us—”

Beitris clutched at Elspeth, feeling her tension and fury shaking her body. She couldna allow Elspeth to lose her temper, much as she had moments ago.

“Have you seen him? We heard he used to live in this village.”

“Who are ye?” Elspeth demanded, refusing to answer.

“There’s a reward on his head. Now answer my question, or I’ll let these men have their way with you.”

“Nay, we don’t know who yer talking about!” Elspeth snapped. “Go away now. There’s no one around here like that. Go on yer way and leave us alone!”

A few mutters, the sound of someone spitting, and then, to Beitris’s great relief, she heard the men walk back to their horses and mount. She knew they stared at the both of them and she glared unseeing at them, hiding her fear behind a glower as their horses turned.

Then one of them spoke, his voice tinged with amusement. “You ought to be ashamed of yerself, Angus, letting a blind girl like that get the best of you. You’ll not live this down for quite some time now, will you?”

A chortle of laughter from the others followed. Her heart still pounding, her hands tightly clutched the cart’s wheel, so they wouldn’t see her trembling, she felt it fortuitous that she was already on her knees or she would have collapsed then and there.

Finally, they rode away.

Neither of them said anything for several moments, only their harsh breathing breaking the silence now surrounding them.

Beitris finally spoke. “Are ye all right, Elspeth?”

“Yes,” Elspeth replied, lifting Beitris to her feet. “They ripped the shoulder of my gown, but ye managed to distract them before they could do worse.” She laughed, tremulous and shaky. “For someone who can’t see anything but shadows, ye hit yer mark. Twice. First in the bastard’s codpiece, and then in his temple with that rock.”

Beitris felt herself overtaken by a wild trembling, the aftermath of panic as they clutched one another. “Are they gone? Truly gone?”

“Yes,” Elspeth said. “They headed back toward the village.”

“Did ye recognize any of them?”

“No. I’ve never seen any of them around here before.”

“Let’s go back home,” Beitris suggested. “Alasdair needs to know.”

“He already does.”

“What?” Beitris asked, turning toward her friend. “He already knows there’s a price on his head? That people are looking for him?”

“Yes,” Elspeth said gently. “That’s why we’re riding into town for supplies. I was going to tell ye, but…”

“Let’s go home,” Beitris said, feeling her way around the wagon and climbing into the seat, her face stinging and her head still pounding. Home. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to reach the safety of the stone house and Alasdair’s strong presence.