Blood of Quartz

Chapter 16

Abigail's heart had stopped when she had seen Erik on Firestorm, slowly walking out towards the fields. His armour and leathers giving him a quiet, yet imposing look. He turned at her voice and when their eyes had met, she stopped breathing, the tightness on the bodice of her clothing restricting, too confining and close.

"Is this your newly found cousin, my lady?" one of the young women behind her asked. "He is spectacular."

Another girl behind her agreed, and they whispered about how handsome he was as she left them behind to greet him.

His presence in the tent had distracted her, and when the entire scene with the Duke had played out, she had not been looking at his father, or at the Duke. She had been watching Erik. The squareness of his jaw, the way his hair, oiled and tied behind him, showed his profile. He was strong and masculine, his slightly hawkish nose giving him the air of someone who could be dangerous. His stance strong, his hand on the pommel of his sword confident, and the armour... She rather enjoyed the fierce and protective glamour he'd shown when he stood beside his father.

"He's your cousin. Your distant cousin," she repeated to herself, and adjusted Mouse, still asleep, in her arms. It would not do to think about him the way she was.

When Erik grabbed the swaddling cloth and handed it back to her, his blue eyes staring into hers had been unnerving yet again. She was half-glad he had left, and wishing he could have stayed. She was confused, trying to put it out of her head and focus on the surrounding pomp.

She would have loved to have her great-aunt with her right then to distract her. Noora declined to go, saying her old bones would not like the steep slopes. Abigail assumed it was because the dowager countess found these types of things boring, and would rather stay in her gardens and her suite. She had also stayed well away from the Duke since he arrived, and the Duke had only greeted her and then left her alone. Abigail sensed a current of mutual dislike running between them, also evidenced by Noora's remarks about him when he arrived.

The women she had walked down with were chatting and giggling in the background, most of them not interested in the goings-on of war, more interested in being outside the keep walls, orgling the soldiers and gossiping. She had not spent much time with the younger women, wrapped up in Mouse.

Mouse stirred and she cooed. The reason she was here was right in front of her, not out on a field, or gathered together on cushions, jabbering like magpies.

"Oh Mouse. I can't wait to show you the sea, and help you pick shells from the sand, and put pretty rocks in a glass vase," she whispered as she tickled her foot. "You will love Kirkam House. I promise!"

A horn from down in the field brought her eyes up, and she gathered Mouse up onto her shoulder and joined her uncle, the Duke, and various others at the front of the tent. The breeze whipped her hair around, and she balanced Mouse on one arm while she pushed it back.

"Allow me, my lady," The Duke exclaimed as he turned to her, seeing her struggle. He abruptly produced a silvery silk ribbon, and he expertly leashed her hair, tying it under the braid at the back, smoothing back the strands that were getting away a moment before. The ribbon was soft against the nape of her neck, and she blushed, his hands warm and deft as he fussed. No man had ever been so forward with her before. Her uncle simply nodded at the Duke and said nothing. This must be normal behaviour for such a flamboyant man, that it wouldn't cause a ruffle amongst anyone gathered with them.

"Thank you, your Grace, most unexpected," she murmured and curtseyed awkwardly.

"Nonsense. The colour suits your dress, and I daresay you have your hands full with that bundle. I'm surprised you care for her yourself, and don't have nannies! Never mind, it is a beautiful thing, to behold a child so pink and healthy as her. You are a wonder, my dear," he babbled, and pulled out a fan, despite the cool weather. "You are a lovely young woman and deserve a treat!"

She smiled despite the warnings of being wary around the Duke. He had been nothing but charitable in any of the dealings she had seen, and he felt harmless in his presence. She knew that looks could be deceiving, but she relaxed.

"Thank you again, Your Grace," she repeated, "It is very soft and beautiful."

The Duke patted her on the shoulder, gave her another flash of a smile, and moved off towards a servant who was carrying in two cups, demanding some food be brought up.

"Does he always carry bits of ribbon in his pockets?" she whispered to her uncle as she stepped over to him.

"The Duke carries many things in those pockets, some better left there," her uncle said, peering at the ribbon and then chuckling again. "He is right, it suits you. He may have purposely brought it to gift you. Be careful, Abigail."

She nodded, sobered, and again touched the ribbon on her head, enjoying how smooth it was under her fingers. A fine gift indeed! She resolved to keep it and hand it down to Mouse someday. Everything was about this child now, she thought little of her own needs except for her longing for home.

She returned to watching the fray in front of them. It looked to be about four hundred strong men, some on horseback, most on foot, slowly coming to order in the field, facing the tents. She could see spears, lances, swords, a motley of shield patterns, a patchwork of crests and colours like an abstracted tapestry. A few forks, and even what looked to be a rusty trident peeked out, waving erratically. Men, in various stages of armour, shuffling, looking to their left and right, while several other men, more properly armoured, barked commands.

"How many bowmen?" someone asked further down the tent from where she was, and she craned her neck to see who it was, to no avail.

"We have twenty or so," came the reply from an officer—who she now knew was Commander Harrt—as he strode into the tent, his helm under his arm. "My Lord, we are ready for the Duke's inspection."

With that, her uncle and the Duke slowly made their way down to the line of men. She scanned the crowd, taking in the faces, some dirty, some bearded, many not. They all looked so young. To be brought here, and taken off to God's knew where, just to fight for land that the King really didn't need. It felt wrong, and wasteful, and Abigail wanted to turn away and put the distaste from her mouth. She caught sight of a massive man on a horse, an axe strapped over his back, his beard and hair a wild thing with a mind of its own. Beside him sat an equally burly man, this one with fire red hair drawn back into a braid. His eyes darted intelligence, and he looked up as she stopped, seemingly straight at her with a smile that spoke volumes of his personality.

He was daunting in his presence beside his friend, and she averted her eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. Conversation and laughter echoed into her as she buried her nose into Mouse's wisps of hair, inhaling her scent and calming her mind.

She looked up again in time to see Erik join them, a slap on the red-haired man's back, sharing something that made them laugh. Firestorm had woken up, and was at least standing at attention as they waited for the Duke to make his way down the line, shuffling through the grass and mud trodden by many feet. His slippers were now stained with the wet. They were wholly impractical, if not beautifully sewn. A complete opposite of the browns and blacks of the men he was inspecting, old boots and shoes tied together with cords, stamping as he made his way. To a man, they all looked away as the Duke walked along.

Erik looked more comfortable than he had before, sitting astride the horse, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword. She got the distinct impression as he had scrambled aboard the horse upon leaving the tent, that he didn't ride much.

The red-haired man pointed at the tent, and Erik looked up. She stood still as their eyes met, and he raised a hand to her hesitantly. She raised her own back, then dropped it to Mouse, patting her back.

She turned slightly to hide her face as heat rose up across her cheeks. The last thing she wanted anyone to see was how Erik flustered her.