Once a Warrior by Karyn Monk Page A

Alpin and the elders of MacFane’s condition before he arrived. She clattered into the courtyard to find her castle in an uproar. People were pouring out of every door, hastily adjusting their best gowns and plaids, while a line of children were being given a quick washing by the well. A wooden dais had been erected in the center of the yard, upon which five young men were blowing loudly into bagpipes trimmed with lengths of colorful plaid. Trying to be heard above the racket, a crowd was shouting directions at a group of men on the roof who were struggling to lower an enormous gold banner. A rope fell and the fabric unfurled prematurely, revealing a fearsome black wolf standing guard over a delicate white lamb. Women rushed back and forth carrying platters piled high with bread, meat, and fruit, and great casks of wine and ale were being rolled across the yard to a corner where dozens of cups were being assembled on tables. There were entertainers everywhere, some juggling brightly colored balls, some reciting poetry, and others tumbling and walking on their hands. No one took any notice of her as they hurried past, fully preoccupied with practicing their part in the upcoming ceremony.
    She spied the eldest member of the council pacing back and forth, his white head bent studiously over a wrinkled leaf of paper. “Angus!” she called, dismounting.
    “No time to talk now, lad, no time,” muttered Angus. “The Black Wolf will be here any moment, and I must memorize this speech.”
    “Angus, it is Ariella.”
    He lifted his gaze in astonishment. “What are you doing still dressed like that? Your betrothed will be here any moment. Hurry and put on a gown, there’s no need for you to pretend to be a lad anymore.”
    “MacFane doesn’t know I’m alive, Angus,” Ariella said urgently. “I must speak with Alpin and the rest of the council. I have to make them understand—”
    “Ariella, is that you?”
    Niall was striding toward her, his face lit with relief. At the mention of her name everyone suddenly stopped.
    “Ariella!” burst out Elizabeth, waving happily from a second-floor window. Her smile fell as she took in her appearance. “Oh, my, you must change! Hurry and come inside!”
    A group of women began to usher her toward the castle. “No, wait,” she protested. “I must speak with you first—”
    “How long until MacFane arrives with his army, lass?” demanded Dugald. “The men in the towers have not sighted them yet.”
    She turned to the second-eldest council member. “That is what I need to talk to you about—”
    “Why are you still dressed like that?” asked Niall, frowning. “Does MacFane not know who you are?”
    A flurry of eager questions stifled her attempt to answer.
    “Is he as mighty as they say?”
    “Do his warriors number a thousand?”
    “Did he perform feats of great strength during your journey?”
    “Will you grant him the sword right away, or will you wait?”
    Her people crowded around her, unable to contain their excitement as they sought more information about their next laird.
    “Let me see her.”
    The softly spoken command had the silencing effect of a mighty crack of thunder. The crowd surrounding her parted, creating an opening for Alpin.
    “Come to me, child.”
    Ariella obediently went to him. The ancient man leaned heavily against his cane and studied her, his black eyes sharp and assessing.
    “So,” he murmured after a moment, “he is not what you expected.”
    She shook her head.
    “And you think my vision was flawed.”
    She did not answer, reluctant to disparage MacFane in front of her clan. It didn’t matter. Alpin could read her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken them.
    He nodded. “Let us see him, then,” he said quietly. “This injured beast.”
    “They’re coming!” cried young Colin from the tower. “Duncan, Andrew, and two others. They have ridden ahead of the Black Wolf’s army!”
    “Listen to me,” Ariella pleaded urgently,