Just wait a minute.” She ducked back in the tent, kicked Cassy’s side, and hissed, “Get up.”
Cassy muttered, and rolled over.
Tara snatched the blanket off of her. “Get up!”
Tara poked her head outside the tent again to find the man still standing there. The size of the crowd grew by each passing moment. “Just one more minute.”
She hurriedly yanked on her dress and stared into the bloodshot eyes of her friend. “You got me into this,” Tara snarled between clenched teeth.
“Got you into what?” Cassy rubbed her eyes.
“There’s some guy standing out there saying we’re royalty or something. Get up and fix it.”
“What? Royalty?” Cassy’s eyes focused. She scrambled out of her blankets and poked her head outside. “No shit,” she said with glee. Cassy tossed her dress haphazardly over her head. “This is great.
This is going to be so awesome!”
“Great my...” Tara left off the insult and stepped outside the tent. At her appearance, the men bowed, and the ladies curtsied. “Oh great.”
Cassy stumbled into her, noticed the people, and clapped her hands together like a six year old on their birthday.
“Listen, mister,” Tara addressed the ridiculously dressed man.
“Your Highness.”
“Yeah, about that…” Tara batted Cassy’s hand away when she pulled her back. “We don’t…”
“Yes, we do.”
“No. We, don’t!”
Cassy turned Tara around. “Yes, we do. Come on, Tara, this is a once in a lifetime. What’s it going to hurt?”
“Excuse us,” Tara said and yanked Cassy back inside the tent.
Outside the crowd waited. Muffled voices from inside the tent could be heard as the women argued. Heated shouts and the occasional head popping out kept the onlookers entertained.
After several minutes, Cassy emerged smiling and triumphant. “We accept.”
“Very well. Gather your belongings and return to Madame Gwen’s tent before breakfast. You will be told what is expected of you then.”
Elated, Cassy went back inside.
The crowd erupted in laughter.
Chapter 3
“Do you see her anywhere?” Fin asked after their third trip around the camp.
“Nay.”
“Say ‘no’ Duncan. We need act as they do.” Fin smiled at a brunette who openly swept his body with suggestive eyes. “You don’t want the lass to think you are a freak, do you?”
“Nay...No. I don’t.”
“Try and smile as well.” The infamous MacCoinnich scowl was one of his brother’s most favored expressions. Also the most annoying. “What good is all the work we’ve been doing to learn the speech of this time if you come here and keep saying nay and ye? ’Tisn’t right!”
“I’m not hearing many people saying ’ tisn’t!”
“Ah, but the bonny lasses do like a bit of our Scottish flair. Try and remember where we are supposed to be from.”
Fin continued his verbal tips while searching for the red haired lass. He rattled on and on until he noticed he talked to himself.
Duncan stopped. A smile tugged at his mouth, with a hint reaching his eyes.
Fin followed his gaze and saw the object of his expression. “God’s teeth, is that her?”
Gazing at her beauty, Duncan’s mouth had gone dry. “Aye!” Dear God, was she really so fetching last night?
Heart pounding, he trembled. He remembered her puzzling look and the blood on her hands.
Now she stood as regal as a queen surrounded by her court. Her flamed hair flowed to her hips.
Flowers woven into soft tresses made it even lovelier than he remembered. A deep emerald gown with specks of gold and black enhanced her beauty. Even from the distance, Duncan saw the green of her eyes matched the elegant dress.
Although stunning beyond words, the smile she wore was forced, her movements stiff and unnatural. She was flanked by two men standing as guardians at arms, her protectors or more to the point, keepers.
Cassy, on the other hand, smiled, laughed, and carried on with one of her many admirers. Her grin was genuine and not at all alarming.
Duncan watched the maiden move along with her entourage. He wished he knew her name and made a mental note to find out soon.
Making their way toward the dining area, Duncan saw her eyes roll back in disgust when strangers bowed as she passed. Freaks, Duncan heard in his head, almost like she whispered it.
One of the protectors caught her arm when walking over a step. The lass flinched, obviously uncomfortable, and pulled away.
Seeing her shy away in distaste, Duncan was instantly on alert. He moved a hand to the hilt of his sword.
Fin’s voice broke the spell. “Easy, brother.” Fin’s arm shot out. “Those are Grainna’s men. We don’t need them knowing we’re about. Come, let’s eat and watch. We’ll have our chance.”
Fin led Duncan to a table occupied by others.
Soon, a serving woman brought them a plate of food and filled their cups with ale.
Duncan surveyed the room and became aware of the many men watching her. Their lustful looks made Duncan’s hair stand on end. The reaction was natural to want to guard a virgin from the sneers of men, or so he told himself. They only wanted to dishonor her. But somehow, he knew his protective instincts meant more.
Hell, if one of the men here had made good on their promising look, she wouldn’t be in such danger now. Fin made conversation with the others. It didn’t take long for the talk to go to what was happening with the women at the head table.
“I haven’t seen them before,” a stout man of middle age told them. “Most of the time Gwen picks patrons who have been with us previously.”
“What have they been picked for?” Fin inquired.
“You’re looking at much of it. They are treated as fair royalty, complete with costumes, service, food and accommodations.”
“Don’t forget the tournament,” his wife reminded him.
“Oh yeah, the tournament.”
“What happens then?” Duncan spoke up.
“The knights fight for the right to take the arm of the chosen one.” The older man nodded toward the head table. “Since her hair is down and she’s posing as a marriageable virgin, Gwen will ask for a mock handfasting ceremony at the end. It’s all very entertaining. When was the last time we saw that, Marge?”
“Goodness, John. I don’t really remember. It must be at least two years.” Marge waved a hand in front of her face, shooing away a fly.