Author: Can I say, I'm so happy that this story is getting so much love. It's been a dream of mine to writer something like this...and to have you guys enjoy it, as much as I enjoy writing it makes glad i started on this journey of becoming a writer. As you all know I usually stay within the 1,000 to 2,000 bracket...it's makes it easier on me, bu~~~t, I might do a little more for all the love you guys are giving.
Chapter Seventeen
Marching the four girls downstairs, Lyla was amazed at how close in age they were. The eldest resembled her elder brother with freckles and grey eyes, but where her brother had dark brown hair, she carried a long, thick mop of black hair.
It had been braided into two rows by Ericka, who currently held the hand of two of the girls. Their matching deep rose colored hair and deep blue-grey eyes made Lyla assume their looks came from their mother. The two were obviously twins as well. The two babbled to Ericka, who simply nodded, not understanding any of it.
The eldest turned and spoke to Morag, who frowned and turned her gaze to Lyla. "She wants to know what a naming ceremony is. I donnae know how to explain, as only men go through such things."
Lyla stopped, causing the other who'd been following her to stop. The three boys who'd been running back and forth behind her bumped into each other, their shared dark brown eyes looking up at her in confusion.
"Ah, that's right!" Lyla whipped around and pointed towards the kitchen. "Tell the girls to follow me to the kitchen."
Morag stared at her in wide-eyed confusion.
"Morag?" Lyla said, waiting.
"Uh... yes, Lass." She turned to the girl and quickly spoke. The girls nodded and all four followed her. The boys, having separated after their collision, stared after them, while Ericka motioned for them to sit with her in the Great Hall.
"How old is the eldest?" Lyla asked as she went into the pantry, grabbing the bag filled with flour.
"She says she's fifteen summers. She doesn't ken her birth date," Morag said, plopping into the rocking chair near the hearth. Noticing Lyla grabbing up supplies, she asked, "What are ye about?"
Lyla plopped the bag of flour in front of the four girls: one black, two reds, a mahogany head turned to face her. Surprised at the sight of the large bag of flour, she said, "They will get their name once they can bake a loaf of bread."
"What?" Morag said, slack-jawed. "Even the youngest?" She glanced at the shortest of the four. "She can only be nine summers old."
Lyla stood straight, placing her hands on her hips. She gave the girls a hard look. "A woman earns her name with her hands. She doesn't let anything be given to her."
Morag shook her head in mild amusement. "Ye ken ye're a funny lass? Truly funny."
Lyla gave the woman an annoyed look before she let it melt and smiled. "Well, it won't be so funny. You'll be the one speaking for me... and you'll be judging their loaves of bread, Morag."
Morag gave her a disgruntled look and opened her mouth having half a mind to scold the lass and tell her she willnae be doing anything. But, seeing the pitiful faces of the lasses made her close it with a click, and letting out a defeated, she said, "Aye, I'll help ye, but nae more. You must learn Gaelic, Lass."
"Yes, yes," Lyla said. Grabbing her apron off the wall, she quickly tied it around her waist. "Well, let's get started."
"What happened to you?" Ericka asked, astonished by her sister's appearance. "Did the girls not like your idea?"
Lyla's expression became blank until she looked down, following her sister's pointed gaze. She had flour covering her skirts and turning, she walked over to a well-polished shield on the wall. Staring at herself, she suddenly laughed. Turning around, she shook her head. She had flour covering her from top to bottom. "No, I was showing the girls how to bake bread since we'll need some tonight for dinner anyway. The twins got a little too... excited."
Ericka nodded, but couldn't hold back the smile she currently donned. Lyla turned her attention to three boys, or rather, two were boys, but the eldest of them looked to be fourteen.
"You, follow," Lyla said. Turning on her heel, she turned and headed outside.
The three looked at Ericka, who shrugged and motioned for them to follow her sister outside to the courtyard.
Gavin rode his mount from patrol. He was wet and tired as his men had encountered some Sinclairs crossing their border, and the dumb men led them on a wild chase across a river.
His eyes alighted on the sight of his men standing around in a semi-circle. They were cheering. Dismounting, he was followed by Alec and Erwin over to the men.
"Get them, boy!" one of soldiers shouted, the laughter of the others barely drowning him out.
As another yelled, "That's it, ladies, don't let the lasses run ye 'round the nose."
Gavin shoved his way through the crowd of shoulders, only to stop in wide-eyed shock at the sight in the center of the courtyard.
Lyla had her skirts hiked up, giving view to her long legs, and her hair was completely out of its leather thong. Her face was covered in dirt and something white. She stood with her legs braced apart. Leaning forward, her eyes were focused on a young man in front of her. "You're going to have to do more than that if you want a name!" she taunted loudly, wiping sweat from her brow.
Gavin turned his eyes to the lad who stood on the other side of the makeshift ring. He was worse off, covered in dirt and his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He was the younger brother to Jamie. The boy seemed to be having trouble standing, but he straightened and determination caused his jaw to turn mulish.
"I won't lose!" he shouted in Gaelic, and he ran at Lyla, who didn't move, but grinned.
Gavin moved to block the boy, but before he could, Lyla shifted to the side last minute, and turning halfway, she hit him in the back of the shoulders, causing him to fall to the ground.
She smirked as she lowered her hands and pulled something from her hip; it was a red pouch. "It seems your name will be staying with me." She bounced the pouch in her hand up and down.
The boy growled and pushed back up, and turning, he ran at her with amazing speed and Lyla dropped the pouch. Wrapping her arm around his waist, she grunted as she lifted him upside down. "Ugh, you're heavy."
The boy yelled and screamed in protest, but Gavin noticed he had a wide smile on his face.
Lyla turned in circles, holding him. She stopped, wobbled and loosened her hold. The boy slipped from her hold and he hit the ground rolling. But with his youthful vigor, he stood and ran over to the red pouch still laying in the dirt where Lyla had left it.
He rushed over to it. Grabbing it, he lifted it up high. "I got it!"
"Oh, no, you don't," Layla playfully growled as she made her way over to him.
"Enough!" Gavin appeared in front of her and she blinked up at him in confusion.
The other soldiers who'd been cheering and egging on the boy became quiet at the appearance of their laird.
Lyla frowned, looking at all the blank expressions of the soldiers. Turning her annoyed expression to Gavin, she crossed her arms. "You're always ruining my fun. Do you have something against fun?"
Gavin gave her an incredulous look. "Yer fun isnae for me, Lass." He motioned to her legs. "Cover yer limbs from the men's eyes."
She glanced at her legs but didn't bother lowering her skirts. "I don't care if they see my legs."
Gavin's frown deepened and he stepped forward. Grabbing her arm, he jerked her towards him. "Hey!" Grabbing the edge of her skirts, he pulled it down.
He let her go abruptly, giving her a dark look. "It bothers me, Lass. As yer laird, you'll nae tell me nae."
"You're not my laird," Lyla snapped, her temper flaring at his manhandling.
"Ye're under my protection, which, aye, Lass, makes me yer laird," Gavin said. He grinned when he saw her jaw lift a notch in defiance. "Till yer people come, Lass, you'll follow my orders."
"You-"
"Okay... okay, let's just calm down."
Ericka placed a hand on Lyla's shoulder, giving her sister a hard look before she turned her equally dirt-covered visage towards Gavin. "We were just trying to put the kids through their naming ceremony."
She motioned to the three boys, who were talking and bragging to each other, each holding a pouch made from bright cloth. "They were to wrestle us for the pouch that would hold their name inside. My sister just wanted to give them their own identity."
Gavin, impressed by Lyla's willingness to play with the boys, turned to look at her, but he was met with a glare and she jerked her eyes away from him with a humph.
"Let's go, Ericka," she snapped. Turning on her heel, she marched back towards the keep. Her sister quickly apologized, and grabbing the boys, chased after her sister, whose angry steps pushed her to move faster.
"Ye've angered the lass," Ewan said, his tone amused.
Gavin shot him a glare before cursing. Turning, he walked back towards his mount. He would put his own mount up as he needed to work off his frustration from dealing with a stormy-eyed lass.