The High Road (On Hold)

Chapter Twelve

          "I tell you Campbell, I can geat you a fine blade befvitting an army officer. This old thing cannut hardly cut butter any longer."

The castle blacksmith held Stéaphan's old sidearm in his burly hands. It was true, it was a dull old thing, but it held an important place in Stéaphan's heart. The shortsword from his youth was the only thing he had left of his father, Déirdach.

"No need, Magnus", Stéaphan said to him, "I only need this one sharpened a bit, thank ye."

"As you vill, captan", replied the smith. His Norwegian accent made some pronunciations sound odd in their common tongue. Magnus Gram was a descendent of Viking invaders that raided in Scotland decades earlier. Despite the ancestral animosity, he was a well-respected blacksmith, so old grudges could be overlooked so long as he kept producing his usual crafts.

Stéaphan departed the smithy and strolled across Dunedin Street. Uneven cobblestones paved his approach. Crags and rocks jutting out from the road made riding in wagons or carts bumpy and uncomfortable. Every so often he would pass by soldiers belonging to the other garrisoned units. Another spear unit had taken the place of Stéaphan's castle guards after they had received their new orders from the king.

Dunedin Street intersected with Dunroch Street at the blacksmith shop. It was very close to the marketplace, only a stone's throw away. Stéaphan could hear the din of merchants peddling their wares and Scots eager to peruse the stall looking for the best price on everyday items. It was mostly food sold at the market. Specialty items like most clothing and metalwork were obtained at the shops on Dunedin.

Just as Stéaphan had begun to make his way back to the castle to prep his kit for the day after next, he spotted two familiar ladies entering the street. They immediately recognized each other and both parties smiled upon seeing each other.

"Good day, gentleladies!" Stéaphan called to them. "How fare ye this morn?"

"Good day, captain", said Christelle to him. "Quite well, thank you. Prithee, what has you about the streets of the fortress today? Surely you would rather be readying for the coming days' journey."

"I am, Princess. I was just taking my arms to the smithy for sharpening. What of you? I imagine a princess and her maiden would have much to bring on a trek such as this."

"I'm afraid not. Madewin and I have only our respective trunks to carry." Christelle was anxious to dispel the barrier of formality that stood between them and casual conversation, as friends normally would have with one another.

The captain spoke: "I fear we have not formally met", he said to Madewin. "I am Stéaphan Campbell, officer in the Inverness castle militia. You are Madewin, correct?"

"Yes, captain", she said, "I have served milady for years and am glad to be by her side during this somewhat stressful period of her life."

"The captain doesn't need to concern himself with my stress. I am sure he is under a great amount himself", said Christelle to Stéaphan.

"It is nothing too severe, my lady. I have capable men at my side to assist me."

"Oh yes, we met your friend Meriadoc on the way here. He seems to be a good friend of yours", said the Princess.

"Ah, Meriadoc Lochlain, my flag sergeant. He is a very good man and a better soldier. I am glad to have him at my side, especially as far as drilling is concerned", responded Stéaphan with a smile on his face. "Were you two going somewhere in particular or just strolling about?"

"Just strolling", Christelle said as she turned and shot a quick smile to her friend. She felt her face warm up and her cheeks redden a bit.

"I was about to return to the castle for a bit. Will you two come?" he asked of the ladies.