Alasdair was well-trained in the art of sword fighting, and Coinneach eagerly watched every move Alasdair made. His feinting maneuvers when he came at Coinneach, Alasdair’s footwork, the power of his swings and thrusts.
Then Coinneach made a fatal mistake, thinking he had this down now, and thrust at Alasdair, but his new friend knocked the sword from his hand and sent it flying. Coinneach laughed. He hadn’t had this much of a challenge ever.
As soon as Coinneach lost his makeshift sword, Alasdair fought Tamhas, but he was easier on him, sensing that Coinneach’s brother was more timid, less sure of himself, which was why Coinneach needed someone more of a challenge to fight.
Coinneach retrieved his sword and observed Alasdair as he kept his feet planted apart just enough for good balance and struck at Tamhas’s sword. Coinneach admired Alasdair’s ability to move about—his agility and speed, throwing off the enemywho might be looking to take down a foe who would stand still for him.
Alasdair didn’t strike Tamhas’s sword hard enough to send it flying, though he could have. Instead, he was teaching him the rudiments of fighting. When Tamhas thrust his sword at Alasdair, their new friend swept Tamhas’s sword away from him with a whack.
Coinneach glanced at Alasdair’s da to see what he was doing. To his surprise, he was chatting with his da like he was an important man. At the same time, both men watched to see how the boys were faring.
Alasdair was so easy on Tamhas that it took a while before he knocked his sword out of his hand. Coinneach admired Alasdair for building his brother’s confidence. Tamhas was much better at working on the farm.
Then Alasdair turned to face Coinneach. “Ready.”
Coinneach smiled. “Aye.” But his stance had improved this time after watching Tamhas fight his brother. He countered Alasdair’s thrust, whacking his wooden sword away. He even forced Alasdair back a few times, delighting all three boys.
After an hour of fighting, it was a draw. Alasdair couldn’t make Coinneach lose his sword, nor could he do that with Alasdair’s. They all collapsed in the meadow.
“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Alasdair asked, watching the clouds slip across the sky.
“Nay, but I would love to,” Coinneach said.
They looked at Tamhas, and he licked his lips in nervousness. “Aye.”
“Good. While the boar is still cooking, we’ll borrow a couple of horses from our men and ride. Oh, and Chief Daire is my uncle. My parents died when I was young, and so he has been my da.” Alasdair ran off to speak with his da.
Coinneach and Tamhas walked over to join him.
“We’re going to ride,” Alasdair confirmed to them.
Coinneach’s da raised his brows, smiling.
Then the riding lessons began. They walked the horses at first and then trotted. Coinneach had never felt such freedom and couldn’t have been happier. Once the horse bounced Tamhas around, he clung to it for dear life.
They finally galloped across the field, the wind blowing Coinneach’s hair over his back. He’d never felt anything like it. Exhilarating, magical. He and the horse were in sync as if they had grown up together, moving across the vast land in no time.
They slowed to a trot and then a walk until Alasdair stopped his horse. “What do you think? Do you like riding?”
Coinneach grinned. What he wouldn’t give to have a horse of his own. “Walking here from the croft would have taken us forever.”
Tamhas looked a little pale, but he was smiling. “’Tis great fun.”
The men nearer the croft looked like tiny figures off in the distance.
“It’s the only way to travel unless you run as wolves. Do you want to run as wolves?” Alasdair patted his roan.
Tamhas immediately said, “Aye.”
“We will return the horses, and then you can show me your forest,” Alasdair said.
“Aye, that we’ll do.” Coinneach was glad they could do something small in return for Alasdair after all the grand things he had shown them.
They rode at a trot back to the men, and Alasdair told his da, “We are going to run as wolves in the woods.”
“Aye, but dinna tarry too long as the boar shall be ready before long, and then we’ll be on our way.”
The aroma of the wild boar cooking made all the boys’ stomachs grumble.
