buttocks. The last time she’d shot an arrow it had been into Nicholas’ leg. She still felt guilty for what she’d done, for how she could have endangered her people. But that was in the past, and he’d dealt with the dangerous incident by thrashing her with her father’s tawse. Not a memory she wanted to dwell on.
In spite of that unpleasant time, she loved to shoot her bow and arrows. She couldn’t swing one of the big swords, not that she wanted to either. But she’d been trained as a marksman with her bow and she could hunt as well as any man in Urquhart. She missed some of the freedoms she’d had at her home. Here she only did what the lady of the castle was expected to handle. She really should let Mary do more of the duties and then she’d have time for other pursuits. Like what? She had no idea, but she was weary of only dealing with the household.
She marched over to the bow and picked it up. It felt good in her hands. As much as she would like more freedom for practicing her archery, she did not want Mary taking permanent charge of the duties here. Temporary charge, that is, since neither of them would be here much longer if Nicholas had his way.
Nicholas and his men were training in the bailey below her window. They’d be busy for hours yet. She had all of this frustration built up inside her. Shooting a few arrows would be a release . I f she went to the observation platform on the far side of the upper level, she could do this without anyone knowing. There was a spot down in that part of the bailey where few ever went, where she could easily go out and get her arrows back tomorrow.
An hour later, the muscles in her arms burned from pulling on the bow’s hemp string. Her fingers were nearly raw from holding arrows against the bow’s grip. She’d managed to shoot all of her arrows and most of a quiver she’d found in a bedchamber she’d passed on the way here. She needed to get back to her bedchamber before Nicholas came looking for her, as she suspected he might before he sat down to the nooning meal.
But she was reluctant to go back and face more hours in that chamber. One more arrow . She cocked her bow a final time and took aim at the base of the inner wall she’d used as a target.
Suddenly she heard a s quawk and a fluttering sound just before a large bird flew into her path. And then the sound of footsteps coming up behind her further distracted her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Nicholas questioned in anger and moved onto the observation platform near her.
Startled, her heart racing, Maggie lost control of her hold on the arrow. It zipped through the air. To her horror, the large bird screeched in pain.
She glanced down at the same time she saw it fall to the ground. She recognized the wounded bird shot in the wing at the same time Nicholas did. She’d managed to injure Middleham’s hunting hawk. It flopped miserably around on the hard dirt, although it didn’t appear that the arrow had done any real damage. The arrow was stuck midst the spread-out wing.
Nicholas growled in outrage and grabbed her bow, holding it well out of her reach.
Maggie knew she was in serious trouble, but her concern was for the hawk. She would have shoved by him to run down to try and help it, but the burly blacksmith came running from around the corner and managed to get control of the hawk.
“Will he be all right?” Nicholas yelled down, surprising the man, who quickly looked upward.
“Aye. I’ll get the hawker to tend to him, My Lord,” the man called back. He spotted Maggie, the quiver on her back, and frowned in disapproval before carrying the distressed bird away.
Nicholas wasn’t sure he could even speak to Maggie right now because he was so furious. She had not only disobeyed his order to stay in her bed chamber but also she’d dared to use her bow and arrows again. He could have sworn he’d ordered them put in with his weapons. For sure he’d lectured her about not
In spite of that unpleasant time, she loved to shoot her bow and arrows. She couldn’t swing one of the big swords, not that she wanted to either. But she’d been trained as a marksman with her bow and she could hunt as well as any man in Urquhart. She missed some of the freedoms she’d had at her home. Here she only did what the lady of the castle was expected to handle. She really should let Mary do more of the duties and then she’d have time for other pursuits. Like what? She had no idea, but she was weary of only dealing with the household.
She marched over to the bow and picked it up. It felt good in her hands. As much as she would like more freedom for practicing her archery, she did not want Mary taking permanent charge of the duties here. Temporary charge, that is, since neither of them would be here much longer if Nicholas had his way.
Nicholas and his men were training in the bailey below her window. They’d be busy for hours yet. She had all of this frustration built up inside her. Shooting a few arrows would be a release . I f she went to the observation platform on the far side of the upper level, she could do this without anyone knowing. There was a spot down in that part of the bailey where few ever went, where she could easily go out and get her arrows back tomorrow.
An hour later, the muscles in her arms burned from pulling on the bow’s hemp string. Her fingers were nearly raw from holding arrows against the bow’s grip. She’d managed to shoot all of her arrows and most of a quiver she’d found in a bedchamber she’d passed on the way here. She needed to get back to her bedchamber before Nicholas came looking for her, as she suspected he might before he sat down to the nooning meal.
But she was reluctant to go back and face more hours in that chamber. One more arrow . She cocked her bow a final time and took aim at the base of the inner wall she’d used as a target.
Suddenly she heard a s quawk and a fluttering sound just before a large bird flew into her path. And then the sound of footsteps coming up behind her further distracted her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Nicholas questioned in anger and moved onto the observation platform near her.
Startled, her heart racing, Maggie lost control of her hold on the arrow. It zipped through the air. To her horror, the large bird screeched in pain.
She glanced down at the same time she saw it fall to the ground. She recognized the wounded bird shot in the wing at the same time Nicholas did. She’d managed to injure Middleham’s hunting hawk. It flopped miserably around on the hard dirt, although it didn’t appear that the arrow had done any real damage. The arrow was stuck midst the spread-out wing.
Nicholas growled in outrage and grabbed her bow, holding it well out of her reach.
Maggie knew she was in serious trouble, but her concern was for the hawk. She would have shoved by him to run down to try and help it, but the burly blacksmith came running from around the corner and managed to get control of the hawk.
“Will he be all right?” Nicholas yelled down, surprising the man, who quickly looked upward.
“Aye. I’ll get the hawker to tend to him, My Lord,” the man called back. He spotted Maggie, the quiver on her back, and frowned in disapproval before carrying the distressed bird away.
Nicholas wasn’t sure he could even speak to Maggie right now because he was so furious. She had not only disobeyed his order to stay in her bed chamber but also she’d dared to use her bow and arrows again. He could have sworn he’d ordered them put in with his weapons. For sure he’d lectured her about not
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