Page 47 of Highland Spy

“I did?” Her father shook his head, not seeming to remember what happened just a few minutes ago. “Oh, aye,” he mumbled, scratching his head.

Caleb was light on his feet and quick. Bridget was sure he’d have no problem with the broad jump, and he didn’t. She held her breath as Caleb went sailing through the air with his arms waving wildly at his sides. Then he landed further than any of the other contestants, causing the crowd to cheer.

After measuring the distance, the herald called out once more. “Caleb MacKeefe jumped the furthest, and is therefore the winner of this round.”

“Guid,” said Bridget, letting out the breath she’d been holding.

“The archery competition will take place right after a short break,” called out the announcer. The crowd dispersed. Bakers with trays loaded down with fresh bread and alewives carrying four tankards in each hand weaved through the crowds selling their wares.

“Faither, ye wait here. I want to go congratulate Caleb,” said Bridget, ducking under the fence and running to Caleb, giving him a big hug. “I kent ye could do it,” she beamed with pride. “Ye were wonderful at the broad jump.”

“Thank ye,” said Caleb, brushing the dirt off his hands. “But archery is next, and I havena shot a bow and arrow in a long time now. I need to get over to the practice yard quickly because I’d like to have a few practice shots first.”

“I’ll come with ye,” she said anxiously. “I dinna want to miss anythin’ because this is all goin’ in the Highland Chronicles. Let me just go get my faither.”

Caleb looked at her in concern. “Did ye leave Slink with yer da?” he asked. “I dinna see him.”

Bridget’s eyes opened wide and her palm slapped over her mouth.

“Bridget? Please tell me ye are watchin’ Slink.”

“Och, Caleb, I’m so sorry. I put him on the fence and was watchin’ ye and forgot all about him.”

“Bid the devil, I dinna have time to find him, Bridget!” Caleb’s eyes darkened. “He’ll be trampled in the crowd.”

“Nay, he’ll be fine. I’ll find him and bring him to the practice yard anon. Dinna worry about a thing.”

“Ye’d better find him. But dinna bring him with ye. Go back to my chamber and leave him there instead.” Caleb shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Och, lass, I dinna ken if I can focus on the contest because I am so worried about Slink.”

“Dinna worry. I told ye, I’ll find him. Now go,” she told him, giving him a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Bridget, be careful,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “I wouldna want to see ye hurt.”

“I dinna think Slink will bite me, do ye?”

“No’ that.” His eyes darted back and forth and he walked closer and leaned forward to whisper to her. “Someone is tryin’ to sabotage the competition. I told the king I’d keep an open eye and try to find out who it is.”

“Really? That’s awful,” she said, shocked to hear that someone would do such a thing.

“I think it’s one of the lairds who made it to the finals, but I canna prove it. All I ken is that too many of the competitors are havin’ accidents that normally dinna happen.”

“Then ye need to be careful, too, Caleb. Mayhap it’s too dangerous to be competin’ in Storm’s place.”

“Nay, I’m no’ worried about that,” he said. “However, these next few events have me more than concerned. I might be able to pull off the archery, but there is no way I’ll be able to do well in the hammer throw. And I dinna ken what is involved in the rest of the contest, but I have a feelin’ it isna guid.”

“I have faith in ye, Caleb, now stop worryin’. I’ll find Slink and meet ye at the archery event. Just keep yer head in the game and yer eyes on the target, and ye’ll have no problems at all,” she said with a wink.

As she walked away, Caleb wished he could be as confident as Bridget that he’d do well in this competition. Because now he not only had to keep up, but he had promised the king he’d spy on the others and flush out the saboteur. The worst part was that he wasn’t sure at all that he wanted to be the king’s Highland Spy.

Chapter 17

“There ye are, Slink,” said Bridget. She’d walked back to where she’d left her father, to find him holding the Highland Chronicles up to the pine marten like the animal was a fly and he was ready to swat it. Slink sat on the top of one of the long, wooden benches that were used for the spectators during the competition. There weren’t many people here now, since they’d all headed over to the archery field already.

“Stay away or I’ll flatten ye like smashed dung rolled over by a wagon,” warned her father.

“Da! Nay,” she said, pushing in front of him and scooping the pine marten into her arms. Slink, obviously frightened, turned and crawled up to her shoulder, its retractable claws digging into her thick, woolen plaid to help the animal keep its balance. It looked over at her father and showed its sharp teeth.

“None of that, Slink,” she said, reaching up with one hand to touch the pine marten. “I think it’s time for a nap and I’m takin’ ye back to yer room.”