Elinor used the wall to steady herself as she traveled down the narrow stone stairwell that led to the servants’ quarters. It had been years since she’d ventured here, not since those days when she would sneak away to play with Gavina, Elspeth, Aileen, and the other children who lived within MacCameron Castle’s curtain wall. Before they all grew up and were relegated to performing the roles they now held.
It had been a simpler time, when she could run carefree around the bailey, pretending to slay dragons and capture magical wisps. A time when she did not have to worry about betrothals, peace alliances, or any of the other duties she was now being forced to contend with as princess.
But she would not have to worry about these duties for long. After Merida taught her how to survive the journey to Northumbria, she would have the freedom to study the region’s fascinating artwork and listen to the poets who recited sonnets day in and day out. The freedom to spend her mornings tending to lost or injured animals, and her evenings singing folk songs with all the like-minded new friends she would meet. Her mother and father considered such things trifling—a waste of time for a future queen. But Elinor could not wait.
She descended the final step, then made her way down the dim corridor. The wall sconces were more widely spaced than those found on the upper floors. Only half of them held candles, and the few candles that were there had burned so low that they gave off only a feeble light. Why had they not been replaced? Elinor would have argued that it was more important for the servants to see down here, where they carried supplies for the household on a daily basis, than in the upstairs chambers.
She saw two maids at the end of the corridor. One leaned over and whispered something to the other, and they both giggled. When they spotted Elinor they stood up straight and performed a brief curtsy.
“Princess,” the women mumbled simultaneously.
“Hello, Greta. Agnes,” Elinor said, nodding to them both and injecting extra cheer into her voice. She hated that they thought they had to take on such a somber countenance in her presence. Such was the case with the king and queen. Her parents expected the servants to remain undemonstrative as they went about their duties. When she was with her parents, Elinor found herself treating the servants with the same reserve, too afraid to show any familiarity with the same people she had known and who had taken care of her for much of her life.
“Has either of you come across the new girl who started in the kitchens today?” Elinor asked. “She goes by the name Merida.”
Agnes pointed toward the door. “She is by the wash, Princess.”
Elinor nodded her thanks and smiled again before continuing through the passage that led to the washhouse. She found Merida standing before one of the huge copper washbasins, vigorously scrubbing her hands.
“Are you trying to rub your skin clean off your body?” Elinor asked.
Merida looked back over her shoulder. “If that is what it takes to rid myself of this dreadful fish smell, then I am willing to do it. The fish scales have also caused an itch on my hands and arms, and even behind my ear.”
“Behind your ear? How did you get fish scales there?”
“I don’t know, but it has been itching all day. I think I am allergic to the wet larder.” Merida submerged her arms up to the elbow, then picked up a piece of stained linen and started drying them.
Elinor reached around her and lifted the tin can filled with mutton fat and wood ash. She took a sniff. “Ugh. Are you sure this is not making the smell worse?” She set the tin back on the nearby table. “The one I have is perfumed with lilacs. I shall bring some for you when we get back from our first lesson. Let us get the horses and go into the woods so you can teach me to shoot.”
Merida paused in the middle of drying her hands. She stared at Elinor, her eyes widened, as if she’d just had an epiphany.
“Of course,” Merida whispered. “Of course! We must go into the woods for your lessons!”
“Where are your bow and arrows?”
“We will not need the bow and arrows today, except for protection.”
Elinor frowned. She looked around to make sure they were alone before leaning in close.
“We had a deal,” she said in a fierce whisper.
“I know,” Merida said, keeping her own voice low. “I am to teach you how to survive on your own, and after observing you on our ride to the castle, I have decided our first lesson should be on how to properly gallop on your horse.”
Elinor’s immediate thought was to tell her that a princess did not gallop, but Merida was right. If she was going to make it halfway across the country, she would need to learn how to gallop. The dainty trot she usually took across the glen on Alistair’s back would not cut it.
Elinor held her shoulders back and her head high. “Well, then, teach me to gallop.”
Merida grinned. “I think you will make a most excellent student, Princess.”
It took a promise of three oatcakes and milk sweetened with honey to convince Ewan to keep quiet about her and Merida taking the horses out of the stables. But in no time at all they were on the other side of the curtain wall and trotting toward the woods. They stopped just after clearing the tree line. The air was crisp, with the faint scent of rain imbuing it.
Elinor directed Alistair toward the right.
“Where are you going?” Merida said.
“If we are to gallop, it would be easier to do so across the open glen toward Kincardine.”
“No. No, we should go this way.” She pointed left, in the direction of the village of Clan Innes, where Elinor had first discovered her.
“Trust me. I am more familiar with these lands,” Elinor reminded her. “This is the better route.”
“But—” Merida looked mournfully toward the village. “I guess you are right,” she said, before reluctantly turning her horse and coming to Elinor’s side.
She peered over her shoulder again, and Elinor thought she would put up another argument to head toward Clan Innes. Instead, she sat up straighter on the horse and gave a firm nod.
“Now, the most important lesson in learning to gallop is positioning,” Merida said. “This is the position you should maintain, but only after you have cantered for some time. Remember, you must build up to a gallop.”
Elinor carefully studied Merida’s every movement, leaning forward when she did and lifting her bottom slightly in the air.
“The horse will respond to the pressure you apply to his flank as you ride,” Merida explained. “It is something you both must learn to sense in each other, because every horse is different.”
“How did you learn to do this?” Elinor asked. “I have not heard of many lasses being taught to gallop.”
A smile broke out across Merida’s face. “My dad thinks a young lass should be taught the same skills as a lad.”
“Your dad sounds like a fine gentleman. I think I would like him.”
“I am counting on it,” she said.
Elinor frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” Merida shook her head. “Let me show you how to hold the reins. It too is very important.”
After insisting Elinor demonstrate that she understood the proper way to hold the reins, Merida finally started them out on a slow trot.
“I know how to go slowly,” Elinor said after several minutes. “We are supposed to gallop.”
“In due time,” Merida stressed. She looked over at Elinor and released a sigh. “Fine. We shall canter for sev-eral furlongs, then we can gallop.”
They clopped along at a steady pace for a few minutes, going as fast as Elinor had ever dared ride. The warnings she had been given were more about propriety than safety, but Elinor took care to heed them all the same.
The moment their horses cleared the trees and came upon the glen, Merida yelled, “Yah!” And she and her horse, Angus, shot forward.
Using Merida’s instructions, Elinor sent Alistair into a powerful gallop across the expanse of land. Her heart thudded in time with the horse’s hooves pounding into the ground. The trees that lined either side of the glen looked like green water rushing alongside her. The taste of sweet Scots pine stuck to her tongue as she rode with her mouth open, unable to contain her smile.
It was glorious.
“We should slow down,” Merida called after several minutes of riding.
Elinor shook her head. She leaned forward, bracing her chin against Alistair’s muscled neck. The power in his stride, the wind in her face—this was what freedom felt like.
“Princess Elinor, we must give the horses rest!” Merida called. “You are doing damage to him!”
That made her pause. The last thing she wanted to do was cause her beloved horse harm.
Except she had forgotten how to make him stop. She had been so transfixed by her ride that everything Merida had just taught her escaped her mind.
“How do I stop him?” she called out in a panic.
“Pull slightly on his reins. Not too fast; you do not want to startle him.”
Elinor did as she was told, increasing the pressure as she pulled the leather reins toward her. Alistair slowly reduced his speed until they were once again at a canter. They rode a few minutes more before slowing down to a trot.
“That was amazing,” Elinor said.
“Listen, Princess. I know there is much to enjoy about galloping, but understand that the horse cannot sustain such a swift pace for long stretches, especially a horse who is not used to it. I could see the strain in Alistair, even if you could not.” Merida looked around. “I wonder if there is a creek nearby. Both horses need refreshing.”
“There is,” Elinor said. She pulled the reins. “Follow me.”
They took a slow walk to the creek, making their way carefully over the trees that had fallen during a particularly nasty storm that had passed through a few weeks earlier.
“Be careful,” Elinor warned Merida. “The soldiers do not ride this way, so there is no path.”
“Are we still on MacCameron land?” Merida asked.
“Yes,” Elinor said with a sigh. “We would have to gallop for a full day before we reached the border of MacCameron land.”
Merida’s eyes grew wide.
“’Tis true,” Elinor assured her.
“It is hard to fathom having so much land under one king’s rule. How did the MacCameron convince so many to pledge fealty to him?” Merida asked.
Elinor shrugged. “I wish I knew, but that information has not been shared with me.”
“Maybe it will be once you become queen.”
“Except I will not be queen,” Elinor said. “I will leave this kingdom long before I can rule it.”
Merida tipped her head to the side and stared until Elinor became uncomfortable.
“What?” Elinor asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.
“Many people would do anything for the power to rule your kingdom. It is rather strange to hear you denounce what is your right by birth.”
“You are correct. It is my birthright, yet the land would be under my husband’s rule, not mine.”
“That is true,” Merida replied. “It does not seem fair, does it?”
“Not at all,” Elinor agreed. Not that she would remain here even if she were allowed to rule the land. Her mind was made up. She would be enjoying her first taste of freedom in the Lowlands before the summer solstice arrived.
She and Merida arrived at the creek, and both of their horses immediately began lapping up the cool water. Elinor rubbed Alistair’s neck, whispering an apology for working him so hard, while secretly anticipating the next time they would be able to gallop.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so against the betrothal?” Merida asked. “Isn’t it tradition?”
“Do not take this the wrong way, but you are not a princess. You do not know what it is like to be forced to marry against your will.”
Merida stared at her for a moment before she erupted in laughter.
Elinor’s mouth fell open. She was shocked as she watched the girl gasp for breaths. “Are you quite finished?”
“I am. I am sorry,” Merida said.
“You find my predicament amusing?”
“It is not that, Princess Elinor,” she said. Although the tears of mirth she wiped from the corners of her eyes said otherwise.
“Do not call me Princess Elinor,” she said. “Just Elinor. Being a princess has brought me nothing but grief.”
“Well,” Merida said. “It has brought you lilac-scented soap, has it not?”
“You think that is worth giving up my freedom?”
“Forgive my tasteless joke. That is not what I am saying,” Merida replied. “But after spending the morning in the larder, and the better part of the afternoon trying to wash the smell of fish from my hands, being a princess does not sound so bad. I have gained a new appreciation for the work servants and other laborers do around the castle.”
“So this is the first time you have done such work, then? I am not sure why, but I sensed you were of noble blood from the first moment I met you.”
Merida glanced at her before looking back at the creek. “My father is a guard in his chieftain’s army,” she answered.
“And your mother?”
Merida looked at her again, an odd smile lifting one corner of her mouth. “My mother is rather obsessed with the nobility, if I am being honest. She speaks often about the duties those of royal blood must conduct.”
“You should tell her that there is no need to be jealous or to strive to be a royal. The pressures are…immense.”
As she looked out beyond the creek, at the horizon that stretched into the distance, Elinor wondered what would happen if she just kept going. If she sent Alistair into another powerful gallop and left this life behind.
But what would she find when she arrived in that new land?
She still was not sure what she was running toward; she knew only that she wanted to escape this marriage that was being forced upon her—to do more than what tradition or her future husband commanded she do. She wanted a say in how her life unfolded.
But would she find her purpose once she found her new home, or would she feel as lost and trapped as she did right now? The question pestered her.
Elinor shook her head. She did not have to cater to these worries at present, because she could not leave. Not yet. She would not make it as far as the border of MacCameron land before she starved or froze to death. She could not believe she had not been better prepared.
There was still time—not much, but things had not yet become dire. She had a fortnight before the start of the Highland Games, and the announcement of her betrothal. She would learn all she could from Merida and leave just before the games commenced.
“Should we return to the castle?” Merida asked.
“No. Not yet,” Elinor said. She was not ready to face the suffocating confines of the castle grounds just yet. “It is a gorgeous day. Let us explore more of the forest.”
Merida shot her a curious smile. “I think I know just the place we should go. Follow me.”
Elinor hesitated only for a moment before moving after her. “Only if you let me gallop.”