A Proper Scottish Wife Ch 27

Ailene undergoes the new battlefield based training Frang devised and quickly excels. Teárlag moves into Cameron Keep and her engagement is announced. A little less sex in this chapter, primarily masturbation and simulated sex. Enjoy.

*****

Ailene slept all day after her enforced wakefulness, got up for a few hours to eat and read, then slept all night. When she woke again, she felt fine; refreshed and without the headache which still lingered last night while reading. It was still early, before dawn. Ailene heard Isobel and Frang in the adjoining room making love; their heightened breathing, Frang's low guttural groans, Isobel's softer sighs and pleased whimpers. They really did need to address the thinness of the walls, perhaps some hanging tapestries would make it less obvious. Their sounds of pleasure did make her miss Stuart even more. Her hand slipped down to her own sex. Perhaps the church frowned upon self pleasure as a sin, but what was one supposed to do when bereft of their husband, suffer? Ailene felt it better to pleasure one's self than seek the company of others. Adultery was the far worse sin in her mind.

Ailene climaxed twice as Isobel and Frang mated, suppressing her own moans, until their noises ceased. When she heard them getting up and dressing, she rose herself, reluctantly stopping before a third. Getting dressed, she went down the stairs to the kitchen and helped the cook finish preparations for breakfast, setting a table for the family and putting out plates and cups for the others to dish themselves. Bjarkë came in before the others and hugged Ailene.

"How are you, lassie?" Bjarkë inquired, taking a seat.

"None the worse for wear, uncle," she responded. "No headache or other ill effects. I'm starting to remember bits and pieces of the rest of our fight."

"Then you remember how badly you were thrashing me before you slipped up. I was hoping you'd forget that part." He smiled up at her. "Will you be joining us again then?"

"I think one more day of rest before I start training again."

"Aye, I can see that. You have to come out and watch though; see the changes we've made to our training while you were asleep. I'm quite impressed. I think it's a radical improvement to the way we've trained before. I can hardly wait to tell Thorburn. I think he'll be impressed as well. I've a feeling our previous training methods will only do for the basics of teaching weapons, and as soon as you've learned the concepts of sword play, you'll be shunted into the new training. It's a wonder we never thought of it before."

"Sounds exciting," Ailene said. "I look forward to it."

Frang and Isobel came in, hugging and kissing. You could clearly see Isobel was starting to swell around the middle. Her pregnancy was starting to show.

"I heard Frang is not as concerned about the baby as he was a couple days ago," Ailene said.

Isobel blushed. "You heard us?" She asked.

"It was hard not to. I was thinking perhaps tapestries on the inner walls might alleviate some of the noise," Ailene laughed.

"What does it matter if people know a couple is happy and in love?" Frang asked. "Better that than they scream and shout at each other."

"Hear, hear," Bjarkë laughed. "I've always enjoyed sounds of lust. It helps get one in the mood for love."

"From what I hear from the maids," Isobel said, "You don't need much help getting in the mood for love."

Bjarkë laughed again. "Not much. You wouldn't deny an old man his little pleasures would you?"

"Not so old, from what I've heard," Ailene said.

Bjarkë smiled and shrugged. "I'm available for lessons most evenings. You learn a few things you get to be my age."

Ailene swatted his head and everyone laughed. They all sat down and ate.

After they finished, Isobel, Frang and Bjarkë went out and started training. Ailene went to see what they'd done. There were now objects all over the training grounds; rocks, barrels, fences, tree limbs. The fencing students, after working with one another, would also go against the claymores, even Isobel. Sometimes, it was one on one, other times it was one against many. As soon as someone 'died', the training would stop. Frang or Bjarkë would analyze the fight, show the combatants what they might have done to save their life; dodging behind a fence or barrel, adjust the maneuvering or flow of battle, then the loser was sent off and the winner continued.

Everyone remained to watch the training, even after the loss. They could profit from the mistakes of others. Because Frang and Bjarkë had to review each individual battle to see where one could improve, there was only one primary battle, even if it was one or two against one or more. This was only the second day and already, Ailene could see the others becoming accustomed to the new conditions, more alert to their surroundings, not concentrating solely on their opponent.

Isobel lasted fairly long into the competition, finally falling when going against three opponents who surrounded her. Frang pointed out to Isobel that given how fast she was able to retreat backward, she should have retreated. She could have backed to between two objects which only allowed one or two to reach her at a time, or to a wall, where her back was protected and the three could only approach from the front, preventing her from being surrounded. She nodded in understanding and went to stand with the rest of the dead, watching and learning. When only one winner remained standing, a grizzled veteran of Thorburn's and Bjarkë's former crew who fought cannily and with total understanding of his terrain and circumstances, Ailene realized how valuable real life experience was to staying alive.

Frang and Bjarkë came up to her afterward and asked her what she thought of the training.

"It was amazing. It's like a game, almost."

"A deadly game, aye," Bjarkë said. "But I see your point."

"I can't wait to try it. I only worry about those who die early in the competition, if they will learn quickly enough to improve."

"We've thought of that," Frang said. "It's part of the reason they continue to watch how others fight, and the losers can continue to practice with one another individually, afterward to get better, but they are 'dead' and cannot rejoin the main training. It reinforces to them how easy it is to die and once dead, you're dead. You're gone and buried. No dusting yourself off and going again."

"Well, I intend to join everyone tomorrow," Ailene said. "I want to experience this new training for myself."

"I have only one requirement," Frang said. "You continue to wear your helmet and your head be off limits as a target for the next couple days, at least. I'll announce it before training tomorrow."

"Agreed. I don't want to set myself back any further."

*****

The next day, Ailene was out there with the rest. Frang and Bjarkë announced to all Ailene's head was not to be a target for the days exercise. She was not the first to go out, several others proceeded her. When she finally had her chance, she was paired with an advanced fencing student. She was dead within five minutes, to someone she'd been beating handily before. He'd already learned from his previous experiences on the new course and he retreated from her advance over a log, and when Ailene reached it, she glanced down to step over it and he initiated a lightning attack which caused her to back over the self same log and trip over it.

"It's no fair," Ailene protested. "I've barely started. I want to go again."

"I'm sorry, lady, but dead is dead," Frang informed her. "You can't go again. What should you have done?"

"Well. I didn't have to press my attack over the log. I could have gone around it."

"Good. What else?" Frang asked.

"Made sure my feet never straddled the log; either both feet on top of it or both feet over. Perhaps fend off his attack without retreating."

"Difficult to do against a good opponent. Your best option would have been to go around it. Or abandon the attack, make him come to you, or live to fight another day. If this was a battle, find another opponent besetting your allies, dispatch him, now you have a partner to go against the one who got away, or to help you against the next. In real life, the one you're fighting in this moment is not necessarily the one you have to beat in the next. This is where overall awareness will be helpful. Go stand with the other dead, watch and learn. Your opponent today already learned from his mistakes a couple days ago. He was beaten in much the same way. He had the advantage of doing this before."

Ailene went to stand with the other dead, disappointed she hadn't made a better showing, already realizing how much others had benefitted from the training which she'd missed. She should have beaten her opponent easily, but he continued on and she was dead. When Isobel had her turn, she did well again and she advanced. When she got three opponents again, she retreated to a spot where only two could come at her at once, and killed all three. Next she faced four and one of them ran to cut off her previous retreat, so she backed to a wall where she couldn't be surrounded. She managed against a concerted attack by all four, killing three before she was herself dispatched, killing the third as she herself was killed. After her death, Bjarkë pointed out a barrel she might have kicked in the path of one while she killed the other, leaving only a single opponent. Isobel came to stand by Ailene, breathing hard.

"It gets harder and harder," Isobel panted. "The first day most of us died to the experienced fighters. The second, we did better, already learning from our mistakes. You saw how I fared. As soon as they saw I could handle three, I had to fight four. I think the purpose of the exercise is to kill you. It's only from death or near death you learn. Tomorrow, it will probably be five if I can handle four, then six. I don't think I'm intended to ever win."

"But think of how much better you'll get as you go along," Ailene said. "Could you have imagined defeating three even a week ago? Using the obstacles to his advantage allowed my student to best me, even though he never did before. It allowed him to overcome a superior opponent. After, may I practice with you? I want to move about the training field, get a feel for it, think of how it might all be used to my advantage in a fight."

"Of course. You're right. I haven't really planned much beyond each death. I learn from the mistakes of others of course, but haven't really visualized how it might all be used to my advantage."

When everyone else was finished, Isobel and Ailene moved about the training ground, considering the possibilities of every obstacle.

"These smaller rocks and sticks can be thrown at someone to distract them," Isobel said.

"Especially if they're thrown at a head," Ailene agreed. "And this could be kicked into someone's path, like that barrel Bjarkë told you about."

"This one can be tipped by hand," Isobel said.

"I agree. And this fence is low enough you could dive over it, tuck and roll, like a somersault when we were children, though I wouldn't recommend it in your current condition," Ailene said.

"I never really somersaulted as a child," Isobel said.

"I can show you," Ailene said. "Maybe I did because I had brothers. They were always wrestling and tumbling and I was too, until I reached about eight, and mother started bringing me into the house to learn to sew," Ailene mused. "Probably why you're the better seamstress. If mother knew how I must learn to fight now and how poorly I sew, she might have let me play with my brothers more."

Isobel laughed.

"This corner might be beneficial for keeping opponents in front of you and off your back," Ailene said.

"Yes, and it looks like no more than two or three can fight you at the same time," Isobel answered.

"This small ditch looks as if it might cause you or your opponent to take a tumble."

"Hopefully, your foe," Ailene answered.

They went around the entire place until they'd identified everything they could which might help or harm in a fight.

"We need to begin doing this everywhere," Isobel said. "In the house, on the road, all the places we might find ourselves in a fight, so we're prepared, no matter where we are."

"You're right. Full awareness of our surroundings at all times," Ailene agreed. "Starting today."

******

After the first day, Ailene was never the first one to fall. She might not be the last one standing, but she took a toll on all who tried to beat her. Bjarkë and Frang frequently had to send six or seven against her to cause her death, and once she lasted up to ten opponents. Isobel saw Ailene leap over the fence, tumble and roll, spit someone as she rose to her feet, throwing dirt at the others. She was a dervish, seemed to know every obstacle by heart, never tumbled or fell. Those she faced were often beaned by a thrown rock or branch to the point all must wear a helmet.

After testing her singly, they started throwing others into the mix. If she was able to retreat to a certain spot, she would have one ally, to another, a second. But one other person was especially effective; Isobel. If they were partnered, they didn't just add to one another's talents, they multiplied. They seemed to read each other's minds, understanding exactly what the other would do and how they could help the other accomplish it. Bjarkë sent twenty-six men against them before they were both killed.

"I've never seen the like," Bjarkë grumbled. "It's like I've not trained these men at all. How can two wee lasses be killing my men over and over."

"How the hell should I know. My own students don't fare any better," Frang said. "They work like magic together. They don't work like a team, they work like two people with a single mind."

Cyrus had been watching with them. He coughed and they both looked at him.

"They're not just fighting for their lives," Cyrus said. "They're fighting to die, not be captured. If they're taken, the least they can expect is to be raped. From what you said about Màiri and what happened to her, rape would be the least of their worries. They would rather die than be captured. If you know you're going to die anyway, dying on a battlefield is the preferable alternative. There is no surrender. They do seem to be of a single mind, but they've both thought of it, haven't they; probably talked about it. They know what's at stake. I think the lasses have memorized the battlefield. I think they do it everywhere they go. I've seen them in the barn and shed, pointing out things to one another. I suspect they've done the same in the house. There's probably nowhere they've gone which they haven't thought about using to their advantage."

"Aye. I may have seen the same thing in the kitchen," Frang said, "talking and whispering, even laughing, pointing at the pots and pans, the fire. I couldn't figure out what they were doing, but I think you're right. They were looking at it like a battleground and how they'd fight on it."

"I think they've both mastered the sword," Cyrus said. "The only thing you've yet to teach them is the axe."

"It's hard," Bjarkë said. "Even a dulled blade can knock the stuffing out of you."

"Well, from what I've heard, Blackthorne doesn't use an axe, but some of his soldiers do," Cyrus said, "so you need to teach them."

"What weapon does Blackthorne use?" Frang asked. "I've never heard."

"I don't know," Cyrus answered. "I heard he had some training on the continent as a young man, France or Italy, some time after your Daddy whipped him, but I've never heard what, nor that he ever practices with his men. As far as I know, the only weapon he wields is money, but he's an expert with that."

"I guess we start with the axes tomorrow, Bjarkë."

"Aye, though Thorburn is the best one to train against. The axe is his weapon."

"Maybe after market day in a couple days, Thorburn can spend some time with them," Frang said. "I'd like him to see what we've done with our training and how well the women have progressed."

"We'd best get them practiced up before."

******

Meghan came to Ailene and Isobel after the training, gushing with praise.

"My ladies, do you know how many men you defeated today?"

"I wasn't keeping count," Ailene said. "Did you, Isobel."

"No. All I know is it was a lot. I'm exhausted."

"It took twenty-six men to kill you both," Meghan enthused, "All men, known warriors, you killed twenty-five. You must be the greatest warriors of all time, like the Amazons of the Greeks or Viking Valkyries."

"We're not that good," Ailene said. "I still can't beat Frang half the time in normal bouts. This is different. The battlefield gives us a chance against superior enemies. I learned in the first battle I fought in this place. An inferior opponent beat me because he understood the ground better. Not anymore. Isobel and I have learned to use the battlefield to our advantage. Any battlefield. Every time we go someplace different, we're thinking of how we can turn it to our advantage. Isobel and I think alike. We have to. We know what waits for us if we're taken; if Blackthorne gets his hands on us. Everything must be turned to our advantage if we're to survive. I don't want to become Màiri. Isobel is not only protecting herself, but her child. It's all we can do."

"You can deny it all you want," Meghan said, "but no other two people have beaten twenty-five warriors. I think you're heroines, someone all women can aspire to be."

Isobel grinned at Ailene. "Twenty-five is a rather large number."

Ailene hugged Isobel. "It is a lot isn't it. I wonder what they'll pull on us tomorrow? Three against one hundred?"

"There isn't a full hundred men here," Meghan said doubtfully.

"I'm joking," Ailene said. "Would you like to learn to fight like we do?"

"Can I?" Meghan asked. "Are you sure it wouldn't interfere with my duties?"

"Mmm, it might," admitted Isobel, "but I happen to know the Laird quite well and he believes women should be able to defend themselves."

"Really? Do you think I can?" Meghan pleaded.

"We did, didn't we," Ailene said. "But if you want to train, you must work hard, you will work harder than you ever did as a maid. You must get stronger and faster and practice every day. We'll help you if you dedicate yourself to become better."

"I will," Meghan said. "I promise."

Ailene paused. "How old are you, Meghan?"

"Twenty-four."

"Three years older than I am. Why haven't you married before now? Do you like men?"

"I like them fine, though never one my parents or I felt was worth marrying."

"So, it's mostly a question of finding the right person. I have a question for you Meghan."

"What is it?"

"What do you think of Bjarkë as a man?"

"The weapons master? He's nice. He teases me sometimes, but it's all in fun."

"What if I told you he was fond of you and might be interested in you as a woman, possibly to wed?" Ailene asked.

"He's interested in me?"

"Yes. His exact words were he found you to be attractive, smart, caring and brave. He doesn't want to approach you while we're still fighting Blackthorne because family members become targets, as you already know. Blackthorne threatened your family. But I think he'd be ready to settle down if it were ended."

"He's a little old for me, isn't he?"

"That's for you to decide," Ailene said, "not me, nor Isobel nor anyone else. You might wish to speak to some of the other women. I understand some have shared his bed and found him to their liking. He may not be as old as his age would make you think. He's nineteen years older than Thorburn, fifty-two or three, I think. Thorburn's father, Jamison Cameron, had to fight him in order to win the hand of his sister."

"My family is staying with some of his, aren't they?" Meghan asked.