Chapter 1

Peigi cursed under her breath as the needle pricked her finger. It was not ladylike by any means, but she thought that she would be forgiven since she had spent her entire life among a group of men whose kindest words were a good morning. Surely, one expletive every now and then would not condemn her to an afterlife in hell.

One stitch to go and the bust of her dress would be ready to accommodate everything that she would need to take with her once she would leave, the pockets that she had just finish sewing there being big enough to carry several bags of coins.

There were goosebumps on her skin. The cold draft came through the cracks in the walls, washing over her bare skin, and Peigi could not wait to put her dress back on, desperate for some warmth. Once she was dressed, she stood up and made her way out of her chambers.

Her father would be furious with her if the supper for him and his men would not be ready soon, and Peigi didn’t want to have to face his wrath once again. She had had enough of it in her one-and-twenty years in the world, and she had recently decided that she would not tolerate any of it anymore.

That was why she was leaving, after all. A life among violent criminals was no life at all, especially when everyone treated her like their personal servant.

As Peigi walked to the kitchen, she saw one of her father’s men, Asgall, his clothes askew and dripping wet, leaving puddles behind him as he walked down the hallway. It could only mean one thing, Peigi thought; he had just returned from the cave where her father kept all the stolen gold and goods that he acquired from his incessant pillaging, which also meant that the waters had subsided enough for her to be able to reach it that night.

It was time for her to leave, but first, she had to make supper.

Peigi busied herself with the food, chopping vegetables in silence, when her father barged into the room, accompanied by a small group of his men. They were looking for alcohol, Peigi knew, but she let them search for it instead of bringing it to them; one last act of defiance while she still called the keep her home.

“Where’s the wine, lass?”

Her father’s thunderous voice echoed in the room, but Peigi paid him no mind. She simply kept chopping the vegetables with the intensity of someone trying to pull a thread through a needle.

Then, she heard her father’s steps behind her, heavy and loud enough to make her feel trapped, even though he was nowhere near her yet.

“I said, where is the wine?” her father repeated. “Black Stags are celebrating tonight! We’ll have all the wine in the keep, and then we’ll go out, and we’ll steal some more!”

Peigi knew all about her father’s celebrations, which came after every particularly successful fight or pillage. It was more reason to drink than anything else, but that day her father and his brigands had returned in such high spirits that it could only mean one thing; they had gotten more gold and goods that they knew what to do with, and they had raped every woman who had had the misfortune to be near them.

The thought made Peigi sick to her stomach, and her hand began to tremble where it was holding the knife. For a moment, she had half a mind to kill her father right then and there, to stab the blade through his heart and leave his men without their ‘Sire.’

Peigi had always hated that honorific. She never understood why he wouldn’t allow them to simply call him Murdo.

Killing her father would only end up getting her killed, too, though, and Peigi had no intention to die at the hands of such vile men. So, instead of jamming her knife through her father’s chest, she pointed at the corner of the room, where they kept the wine.

“Get it, then.”

It wasn’t her father who had spoken, but rather one of his men, a short, scrawny boy by the name of Tomag. Peigi always remembered him being nice to her when they were younger when they spent plenty of time together as he was only a few years younger than her, but ever since the brigands had welcomed him in their ranks, he had become one of them. Now, Tomag was nothing more than another cruel, hateful little man, whose only share of glory came from stealing and killing innocents.

“Why don’t ye get it yerself?” Peigi asked, looking over her shoulder at Tomag. “Ye still have yer hands, dinnae ye?”

It was the wrong thing to say, but Peigi was used to saying the wrong thing. Suddenly, there was a hand tangled in her hair, and her father was shoving her aside. Much to the amusement of his men, who laughed at her, Peigi wailed in pain when her father all but ripped her hair off its roots, and so she bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, just so that she could bite back her scream. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of hearing it.

For a few seconds, Peigi did nothing but stand there, her gaze pinned on her father as the air came out in puffs through her nose. She clutched the knife tightly in her hand, fingers itching to trace her own father’s blood, before she eventually dropped it on the floor and did as she was told, bringing the men the alcohol and even pouring it into cups for them.

It was not time for being brave, not yet.

By the time that Peigi had finished cooking the food for the men, they were all drunker than they could handle. Peigi watched them as they feasted on roasted meat and even more wine, greedily eating and gulping down the alcohol that seemed to flow endlessly out of the pitchers. The sight brought a small smile to her face, not because she was enjoying the show, but because she knew that soon, her father and his men would be fast asleep, unaware of everything that was happening around them.

Peigi’s predictions had been correct. It took a little over an hour for the first men to begin collapsing over the tables and chairs, all of them too drunk to stay awake even a moment longer, and by the time that the plates were empty of any food, all men were snoring in their deep sleep, her father included.

If she had put a little something in their wine to help them sleep, well . . . then that was just a part of her plan.

Peigi quickly fled the room, tiptoeing around the brigands, just in case one of them was a lighter sleeper than the rest. Her heart thumped in her chest so loudly that it was a miracle none of the men heard it, and Peigi had to fight back nausea that came with trying to flee and with the thought that, were she to be caught, she would be severely punished. She was certain that a lashing would be the lightest punishment she could possibly get if her father found out that she was leaving.

Her father didn’t find out, though; no one did. Peigi was soon out of the keep, and though she had no idea where she would go, she had never felt so free, so happy before. The moment she stepped out of the building, it was as though a weight lifted off her shoulders, and she had never felt the same lightness in her feet as she did then.

Peigi all but skipped her way to the shore. It was dark that night, the clouds obscuring the moon and the stars, leaving the sky looking like nothing more than a black void. She only had a lamp to light her way, but she didn’t need much more. She knew Barns Ness like the back of her hand, after spending her entire life there, and especially after exploring the land as a child.

The sea was calm, calmer than it had been for days, and the tide had receded enough for her to be able to reach the cave where her father kept his treasure without a problem. The little boat that his men used was there, sitting by the shore, and Peigi pushed it into the sea, before jumping onto it and rowing her way to the secret cave.

She would be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that she was scared. The waters were just as dark as the sky, uninviting and treacherous, and Peigi kept her eyes peeled for any rocks that could crush her boat to pieces.

Her arms began to tire soon, but she kept rowing regardless. While she was used to lifting heavy weights, what with her father forcing her to help him and his men and making her clean the entire keep for him, Peigi had not rowed in a long time. The last time her father had asked her to help transport goods to the cave, the strain on her arms was almost unbearable. She pushed through the shaking, though, forcing herself to row even harder, and soon, she was at the mouth of the cave.

The rocks there were sharp, and as Peigi pulled the boat onto solid land, the stones scraped her legs and made her wince in pain. She paid her injuries no mind because right in front of her was a pile of treasure, all ready to be taken.

It seemed to her like her father had stolen from the entire area of East Lothian, and he had taken anything from gold to barley and horse saddles. There were even a few clothes there, as well as jewelry that would never see the light of day again unless his father’s men suddenly grew a liking for necklaces.

There was one that caught her eye, a gold necklace with a large pink pearl at its center. Her father often praised it as his finest possession. It would certainly be a shame for it to stay there, hidden for years, Peigi thought, and so she grabbed it along with three bags of coins, stuffing them all in the pockets she had sewn that afternoon in the bust of her dress.

The strange weight on her chest made her look down at herself, and she soon noticed that she seemed rather indecent, her breasts bulging over her dress, and she cursed under her breath once more.

It would be rather unfortunate if she would have to fight off a man who would take her appearance as an invitation, but after living with a group of brigands her entire life, she knew how to fight, and she knew how to win.

Peigi looked around the cave some more, scouring her father’s treasure for anything else that could be useful, and she found an old, dusty jacket that was too big for her but was thick enough to keep her warm, and it could cover up her unforeseen bust problem.

Once she had the jacket on, she realized that she would have to put up with the smell of mildew and old saltwater until she could find something else to wear, and the stench forced her to scrunch up her nose in disgust. Still, it was better than nothing, and Peigi wrapped the jacket tighter around herself before she hopped right back on the boat and made her way across the narrow sea.

It was time to go. She looked at the keep, though it could hardly be called that, with its dilapidated walls and broken glass on the top windows, the ones that always let in the cold breeze and left Peigi freezing in the middle of the night.

She was not going to miss her home. She was not going to miss her father or his men, and she certainly was not going to miss the way that they treated her, as though she was nothing more than a maid to them.

Peigi thought back to when she was a little girl. She wondered if things would have been different if her mother hadn’t passed shortly after her birth, if she would perhaps be happier, or if even her father would be a different man, but thinking about such things did her no good.

There had been a time when she adored her father, like all children do, a time when she didn’t know, or rather didn’t understand, what kind of man he was. There had been a time when she had thought he would raise her to be his heir, train her like he had trained Tomag when he was a child, but her father had never shown that much interest in her.

To him, she was only a girl.

Peigi kicked the boat a few times for good measure until her foot went through the rotten wood, leaving a large hole on the side, one last act of defiance. Then, she turned around and began to walk away from the keep, towards the first direction her feet would take her.

It didn’t matter where she was going, as long as it was far away from Barns Ness. It didn’t matter that she had no horse, or even any food, save for some cheese and bannocks that would last her for a day or two.

All that mattered was that she was finally on her way to a new life. She had no delusions; perhaps it would not be an easier life since up until then, she had never had to worry about food or board, her father providing both for her despite his other shortcomings. Now, she had no idea if she would even have a roof over her head soon, and she was certain that there would be hardships along the way, but no matter what she would go through, at least she wouldn’t be around those vile, cruel criminals that her father called his brothers.

Soon, the lamp that Peigi was carrying died out, and she was left plunged in darkness. She had already managed to put a good distance between her and the keep, though, so she didn’t worry too much when she found a small opening in the earth, where some roots were growing in thin soil, and decided to rest.

The next morning would surely bring travelers with it, people who could give her a ride to the nearest town or village, she thought, and she had the money to reach Dunbar in the following few days; Dunbar, which was her final destination, where she could find some work and be safe from her father.

Peigi closed her eyes with that thought in mind, praying to the Lord that she would be safe that night in the wilderness. She clutched the sghian dubh, the small blade that she had been given as a young girl by one of her father’s kinder men –Conall, rest his soul –tightly in her hand, just in case her prayers wouldn’t work.

Chapter 2

Peigi always detested life on the road.  It was better than staying home, though, where the fire she would light in her chambers every night did nothing to keep her warm, and the brigands’ insults and rage were lurking behind every corner.

Now, she was in the back of a wagon, where some merchants had found some space for her. She had been traveling for days, and her fatigue, paired with paranoia eating her from the inside every time she thought about her father, made her look like a ghost, pale and frail, with large, dark circles under her eyes.

She hadn’t even managed to sleep after that first night, and she must have been on the road for about a week, if she had kept track of time correctly. The merchants had taken pity on her, and since they, too, were going to Dunbar Castle, they were more than happy to accept a few coins in exchange for a spot in their wagon.

When they reached the castle, Peigi was surprised to see that it looked nothing like what she had imagined. She knew that the Dunbar clan was the one who fell victim to her father’s ransacking the most, but precisely because of that, she thought that they would be swimming in riches and treasures. When she saw the place, though, she realized that her father had driven the Dunbar clan to ruin.

What must have once been a magnificent castle was now in disarray. There were parts of its walls where the stones had fallen, leaving a gap where they used to be, and weeds were taking over the ground, as though no one was bothering to clean them up.

The people, too, looked as though it had been a while since they had last seen a good day. They all seemed healthy enough, with the plump, rosy cheeks and the bright eyes that came with having enough food to eat, but their clothes were patched up in several places, while others wore torn garments.

Perhaps they preferred to feed themselves, Peigi thought. Maybe they didn’t have enough money and goods to feed and dress themselves, all because of her father’s greed and his desire to take what was not his.

That was one of the reasons why Peigi had wanted to go to Dunbar in the first place. She knew that it was the only place around there with enough guards to make her feel safe, but she also wanted to give back a part of what rightfully belonged to them. She wanted to help them, to repay them in some small way for what her father had done.

Peigi thanked the merchants, leaving them to their business before hopping off their wagon and making her way to the two guards that stood by the entrance to the castle.

The moment she walked up to them, Peigi knew that she was not welcome.

One of the guards, the shorter one with a gap-toothed grin and a pair of meaty, hairy hands gripping his weapon hard enough to make the wood creak, appraised her from head to toe. Immediately, he decided she was not going anywhere near that castle if the look of disgust on his face was anything to go by. Still, Peigi had to at least try and get inside the walls.

“Good day—”

“Ye cannae go in,” the other guard said, a towering man with thin, blonde hair and a patchy beard, without even hearing what she had to say first. “We dinnae allow beggars in.”

Peigi would have taken offense at that, had the days she had spent on the road not left her covered in filth and reeking worse than a barn. She didn’t think she looked like a beggar, not even at her worst.

“I’m no beggar,” she said. “I’m looking for work, I have traveled for days to get here. Please, I beg of ye . . . there must be some work that needs to be done in the castle.”

The two guards glanced at each other, and then back at Peigi. Their matching smiles filled her with hope for a moment, until the shorter one spoke.

“Aye . . . I’ll hire ye to clean my chamber pot.”

“With those things, she’ll topple right over!” the other man said, as he pointed at her.

Peigi followed the man’s eye line and looked down to where he was pointing; her breasts. Red with embarrassment and fury, Peigi grabbed her jacket and wrapped it tightly around herself, covering her bosom.

The two men laughed, much to Peigi’s annoyance. Her mouth twisted in a frown, ugly and scornful, but she was not about to give up so easily.

“Any work in the castle, I’ll do it,” she said. “If ye need a cook, I can cook . . . I can cook and clean, I can sew, I can even work with the horses. I’ve tamed all of my father’s horses, I can do it, and I can do it weel. Please . . . please, at least ask if the Laird needs one more pair of hands.”

“We willnae bother the Laird for a beggar,” the taller of the two guards spat, before taking a step towards Peigi and slamming his boot down on the ground, startling her. “Away wi’ ye! We dinnae need another mouth to feed! Leave!”

Peigi considered offering to pay them for a moment. No man in the world would refuse some coins, but she couldn’t know for certain that the two guards wouldn’t become greedy after knowing that she had gold on her. Perhaps they would try and take it all from her, and there would be no one to stop them from doing so. Peigi had to put her safety first, so she retreated, shuffling her feet on the ground as she walked away.

One defeat didn’t mean that she was going to give up, though. Just because those guards wouldn’t let her in, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t sneak into the castle. The same merchants who had brought her there were still by the entrance, chatting away to another clansman, and when everyone was distracted, Peigi finally had her chance.

There were empty barrels in one of the carts that the merchants had brought with them. Peigi knew, as she had seen them carry three of the barrels with ease when they rolled off the wagon after hitting a bump on the road.

She quickly opened the lid on the one closest to her and snuck inside as gingerly as she could. Though she made plenty of noise, no one heard her over the buzz of the locals and the merchants talking and laughing with each other, and Peigi smiled to herself, satisfied, once she settled inside the barrel.

The barrel was just the right size for her to fit inside, though it was terribly cramped, and she knew that she couldn’t stay there for long. She just hoped that the merchants wouldn’t stay and chat for much longer, as her legs had already begun to cramp up.

Peigi didn’t have to wait long. Soon, she felt the cart move, and though she didn’t risk cracking the lid open and glancing outside, she knew that they were going inside the castle grounds. Now, all she had to do was sneak back out once the clansmen put the barrels away, and then pretend that she already had permission to be there.

Deception seemed to come awfully easy to her, Peigi thought. It seemed to be something that she had inherited from her father, but unlike her father, Peigi only used it when she had no other choice. She didn’t like deceiving people or lying to them; she, too, had been fooled several times by her father and his men, and she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such cruelty. When it came down to choosing between saving her life or telling the truth, though, then Peigi would choose the former every time.

Inside the castle grounds, there was more noise than she could have imagined. She could hear the voices of tens of different men, some laughing and talking with each other, others yelling commands to those who worked for them. There were women’s voices too, Peigi realized, and suddenly, she was filled with excitement.

She had never had a chance to have a friend, another woman in whom she could confide. The brigands in her father’s service had all been men, naturally. The only women with whom Peigi had had any contact were the women that the brigands brought for a night of fun, gone by the morning light, while the servants who took care of the keep were either older or refused to talk to her, just because she was her father’s daughter.

If she were lucky, she would not only be safe, with a job and a roof over her head, but she would finally make some friends, she would finally get to know some women who were just like her.

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she were not lucky.

The cart soon stopped, and Peigi had to brace herself as the barrel threatened to topple over. Thankfully, she remained upright, and then she settled back into her previous position, trying to get as comfortable as she could.

It would be a long while until she would be able to get out of the barrel. Surely, the courtyard would not be empty until late at night, and even then, she would have to be careful. She didn’t want any guards to see her coming out of the barrel, especially not the same guards who had refused to allow her to enter the grounds. She was certain that if anyone found out that she had snuck into the castle, she would be executed, and all her troubles would be in vain.

Soon, she heard voices once again, this time louder, as though the men were standing around the cart. Peigi tried to be quiet and even forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, with as little noise as possible, even though she doubted that anyone could hear her breathe, not when they were conversing so loudly among themselves.

Peigi could catch phrases here and there, and she listened to the men intently. They were talking about their trade, it seemed, about how much they would be charging for their goods. She heard two of them discuss the Dunbar clan’s finances, and how much they each thought they could get away with overcharging when the financial state of the clan was so dire.

The conversation made her frown, and she had half a mind to jump out of the barrel to reprimand the merchants, consequences be damned. Perhaps if she would expose them to the Laird, then he would be kind enough to let her live.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though; she couldn’t bring herself to risk her life or, even worse, her freedom, now that she had had a taste of what it meant to be truly free.

Just as she was trying to convince herself that the best plan of action was taking no action at all, Peigi heard a sudden interruption in the conversations of the merchants and the clansmen, which was then followed by half a dozen ‘m’lord’s. Her breath caught as Laird Dunbar approached the cart. What was he even doing there, among the merchants, hay, and dung? Surely he had better things to do?

It didn’t matter what he was doing there though. Peigi was more concerned about the fact that he had come there in the first place. Surely, a Laird would not be there unless there was something wrong.

Could he possibly have found out that she was hiding in the barrel? It could not be. If anyone had seen her, it would be a clansman, not the Laird himself, she thought.

“Did ye come for the inspection, m’lord?” Peigi heard one of the merchants ask, and his words made her heart sink to her stomach. She didn’t know that inspections were a common occurrence in castles, and suddenly, she felt incredibly stupid, cursing herself under her breath.

She should have been more careful; she should have found a less risky way to sneak inside the grounds, one that would not bring her face to face with the Laird of the clan himself.

“Aye,” Laird Dunbar said. Peigi could hear his footsteps, loud and heavy, as he circled the cart, sometimes coming closer and sometimes walking away from her. She could only hope that he would skip the cart that she was in since there were a lot of other carts to inspect.

“What have ye brought with ye?” the Laird continued. “Did ye bring everything that we asked for?”

“Aye, m’lord,” a merchant assured him. “We brought ye grains and wine, and we brought some thread for cloth too, as ye asked.”

“Did ye find any trouble on the way here?” the Laird asked. “Those darned Black Stags, did they get to ye? Did they steal from ye?”

Peigi had known that the Dunbar clan was her father’s biggest target, but the ferocity in the Laird’s voice told her that it was worse than she thought. He sounded like a man who had gone mad with hatred, as though he could hardly contain his rage against the thieves, and Peigi couldn’t blame him. She could only feel sorry for him, for everything that her father had done to him and his people.

“No, no, m’lord. There was no trouble at all this time,” another merchant said. “We thought it was odd, at first, but we have been fighting back more . . . the weapons ye gave us have saved our lives and our goods many times. Perhaps the Black Stags have seen that we are stronger now. They ken that we can defeat them.”

Peigi knew for certain that that was not the case. Her father and his men were not afraid of anyone, especially not some merchants, and she also knew that the merchants, no matter how well-armed they were, were no match for the brigands. Once they were sober once more and they had spent and eaten everything they had pillaged, then they would return, and they would do so with a vengeance.

“We cannae defeat them,” the Laird said, as though he could read Peigi’s mind. He was a smart man, she thought, if he knew that there was no beating her father. “Not yet, not like this; but one day we will . . . I will make sure of that.”

There was a short silence among the men, none of them willing to point out that Black Stags had beaten them every single time they had tried to fight them, but it was quickly over after the Laird spoke again.

“Show me what ye brought. Make sure to open everything, I dinnae want any Black Stags making their way inside castle grounds, ye hear?”

There was a chorus of agreement from the other men, but Peigi could hardly hear it over the sound of her thundering heartbeat. She thought her heart would jump out of her chest; if she didn’t faint first, that is. Her ears buzzed loud enough to cover any other sound, and she could feel her fingertips go numb as she waited for the inevitable.

The lid of her barrel opened with a whoosh, but Peigi didn’t see the sudden flood of light before her eyes fell closed, plunging her in darkness.

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