“There’s an old armory up in the south tower. There are all sorts of weapons there, including crossbows and swords. Crocker keeps them up. It’s his hobby.”
“Would you like to learn to shoot a crossbow?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes going to that white wig and floaty gown. “I think Sinjun is all right. Joan sounds like a cocker spaniel.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
MacDuff arrived the following afternoon to find Sinjun and Philip in the apple orchard with crossbows two hundred years old and in perfect condition. Crocker was sitting on a fence whittling new arrows, his mongrel George II at his feet.
At the sight of the huge MacDuff, George II bounded up and barked maniacally.
“George, old boy, down!”
For a dog named after a king, he was singularly obedient. He sank back down at his master’s feet and rested his head on his paws, his tail wagging as frantically as a flag in a strong wind.
Sinjun heard the dog bark but she didn’t turn around. “Now, Philip, that’s excellent form. That’s right, right under your nose and keep your left arm perfectly straight and still. Yes, that’s it.”
The target was a straw-stuffed scarecrow that Sinjun had borrowed from the wheat field. It was only twenty paces distant.
“Now, very easy . . . that’s it, easy.”
He released the arrow and it sped toward the scarecrow, striking it squarely in the groin.
MacDuff yowled in feigned pain.
“Good shot,” Sinjun said, and turned to face her cousin-in-law. “MacDuff! Goodness, it’s about time you came back to visit. Your timing is quite perfect. Do you shoot?”
“Oh no, Sinjun, not me. I’ve never had to. I’m far too big and too ugly for any man or any three men to try to take me on.” He held up a meaty fist and shook it at her. “This is all the protection I need, at least bullies think so.”
“You’re right,” Sinjun said. “Did you see Philip’s shot?”
“I certainly did. Where did you learn, Philip?”
“Sinjun,” the boy said. “She’s quite good. Show him, Sinjun.”
She did, deftly targeting the scarecrow and releasing the arrow quickly, with no fuss. It struck the scarecrow right through the neck, the arrow coming out six inches through the back.
“My God,” MacDuff said. “That was excellent. Your brothers taught you?”
“Oh yes, but they have no idea that I can now outshoot them. Perhaps they do, but it would never occur to them to admit it.”
“You’re wise not to tell them,” MacDuff advised. “They would be crushed, their male pride stomped underground.”
“Men,” Sinjun said. “What does it matter?”
“I don’t know, but it does.”
“Philip, why don’t you tell Aunt Arleth that MacDuff is here. You will stay some time with us?”
“A couple of days only. I’m on my way to Edinburgh and just wanted to see if there was anything you needed.”
Yes, I need my husband, she wanted to say, but said instead, “You were staying here in the neighborhood?”
“I have friends, the Ashcrofts, who live near Kinross.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here, for even so short a time.”
MacDuff merely nodded, watching Philip race back to the castle. He said, wearing a small smile, “I see you have quite won over Philip. How goes Dahling?”