New series. However, the main characters appear in Sorcha and Lachlan from 'The MacGregors' series.

Iain Henderson is a fearsome warrior and trusted advisor to the Henderson laird. For years he pursued an old flame who repeatedly broke his heart. Just when he thought he would never move on, he encounters a mysterious woman who piques his interest and makes him feel alive. If only strange men would stop trying to kill her every time he's nearby, he might consider courting her.

Yesenda MacDonald was raised in an abbey by an elite order of nuns. Trained in the ways of combat, she has sworn to protect an old secret. A secret so deadly that even William, the Duke of Normandy, wants her silenced. Fiercely independent, she has no time for matters of the heart. That is until she meets a Highland warrior who has made it his mission in life to protect her at all costs.

If you like your medieval romance with a twist of suspense, royal intrigue, secrets, action and adventure, then you'll enjoy this book.

Content Warning: This story contains alpha males and feisty heroines wielding weapons of mass distraction. Not suitable for people under 18. It contains mature content, some violence and mild steam.

***

Prologue

1035 – Folkestone Abbey, Kent, England

“Robert! Robert, le Magnifique! My love, where are you? Our son needs you.” Duchess Eloise of Normandy was delirious and ranting while on the birthing bed in the abbey.

“Your Grace, all will be well,” Abbess Murdina said as she placed a cold compress on Eloise’s brow.

“Robert! Why have you abandoned me here? Abbaye de la Trinité de Fécamp est froide,” Eloise shouted while reaching out into thin air as if her husband were there.

“What is she saying, Abbess?” Sister Bissett asked.

“She believes she is still at Fécamp Abbey. She complains of the cold. It is not a good sign, Sister.”

The duchess was perspiring profusely. She clasped Murdina’s hand and asked, “Has something happened to Robert? What if he dies in the Holy Land? What will William do to my son?” She collapsed back onto the bed, muttering indecipherable words.

Murdina knew what the duchess spoke of. It was known far and wide that Robert the Duke of Normandy, had formally named his illegitimate son, William, as his heir.

It was typical of Robert to refuse to marry his mistresses yet claim his illegitimate children. Except this time, he married Eloise and only a few were privy to it. But Murdina knew because she was present at the wedding in France.

Murdina shook her head at the complication this would cause should the child live. She did all she could to sooth and calm the duchess while she and Sister Bissett frantically worked throughout the night trying to save both mother and child.

Eloise suddenly clutched Murdina’s arm and demanded, “Promise me you will keep him safe until Robert returns?”

“Aye, I promise I will keep your bairn safe.”

“It is a boy, I can feel it. We must name him ‘Edmund.’ That’s what Robert wanted. Edmund is a nice name, oui?”

“Aye, it is a strong name.”

The duchess visibly relaxed, then her body shuddered as if wracked with pain. She bore down, letting out a piercing scream.

Sister Bissett exchanged a worried glance and whispered, “There’s too much blood.”

Murdina replied, “Pray, Sister and dinnae give up.”

The sisters worked hard to save the pair, but their efforts were in vain, and the fates unkind. By midnight all was quiet except for the cry of a tiny babe. A babe whose first breath was taken just as his mother breathed her last.

Murdina cradled the tiny baby boy and mourned the loss of his mother. She whispered, “Welcome to the world, Edmund, tis sorry I am that your life has begun with loss. But we shall make the best of it.”

The babe seemed to settle as the abbess soothed him.

Sister Bissett asked, “What happens now? Should we send for the duke?”

Murdina replied, “Robert is dead. He perished on the journey back from Jerusalem, just outside of Nicaea. William is the Duke of Normandy now. I did not have the heart to tell the duchess. The missive arrived this morn.”

“Oh Abbess, what a tragedy,” Sister Bissett said as she made the sign of the cross.

“Arrange a proper burial and notify her family.”

“And what of the bairn?” Sister Bissett asked.

This abbey is a denizen of Normandy. We will take him with us. Send a missive to Brother Mateo for his assistance and a message to the Order. The child will need parents,” Murdina replied.

“Aye, it shall be done. Did the duke make any provisions for his family?”

“He did. A parcel of land, some coin and an annuity for the duchess should he pass before her. It will be held in trust until Edmund reaches majority.”

“That is more than most noblemen leave their families.”

“Aye, but Robert was not your ordinary nobleman. He was kind.”

“Did you ken the late duke, Abbess Murdina?”

“A long time ago. A very long time ago.”

“Then I am sorry for your loss as well.”

Murdina just nodded, then said, “Oh, and one more thing, Sister Bissett.”

“Aye.”

“Whatever happens, William must never ken he has a legitimate half-brother.”

***

Chapter 1

1036 - Saddell Abbey, Argyll, Scotland

“Please dinnae leave me here, Papa, please. I promise to be good. I will not eat much, and I’ll stay out of sight.” Yesenda clung to her father. Her arms wound tight around his waist, her cheek resting against his stomach.

Grant MacDonald was a large imposing figure who rarely showed emotion unless it came to his twelve-year-old daughter. His features softened as he held her tight and tried to placate her.

“Och, come now, sweeting. Tis not a punishment leaving you at the abbey, tis a blessing. You will learn much more from the sisters than me, and my war band can teach you.”

“No, I only want to learn from you, Papa. You can teach me anything,” she replied, sobbing.

He stroked the back of her hair as he whispered and gentled his voice, “With your màthair gone, you need a woman’s touch and a fine education. I cannot teach you those things, sweeting. This is the best place for you.”

“I dinnae need women. Please, Da, I can learn everything from you.”

“Mo nighean, you are a lass, and you need to ken womanly things.”

Yesenda began sobbing in earnest. She could not bear to be separated from all she held dear; it was too much for her pre-teen emotions to process.

“But I dinnae need those things, Papa. I want to be a warrior. I will learn more from your men than what nuns can teach me.” Yesenda had worked herself into a state.

Grant crouched down so he could speak to her properly.

“Yesenda, someday you will make a fine warrior. But you need women to teach you how to become a fine mistress for the clan. Now, dinnae embarrass us with this watery display.” He smiled to soften the reproach.

Yesenda sniffed, then remembered they had an audience. A nun and two novices stood a short distance away. Her spine straightened.

Yesenda wiped her tears and replied, “Sorry Papa, tis just that I… I… love you and I will miss you.” She hiccupped the words.

The laird’s eyes softened and glistened with unshed tears. It was the only outward sign that it was difficult for him to part with her, too. “I love you, sweeting. More than anything in the world. It’s why I need to do this. I’ll visit as soon as I can.” His voice cracked slightly, then he cleared his throat and said, “Come now, the sisters are waiting. MacDonald’s dinnae keep people waiting.”

With those words, he hugged Yesenda once more, wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her cheek, then stepped away and ushered her towards the women.

When Yesenda was standing beside the nuns, her father smiled at her one last time, then took his leave. Yesenda watched him slowly disappear down the cloister, his gait sure and strong. Her father turned back once, waved, and Yesenda frantically waved back in return. Then he was gone.

That was the last time Yesenda saw her father alive. Because a month later, Laird MacDonald was killed in a skirmish with a hostile clan. When news reached the abbey, Yesenda was inconsolable that she would never see her beloved father again. She had lost both parents within a year, and she was far from home, where her heart ached to return.

Yesenda’s older brother, Ruadh took over as laird and she wrote several times begging Ruadh to let her return home, but each time he replied telling her it was not safe. Still, she begged until finally she gave up.

Yesenda vowed never to love anyone again because everyone she loved either died or abandoned her.

***

The Refectory, Saddell Abbey

It had been several weeks since her father’s death and Yesenda kept to herself. She did not converse or engage other than was necessary to show politeness. The combination of grief and homesickness was debilitating most days. Another reason she kept to herself was a handful of girls tormented and bullied all newcomers, and especially the most vulnerable.

The tormentors came from wealthy families and the ringleaders were Eilidh Ruthven and Una Pringle. Whilst Yesenda could understand that some people were just mean, she could not excuse the fact Sister Ines, who supervised the common assemblies, turned a blind eye to it.

So, Yesenda did everything in her power to remain invisible. To not attract any unwarranted attention. It was safer that way. Each night before going to bed, she prayed for deliverance from the abbey and from the strange new world she now occupied.

While the girls tormented everyone on a whim, they seemed particularly vicious towards one newcomer called Naomi. She was Italian, and Yesenda noted they were almost the opposite in physical appearance. Yesenda was blonde-haired and fair. She wore her long locks loose and her build was leaner, taller. Naomi’s skin tone was sun kissed bronze, and her hair was a lustrous black. She had high cheekbones and wore her hair in two long braids. Naomi was shorter and curvaceous but there was a sadness in Naomi’s dark brown eyes that Yesenda felt an affinity with.

Whenever Yesenda saw Naomi, it was as if she was peering into a mirror, reflecting her own debilitating grief. Under any other circumstances, Yesenda would have loved to talk to her, but to be anywhere around Naomi meant attracting the vitriol of the terrible two, so she kept her distance and remained invisible.

One day, Yesenda was in the refectory quietly tucked away in a corner, eating her meal. She kept her head down when the trouble began.

She heard a commotion and quickly glanced up just in time to see Una push Naomi. The latter fell to her knees, dropping her plate of food onto the floor. Naomi kept her head down and quickly tried to clean up the mess.

Yesenda’s eyes scanned the room, and she noticed the other girls watching quietly but trying to avert their eyes. Meanwhile, Sister Ines smirked and pretended to be occupied with something else.

“Naomi, you dinnae belong here. No one likes you, foreigner,” Eilidh said, now moving closer. She surreptitiously tipped over Naomi’s dish with the tip of her shoe again, spilling the contents Naomi had just picked up.

Naomi remained still and did not move. Her head lowered in submission.

“You’re so clumsy, always falling over making a mess,” Una taunted as she kicked Naomi in the spine. Naomi grunted and tried to move out of their way, but Eilidh stood on the end of her long braid so she could not move far without it hurting her scalp.

Yesenda gripped her spoon tighter, watching the display, willing it to be over soon. Dinnae get involved, she chanted in her head over and over. She reasoned that the tormentors would soon tire of it and move on as they had before. Except this time, something changed. Their treatment was worse.

Naomi tried again to pick up her dish when Una placed her foot on Naomi’s hand, effectively crushing her fingers. Naomi winced but did not make a sound.

It was when Naomi glanced up and stared straight at Yesenda that she caught her expression. It was filled with pain. Naomi was biting her lip to keep from crying out, and that sadness as bleak as Yesenda’s own stared right back at her. Yesenda saw something else in Naomi’s eyes. Hopelessness.

Without hesitation, Yesenda rose from her chair and yelled, “Leave her alone!”

All noise ceased in the refectory. There was a brief pause before everyone stared at Yesenda including Una and Eilidh. Yesenda realized it was too late to back down now.

The two girls eyed her up and down, then snorted. Una ground her foot harder into Naomi’s hand, almost taunting Yesenda to do something.

And she did.

As if borne of instinct, Yesenda picked up the uneaten apple on her plate and threw it will all her might at Una’s head. By some stroke of luck, her aim was true, and it smacked the girl right in the forehead making a loud ‘thwacking’ sound.

Una staggered backwards with a grunt, and Eilidh stepped away from Naomi in shock. Naomi looked stunned, but quickly grabbed her plate and scurried out of the way.

Yesenda plucked an apple off the girl’s plate beside her, and this time took aim at Eilidh. Again, her aim was perfect, and Eilidh screeched, “Sister Ines! Yesenda is attacking us.”

Before Yesenda could do anything else, someone gripped her arm and forcibly yanked her away from the table.

“What is the meaning of such violence?” Sister Ines shouted whilst painfully clutching Yesenda’s arm. Her nails were digging into her skin. As if Yesenda was the one in the wrong.

Yesenda watched as everyone in the refectory stilled and watched her with wide eyes from around the room. Meanwhile, the two perpetrators were behaving as if they were victims. Caterwauling like toddlers.

Sister Ines shoved Yesenda to stand in the middle of the room. She said, “Violence tis the work of the devil. You think to bring your vile nature here and sully this peaceful place. How dare you!”

Yesenda stared at Sister Ines and felt indignation. Seeing as she had already shattered her cloak of invisibility, she decided she had nothing to lose, so Yesenda loosened her tongue.

“Dinnae talk to me about violence when you allow those vile creatures to torment us all. The devil is the ultimate deceiver, and they continue to lie and yet you, Sister Ines, allow it. How. Dare. You!”

Sister Ines stared at Yesenda in shock before backhanding her hard across the face. “Insolent child!” she shouted and raised her arm to slap her again. Yesenda braced but never felt the slap because a woman dressed in travel clothes suddenly appeared beside Sister Ines and gripped her arm.

“Sister Ines, we dinnae manhandle our charges. Go to the chapel and reflect upon your actions this day,” the woman commanded.

Sister Ines huffed and gave Yesenda a dirty look, then stormed out of the refectory.

The woman then addressed the room. “Now, will someone tell me what on earth is going on here?”

Una stepped forward and replied, “Abbess Murdina, Naomi has been stealing food from the scullery and we tried to stop her, but Yesenda threw apples at us.”

“Bugiarda! I do not steal food. They pushed me for no reason,” Naomi yelled from her spot in the corner.

“And what of your part in this?” Murdina asked Yesenda.

Yesenda replied, “Tis true, I hit them with apples, but I am not sorry for it!”

“Why did you feel the need to hurl fruit about the room?”

“They were hurting Naomi for their own pleasure. I wanted them to stop.”

“You are lying,” Eilidh shouted.

“Tis your word against theirs. Unless there is anyone else willing to give their version of events?” Murdina looked about the room.

There was no answer as the girls lowered their eyes to the floor.

Then Abbess Murdina said, “Very well. I will have to dig deeper. Sister Bissett?”

Another sister entered, also in travel clothes. “Aye, Mother Abbess,” she replied.

“Take these four outside please. In their absence, I will ask the assembly which version is the truth.”

It was the first time Una and Eilidh paled.

Ten minutes later, the abbess emerged from the refectory with a stormy expression and said, “Una and Eilidh, you will come with me now! Yesenda, go finish your meal and please refrain from throwing fruit.”

Yesenda nodded, relieved she would not get into any more trouble.

Abbess Murdina’s expression softened when she addressed Naomi. She said, “Lass, the cook has made up a fresh plate for you.”

Naomi replied, “Thank you, Mother Abbess.”

Naomi and Yesenda slowly walked back into the refectory. The tension in the air had disappeared. As she walked through the refectory, Yesenda felt all eyes on her, except this time each girl nodded to her as she passed them. It was a silent acknowledgement that the balance of power had shifted that day. Without coercion or fear, the other girls told the truth.

Instead of going to her own seat, Naomi brought her food over and sat beside Yesenda. As they settled side by side, it seemed for the first time in a long while, everything was right with the world.

“Thank you for speaking up for me,” Naomi said.

“Tis all right. I am sorry I did not do it sooner,” Yesenda replied.

“Una and Eilidh will be furious. Yesenda, I urge you to be on your guard at night, for that is when they strike.”

“Thank you, Naomi. I will keep that in mind.”

Naomi smiled and Yesenda returned it, then they enjoyed their meal together.

They say the strongest bonds are forged in fire. That day, Yesenda MacDonald and Naomi Augusto created an unbreakable bond that would serve them well in the years to come.

***

Chapter 2

Fight to the Death

Several nights later, Yesenda had just drifted off to sleep in her cell when her nightmare began.

“Get up!” someone said in the dark.

Yesenda felt a splash of cold water on her face. A hand clasped over her mouth, and she was unceremoniously dragged from the bed by her hair. She hit the floor with a hard thump. Yesenda groaned at the shooting pain along her hip when she slammed onto the cold stone floor. She tried to rise but a foot pressed down on her chest pinning her down.

Yesenda could not see her attackers clearly, but she heard the whispered giggles, and she knew it was them. Her tormentors, Una and Eilidh seeking vengeance for her interference.

Una said, “After your show of bravery in the refectory, we need to teach the other girls that no one crosses us without paying dearly for it. Now that your father is dead, that makes you a worthless bitch like the foreign whore you tried to help.”

Yesenda tried to move, but she could not with the weight confining her chest. She felt around for her stick that she kept near the bed but could not reach it. In the dark, she could just make out their shadowy figures and clearly, they meant to frighten her.

What they failed to realize was Yesenda had spent most of her time in the company of her father and his warriors. She had learned a thing or two about fighting and she would die before she lay helpless on the ground.

They had pinned her chest down, but her legs were free.

That was their first mistake.

Yesenda twisted her hip and with as much strength as she could muster; she raised her leg and kicked Una behind the knee. The girl toppled over, losing balance and hit the wooden frame of the bed, hard.

With the foot off her chest, Yesenda could breathe easier, and she twisted her hip to the opposite side and kicked Eilidh straight in the face. She heard an ‘oomph’ sound as the sole of her foot connected with flesh. Yesenda scrambled to her feet and pushed Una out of the way. Una grabbed Yesenda by the neck and did a choke hold, pulling her back down to the floor.

Yesenda countered with a grapple move and rolled them, so she was straddling Una and keeping her pinned to the floor. Whether it was the shock of being attacked at night, or the months of pent-up frustration and grief, Yesenda was not sure, but she unleashed all her fury with her fists.

Una screamed in pain, yelling, “Get her off me!”

Eilidh tried to come to her rescue and pulled Yesenda’s hair so hard Yesenda felt the burning in her scalp.

That was all it took. Something snapped in Yesenda that night and suddenly she did not care if she lived or died. All she cared about was beating the two girls to a pulp.

Yesenda reached behind her, grabbed Eilidh's face and dug her nails into her cheeks, drawing blood. Eilidh released her grip on Yesenda’s hair and cried out in pain, frantically trying to pry Yesenda’s fingers from her face. Yesenda pulled her down until she, too, was on the floor alongside Una, then she lashed out in the dark with her fists. Yesenda heard their shouts of pain as her fists wreaked havoc. She heard their panicked cries.

“Let’s go, let’s go before Sister Bissett finds us.” There was an edge of desperation in their voices.

Eventually Una got free and tried to pull Eilidh out of the room. But not done yet, Yesenda reached out, yanking one escapee back and punched her in the nose. Then she lunged forward, grabbed Una’s leg, and bit down hard into the flesh. Una screamed in pain. All the while, Yesenda fought like a wildcat. She used every inch of her body to lash out at her attackers.

Before long, footsteps were heard running down the hallway. The door burst open, admitting light into the room. Yesenda rolled and grabbed her stick on the other side of the bed, and held it out in front of her, ready to take on whoever else was coming through that door. She had a feral look on her face, like she was ready to fight to the death.

However, it was not more attackers but someone else entirely. The light illuminated her face and caught the burnished tint of her hair.

“What is the meaning of this?” Abbess Murdina demanded.

“She tried to attack us,” Una replied.

Yesenda closed her eyes momentarily, knowing she would most likely be punished now for fighting. She lowered her head and stared at the floor. Then lifted her eyes when the abbess asked, “Then why are you both in her room? Did Yesenda summon you here so she could attack you in the middle of the night?”

They tried to answer but came up empty.

“Yesenda, what happened?” the abbess asked.

Yesenda kept panting as she glared at the girls. She noticed both looked terrible. They had cuts and abrasions to the face and neck, and both were sporting swollen eyes.

Yesenda replied, “They came into my room uninvited. I wanted to make it clear they were not welcome.”

Yesenda caught a flash of amusement cross the abbess’s face before she hid it.

The abbess cleared her throat and said, “My patience is done with you two, Una and Eilidh. You can be sure I will send a missive to your parents in the morn. In the meantime, there will be no more moving about rooms at night. Go back to your beds now.

“But Abbess Murdina, twas Yesenda’s fault —”

“I said leave now or so help me. I’ll throw you both out into the street right now. Do you hear me?” Her voice was laced with steel.

They gasped, then quickly scrambled away.

When they had gone, the abbess stood for a moment and stared at Yesenda as if she found something amusing. Then she made a ‘tsk’ sound and said, “Good lord, child, you scared the devil out of those two. You ken violence is not the answer to everything?”

“They started it—”

“Aye, I ken it,” Abbess Murdina said, raising her hand palm up. “Calm down, you dinnae need to explain what happened. They’re fortunate you did not maim them.”

Yesenda still hadn’t moved or relaxed her position.

The abbess sighed then said, “Lass, the way you hold that thing is all wrong.” She took the stick off Yesenda, repositioned her wrists at a different angle, then placed the stick back in her hands.

“Two hands, Yesenda, and one foot a short distance behind. That allows you to pivot without losing your balance.” Abbess Murdina gently nudged Yesenda’s foot to alter her current stance. “You must stay fluid and always remain on your feet. Like this.”

The abbess then pulled a short staff from the sleeve of her gown. To Yesenda’s surprise, it extended. Then, without warning, she swiped it at Yesenda. Yesenda immediately pivoted. She lifted her stick and blocked the hit.

The abbess grinned and said, “Well done, lass. You see? When your stance is right, you have better control from the core of your body.” She gestured toward Yesenda’s stomach and hips. “And always keep a weapon nearby when you sleep. One must always be prepared for a sneak attack.”

Yesenda nodded, still slightly reeling at the bizarre, one-sided conversation she was having with the abbess.

The abbess then sat on the bed and said, “I have heard from the other girls about Una and Eilidh. It was remiss of me to not ken what was going on sooner and leave Sister Ines in charge. She’s their aunt and thinks they’re angels. But I assure you, I will keep a keener eye over my charges.”

“Thank you, Abbess.”

“Now, I will send Sister Bissett in here to tend to your wounds. In the meantime, get some rest.”

Murdina rose and walked towards the door. Then she paused and said, “I asked several girls what happened in the refectory that day. They said you protected Naomi. Why did you? You dinnae ken Naomi well, and you usually keep to yourself.”

Yesenda took a deep breath and replied, “I… I ken what it is like to feel abandoned in the world. I did not want her to face them alone.”

The abbess smiled. “Aye, tis a brave thing you did, lass. To make a stand when the safer option would be to remain quiet and do nothing.” Murdina paused as if contemplating something, then asked, “How would you like to learn to defend yourself so there is never a need to attack?”

Yesenda looked surprised. “I would like that very much if you will teach me.”

“I will. But you must keep up with your studies and attend vespers.”

Yesenda nodded. “Aye, I can do that.”

“Then it is done. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to a… different lesson plan.”

“Abbess, may I ask a favor?”

“Aye.”

“Can Naomi train too? I fear she desperately needs to ken how to protect herself.”

The abbess grinned again and replied, “Dinnae worry, I visited Naomi earlier. It would seem you have more in common than you both ken.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and one more thing, Yesenda. I need you to choose a name.”

“A name?”

“Aye. Once you agree to work with me, I require my pupils to use a different name when we are not within the abbey walls. So, choose a name.”

Yesenda pondered it a moment, then said, “Miriam Ferguson.”

“Why did you choose that name?”

“Miriam was my mother’s name, and Ferguson was my grandmother’s clan. I was close to them both.”

“It is a fine name. By the way, how good are you at keeping secrets?”

“I have no one to tell.”

“Then you’ll do, Miriam Ferguson, you’ll do.”

***

The Order

Several days later, Murdina spoke to an old friend. He was an Italian monk from Montecassino Abbey in the mountains of Lasio.

“Brother Mateo, I have taken on two new students. I would like you to have a hand in their training.”

“Se sono adatti,” he said and shrugged.

“Aye, I think they are very suitable. One of them is a laird’s daughter. The other hails from your homeland, Castelnuovo dell’Abatei in Tuscany. Her parents worked at the Abbey of Sant’Antimo.

Brother Mateo nodded his head while listening, then replied, “We shall see.”

***

Abbess Murdina summoned Yesenda and Naomi to meet in a large room used for activities. When they arrived, the abbess stood next to a monk Yesenda had never seen before.

“Badessa Murdina speaks highly of you both,” he said. “I am Brother Mateo. I would like to test your skills if I may?”

Naomi shrugged her shoulders. Yesenda remained silent.

“You.” He pointed at Yesenda. “Show me what you know.” Brother Mateo tossed a wooden quarterstaff at her.

He walked over to a pitcher with wine. Poured himself a cup and held it in his right hand. Then he picked up a wooden stick with his left hand and said, “Use your weapon to make me spill the wine in this cup.”

Yesenda nodded then ran at him and did a spin through with the staff aiming for the cup.

Mateo waited, then sidestepped and blocked her staff with his stick. He spun it and whacked her hip.

“Ouch!” she said. “You didna say you would hit me back.”

Brother Mateo replied, “First lesson. The enemy comes with no warning. Again!”

Yesenda ran at him again, this time aiming her staff with more precision. She attempted to hit his elbow. Brother Mateo dodged the hit and whacked the back of her leg. Yesenda noted his movements were fast and fluid. No wine spilled from the cup.

She tried again and missed. Then she felt a hit to her shoulder blade.

“Prova di nuovo,” he said.

Yesenda looked confused.

“It means try again.”

Yesenda tried to trick him this time. She jerked the staff forward, then tossed it to her other hand and swiped at the cup. It connected and, for a suspended moment in time; the cup tilted forward, threatening to spill its contents. Yesenda held her breath, expecting victory, but Mateo used his stick to catch the cup and tilt it back upright. The base of the cup was now balanced on his stick.

Yesenda’s mouth dropped wide open at the move.

Mateo grabbed the cup and whacked her arm.

“Ouch!” Yesenda became angry and ran at him. Again, he dodged at the last minute and moved out of the way. She fell face first, panting for breath. Yesenda was fuming now. She rose and sprinted towards him again. This time Mateo kicked her legs out from under her. She hit the floor hard.

“Alzarsi!” he demanded.

Yesenda furrowed her brow.

“It means get up,” Naomi said.

Yesenda groaned and got up.

“Controlla la tua rabbia!” Brother Mateo said.

“What does that even mean?” Yesenda huffed in frustration.

Mateo replied, “It means control your anger. Never allow emotions to rule your head. It is the fastest way to die.”

Yesenda sobered at his words. He was right. She had spent more time getting hit than anything else. She was so grateful when he called for Naomi to take her turn.

No matter how hard Naomi tried, she too could not spill an ounce of wine.

After a tiring afternoon where both girls spent more time sprawled on the floor, Brother Mateo gave his verdict.

He paced a little, rubbed his chin, paused then nodded and said, “I will train you both.”

Murdina replied, “Well done, lassies. Now, the real work begins.”

***

Five years later, when Yesenda turned seventeen, Brother Mateo introduced her to an unfamiliar weapon. It had a long handle, but the head was made of bronze and contained eight spiked flanges. He called it a mace. It was heavier than the quarterstaff she was used to, but the rudimentary movement patterns she used for the staff were similar. Yesenda just had to adjust the spin to incorporate the extra weight.

That was the same year Naomi and Yesenda officially became members of the Ordine Secretorum. A secret order of women trained in combat with the purpose of protecting the vulnerable.

They gifted Yesenda a mace forged in Italy, including a black robe with an insignia in the inlay. It was a mace crossed over an iron quarterstaff.

“Do you vow to keep our secrets, protect the vulnerable and serve the order when called upon?” the abbess asked.

Yesenda replied, “I do.”

“Welcome to the Order, Miriam Ferguson.”

***

Keywords: Love at first sight, love triangle, reluctant heroine, Abbey, Alba, Normandy, Matilda of Flanders, Romantic Suspense, Medieval Empires, Italian monks, French nuns, intrigue, action and adventure, Warrior women, Secret Societies. 99c ebooks.

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Keeper of Secrets