"Great program," Callan echoed, "especially the latter. Only you forgot that I don't know how to wrestle, how to throw a spear, or how to hunt."
Sir Malcolm's face dimmed, "I don't want to say anything bad about your father, but it's unforgivable that a free, noble man hasn't taught his son how to handle arms, to hunt, and to defeat others in fist battles."
"My father is not guilty. I myself refused to learn all this, although he wanted, both with good and bad, to get me to it. For him himself, this program would be a real pleasure, I'm sure of it! Malcolm, it's just my fault that I'm a whiny and a softy. My father loved me too much to force me on anything."
Sir Malcolm's expression softened. "You're a good and affectionate son," Malcolm smiled. "I'm going to teach you wrestling skills myself and by race day you'll be able to face any of my warriors."
"You're crazy! Osgar and Oisin will make a pancake out of me!"
"Don't worry about it, you don't have to participate in the wrestling competition," Sir Malcolm laughed, "and Osgar and Oisin also have their weaknesses. I'm going to teach you how to handle arms today even though of course you won't become a master in one day, but you can at least participate in the hunt."
Callan followed Sir Malcolm, concluding that this was the first time he had spoken well about his father in a conversation with someone. He had even claimed to love his father, even though he himself didn't feel at all sure about it. Having spent the rest of the day with Sir Malcolm in the hall of arms, utterly tired and exhausted, Callan was about to go to Kingsdale again at night.
The girl, Gledis, who came to him to provide his services, was driven away by him, while the sons of the king of Alypa were gladly accepted with a pitcher of wine and invited Sir Malcolm to drink along.
"You won't do anything to them?" wondered Callan, waiting for the scruffy princes to leave.
"Until that evening, until they open the gates to the Campbells, no," the lord of the Danvegen Castle smiled. "We don't know how or how often they communicate with the enemy and whether killing them would make Campbells more cautious right now. But after the battle and the victory, I've come up with a great way to deal with these traitors."
"How so?" Callan asked curiously.
"It will remain a mystery and will come as a surprise in the upcoming feasts."
"You're right," the boy agreed, "I like surprises. Besides, how far can our princes escape. You can easily find them by smell."
Sir Malcolm laughed, Callan echoed him, and the two McLaughlins, separated by centuries of upbringing, beliefs, and understanding of life, continued to chat and have a drink, fun, feeling much closer to each other than to any other person of his time.
In the evening, Callan again travelled to Kingsdale. After saying goodbye to Sir Malcolm and hugging Osgar and Oisin, the boy wanted to get to his previous place at Campbell castle. The scene at the dinner table hadn't changed much. The candles, as before, with their dull, trembling flame, illuminated the sitters, leaving the rest of the room in the semi-darkness. There was also a fireplace glowing in the corner, a foot of tables for food and drink.