Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance (46 page)

Jumping down off of Fia, Maryn tied the mare to the branch of a scrubby juniper outside the mouth of the cave. Daniel was just riding up from behind and said, “You should have waited for me to help you dismount. What if you’d twisted your ankle when you landed and fallen down?

Planting her hands on her hips, she replied, “Daniel, I believe we should go into the cave; I have something to say to you and I would rather not raise my voice out here in the open.” She swung around and flounced toward the mouth of the cave. With a swipe of her hand, she thrust a bit of the thicket aside before going inside.

*

With no small bit of trepidation, Daniel followed. He’d seen the stubborn set to her jaw and the sparks flying from her eyes, and he admitted he might have gone a bit too far with her.

After his wife found the kindling and implements to start a blaze, she thrust them at him in a silent demand for him to perform the duty and then settled down by the fire, clearly waiting for him to do the same before speaking her mind.

Daniel worked in silence. As he made the fire, he pondered how to calm the fire-breathing dragon before she worked herself into a much fiercer lather. Sighing, he knew what he needed to do. He needed to be frank with her about his fears as well as the dream that had been haunting him so often these past few moons. She’d questioned him often, but he’d not been ready to share his feelings of unease or the details of the dream with her. If he could make her understand why he felt the need to be so protective of her and, now, their bairn, mayhap she would cease battling him over it.

The flame immediately began taking the dank chill from the air and illuminated the area around them, allowing Daniel to see his wife’s expression more clearly. She wore a brooding look upon her countenance now, instead of the furious one of a few moments past. That boded well for him. It meant that she might be more receptive to his explanation. Setting the flint and steel to the side, he sat down across from her. “I know you are vexed by my perpetual need to assure your safety; in truth, I would probably feel the same were the roles reversed.”

“Aye, and you would also strain at the bit as much as I do—if not more. Your grandmother said that you bridle my freedom not from a need to control me but only from a fear that I may come to some harm. That ‘tis a reaction to the murders of your family when you were young.” She arced her hand through the air. “I have tried to be patient with your demands because of this unreasonable fear you have.” With one brow raised, she gave him a wry smile as she dropped her hand back down to her lap. “Tho’ I’m sure you do not believe that I have done so.”

Daniel smiled. “Nay, tho’ you have many fine qualities, patience is surely not one of them.” He was weary to his very bones by the number of mishaps he believed he’d prevented in the past sennights since they’d discovered her condition, as well as the battle of wills that always followed. Sobering, he continued, “I, also, have tried to be patient with you. I remember you as a bairn and the amount of freedom you were allowed. I know that my need to keep you close is not a pleasant or familiar circumstance for you.”

“Aye, ‘tis not, I—”

“Nay, hear me out. My grandmother speaks the truth. The ‘unreasonable’, as you call it, fear I have for our babe’s and your safety
is
related to my past.” He took a deep breath and plunged on. “The attack on the MacLaurin holding and the murder of my mother and my grandfather continues to haunt me. Even in my dreams. Tho’ I’ve tried, I cannot get past my grief, or my dread.”

His wife’s brows drew together. “I ken you not, Daniel. The raid happened so many years ago and you avenged your family’s deaths not long after. I understand holding the memory, but not this excessive apprehension.”

He sprang to his feet and swung around, running his hand through his hair as he paced toward the entrance. “I…honestly have no understanding of it myself.” Turning back to face her, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “But the sense of powerlessness over events in my life has returned. It had lessened over the years, so much so that I thought it had gone forever. Then I wed you. My love for you is so deep that I became fearful that you would come to some harm and I would be unable to save you.” Agitated, he turned from her once more and swept a bit of overgrowth to the side to view the scenery outside the cave. “Just as I had not been able to save my family all those years before.” Stepping out, he said, “I’ll return in a moment, my bay is coming untethered.”

Daniel walked out of the semi-darkness of the cave and squinted against the bright sunlight as he made his way toward his mount.

*

Maryn was glad for the chance to gather her thoughts. Tho’ her heart ached for her husband’s obvious torment, she could not allow his fear to control her life, nor would she let it ruin his. She must find a way to help him conquer it, for all their sakes.

Rising, she walked to the entrance and watched him as he stroked his bay’s forelock. The tether had likely not needed redoing, but he’d no doubt desired a small reprieve as well. At least he’d finally spoken to her of his feelings.

Seeing him turn and begin walking in the direction of the cave, she made her way back to her position by the fire. She sighed, knowing there was much work ahead of her. Being a good wife was so much more difficult than she’d ever imagined as a young lass.

*

His thoughts less jumbled, Daniel came back inside the cave and settled once again next to his wife. Stoking the fire and adding another turve to the flame, he said, “I was quite a joyous and lively lad before the massacre. The three of us, my mother, my grandfather, and me, were very close. Their love for me made me feel secure. The lad I had been could never conceive that anything or anyone might destroy that security.”

His wife rose from her position and settled in his lap, putting her arms around his neck and holding him close. She brushed a light kiss on his cheek before pulling back to gaze into his eyes. “How is it that you survived when your mother and grandfather did not? Papa said that the tale was yours to tell, should you decide to do so, and refused to tell me more than that your family had been massacred by your father when you were young and that you’d avenged their deaths within a couple of years afterward, but had no recollection of the deed.”

The connection he felt to his wife as he held her in his arms aided Daniel as he struggled to express his feelings to her. “I was happily catching trout from our loch the entire time my mother and grandfather were being tortured. Even now, the bile rises from my belly when I remember my glee at the number of fish I’d caught, knowing now that in those moments the monsters were raping my mother and butchering my grandfather.” Reaching up, he took the filet and veil from her head, freeing her hair and bringing it over her right shoulder to fall against her breast and into her lap. He handed her the items and she held them against her belly. When he wrapped a length of the soft bronze mass around his fingers, the scent of honeysuckle perfumed the air around them, and Daniel was momentarily transported from his gloomy remembrances.

*

Maryn was shocked at Daniel’s words. She’d had no idea his mother had been abused so prior to her murder, nor that the grandfather had been butchered. Pity and anger warred with each other inside her for what Daniel had been forced to endure. Not wanting to reveal those emotions for fear it might cause her husband to suspend further disclosure, she gently said, “So you discovered the massacre upon your return from the loch?”

Daniel turned his eyes from hers and looked into the distance, a tick forming in his jaw. “Nay,” he said through gritted teeth, “first I saw smoke coming from the direction of the keep then the blood-soaked demons rode over the knoll between the village and the loch, and I knew. I hid from view in a copse of trees, secretly watching and listening to them awhile and trying to learn their identity.” Looking back at her, he said, “They wore no identifying clothing nor showed no standard—they were covered in the woad war paint of the ancient peoples.”

He heard her gasp, but she said naught.

His head down, he regarded her hands as they clasped her filet and veil. “Aye, they were a vile lot. When I realized they were unknown to me, however, I made my way back to the keep to look for survivors, tho’ I held very little hope. The leader carried my grandfather’s head on his spike.”

*

Maryn felt ill as the horror of the image penetrated her brain. A sudden memory flashed through her mind of hiding just outside the entrance to her papa’s great hall and hearing such a tale before. “Daniel! Did you tell this tale to my papa on your visit to us when I was still a bairn?”

He looked at her closely and then gave a slow nod, a lopsided grin lighting his countenance. Tugging the strand of her hair he’d been playing with, he said, “Aye. So you remember then, do you? I wondered if you would.”

Confused at the sudden change in his demeanor, she replied carefully, “I remember naught but hearing something similar as I stood outside the entrance to our great hall.
‘Twas
you that I remember hearing, then?”

His grin broadened. “Aye, ‘twas me, for sure, and you nearly felled me when a stray shot from that damned slingshot of yours got me in my manly parts.”

Maryn’s jaw dropped and her cheeks caught fire. “I did?” she managed to squeak out. “Did I cause any damage?”

Daniel nodded. “Oh no—!” Maryn tried to jump up but he wouldn’t let her. He laughed and said, “’Twas only temporary, love. I think I’ve proven quite thoroughly over the past moons that no permanent damage was done, and you are also carrying my babe as further proof that I am hale.”

Rattled by her youthful transgression but glad that she’d unwittingly lightened his mood, Maryn stroked the pad of her thumb over her husband’s smiling lips and gave in to the urge to place a soft kiss on them before saying, “Papa said that an old man, a friend of your grandfather’s, survived and fostered you. He saw that you were trained as a warrior. Then, when you were ready, you found your father and avenged your family’s deaths.”

He shook his head, frustration ringing in his voice as he replied, “I know not if I did what I set out to do. My memory of battling my father to the death has never returned, even after all this time. Christ’s Bones! Even the dream that haunts me has naught to do with that final battle.”

Maryn stroked her husband’s cheek. “You may never regain that memory, husband. And mayhap ‘tis best that you not do so. For, what good would more horrible memories do you?” Reminded suddenly of Callum’s reason for wanting to keep his coins a secret from Daniel, she was glad now that she’d agreed to his request.

*

Comforted by his wife’s gentle touch, Daniel pulled her against him and held her close for a moment, allowing some of the tension in his shoulders to ease as he weighed her words. “Nay, I think I can never put this horror completely behind me until I know the full story of my life. There is a…”—gazing into her eyes, he searched for the words to express his feelings—“…a void, a hollow place inside of me…’tis as if an important part of who I am is gone. I
must
know the whole of the story.”

“Then we will do everything we can to bring that memory to the surface. Have you forced yourself to think on it often? Mayhap if you review all the events leading up to the time where your memory ends, then you might remember something new.”

“Nay, I’ve avoided thinking about them, believing that the memory would come more easily if I did not force it. Mayhap it
is
time for a different tactic. I shall do as you say and see what follows.”

She kissed his cheek. “Now, tell me your dream.”

Daniel watched the firelight dancing in her hair as he described the dream to her, as well as his terrible feeling of impotence as he watched the events unfold. “Do you see now why I’ve kept you close? Tho’, I realize now, ‘twas too close. I’ve needed to feel that I had the power to keep you out of danger.”

Smiling, she said, “Aye, you have kept me too close. But I better understand the reasons for your carefulness now. We can strive together to find the level of care that will allow me more freedom while it gives you the assurance of my safety.”

*

Bao leaned against the cold stone of the cave wall and listened to the exchange between his brother and his brother’s wife. He’d known of their father’s plan, but had not known the details until just now, hearing them as Daniel told his wife. Bao agreed with his brother’s assertion: Their father and his men had been vile; more so than Daniel likely realized, and they’d deserved their final fate.

Bao straightened and on silent feet made his way back to his cave and the chamber in which he’d been living, surprised that the two had not smelled his catch. But, considering the subject of their discussion, he supposed they must have been unaware of all else.

He’d made a habit of coming through the labyrinthine corridors of the cave he and his sister dwelled in to this one in order to make his way to the loch undetected. This area of the glen was rarely populated and it had given him the chance to catch trout a couple of times a sennight for their dinner. Of course, he left before dawn and returned by mid-morn, and he wore a disguise in case any saw him from a distance.

He’d just made his way through the thicket covering the mouth of the cave when he’d heard the sound of a horse approaching. Upon hearing Daniel’s voice, he’d become curious and had decided to stay awhile, hidden just inside the entrance to the back corridor.

As he’d listened, he’d realized the time had almost come to make himself known. But not quite yet. First, he must inform his sibling of his decision and plan the moment well.