Surviving Scotland (16 page)
“‘Me home, me family. Everythin’ ye have taken away,’ she whispered. With a quick movement, Oden overpowered her, knocking the knife, a knife with a bone handle, far away. She reached fer it but was pinned beneath the mighty warrior. She stared defiantly inta his eyes, conscious she was about ta die. But Oden, though a fierce warrior, was moved by her plea, havin’ recently experienced the loss of a home, as well. He extended her mercy, but he wanted somethin’ in return.”
I sat riveted to my seat as I pictured the scene unfolding in my mind. My uncle grinned at my rapturous attention and paused longer than necessary.
“What? What did he want?” I prodded impatiently.
“He wanted her. Never had a woman snuck inta his tent intent on killin’ him in order ta save others. He was moved by her beauty an’ loyalty ta her village.”
“Did she agree?”
“No’ at first.” My uncle shook his head.
“What happened?”
“‘I’ll no’ marry such a man as you, ye best kill me now,’ she swore the words and glared rebelliously at him.
“‘Yes, you will,’ he swore, but released her, stood, and ordered the prisoners set free as well. Eventually, they did marry, but ‘twas a difficult road. There were many obstacles, yet their love grew strong.”
I nodded, taking in the story.
“And now I have the knife that belonged to Oden?” I asked with wonder.
“Aye, ye do. And a few other of his personal possessions.”
“‘Tis wondrous.”
“Indeed.” My uncle nodded.
I stood once again. “Thank ye, fer sharin’ yer story,” I spoke with heartfelt thanks.
“‘Tis no trouble a’tall. Ye should know where ye come from.”
“I thank ye, again.” I walked out into the hall and rushed to my room. I wanted to hold Oden’s knife.
****
The next few days left me as prisoner within the walls of the keep. Only once did Ioan escort me outside to check on Dag, and only because I begged him mercilessly for an hour. His hand was on the hilt of his dagger the entire time we were outside the walls, though we still remained within the gates.
“I donna like this, Elle. ‘Twould be best if we returned ta the keep,” Ioan spoke as his eyes shifted from one side of the courtyard wall to the other.
“Ioan, I’ll only be a moment,” I mumbled, as I gave a carrot to my nickering horse.
“Time’s up.” Ioan grasped my elbow and guided me toward the stable door. I shot him an impatient glare but followed. I was feeling trapped and needed some fresh air; Dag was the only excuse I could think up, and now my short-lived freedom was ended.
“How long am I ta a be a prisoner in me own home?”
“‘Til me missive ta the commander o’ the Black Watch is received, an’ they come ta settle the score.”
“But ye’ll stay with me… right?” I questioned as my mind conjured images of Ioan in battle and the potential of him injured, or worse. Ioan didn’t answer me, yet watched the gate as we entered the door to the keep.
“Ioan?”
“Aye?”
“Are ye goin’ ta answer?”
“Nay.” He laced his fingers through my own and led me down the hall into a sitting room off the left.
“Nay, as in, ye aren’t goin’ ta answer, or nay, as in, ye willna be with me?”
“Nay, as in, I donna ken where I’ll be, Elle. ‘Tis no’ my decision.”
“Oh.”
“But donna worry about me.”
“Too late.”
He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. He sat down on a horsehair chair and laid his head back, closing his eyes. I sat next to him on another chair and waited, curious at his reaction.
“Ye are tellin’ me ye are worried? Think about the past few months, Elle! How many times do ye think I about expired from worryin’ about ye? No! Even in the past few days! How often do ye think I about went crazy wonderin’ if I’d ever see ye alive? Or if ye came back alive, but yer heart shattered because o’ some bas—” Ioan cut his words short and stood abruptly, proceeding to pace the room. “I can defend meself, Elle. But if somethin’ were ta happen ta ye, ‘twould be more severe a threat ta me life than any enemy.” He turned a somber gaze to me and I read the depth of his fear and anxiety.
“Ioan…” I began, uncertain on how to finish.
“I donna ken what ta say ta make ye understand, Elle.” He ran his fingers down his face. “If ye want ta protect me, Elle… protect yerself. The only threat I fear in this world is losin’ ye.”
“Aye, Ioan.” I nodded, ashamed of my impatience.”Ioan? Do ye understand why I went ta the glen? Did me uncle tell ye?” I spoke after a moment of reflection.
“No.” Ioan sighed and sat back down.
“I found the necklace, Ioan.”
“Ye did?” Ioan’s green gaze sparkled with surprise but quickly darkened to smoldering anger.
“Ye went back, in the middle o’ the night, fer yer necklace?” Ioan’s tone was low and dark.
“Aye.”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why?” he whispered, his voice hoarse from frustration.
“I, um… overheard a meetin’ with me uncle and the council. They needed the money, Ioan, badly. ‘Twould seem me uncle was in debt…” My words trailed off at the glare I received from Ioan.
“Elle! What a foolish thing ta do! Could ye have at least searched for me? Or even Cullon? Could ye have waited a few hours ‘til daylight, considerin’ ye might no’ have found me?”
“I looked for ye but neither ye or Cullon…”
“A few hours… would it have made a difference, Elle?”
“I donna ken, Ioan. It sounded as if time wasna somethin’ they had…”
Ioan shook his head then leaned back once more, staring at the ceiling.
“Who… to whom is the debt owed?”
“I donna ken… but me uncle has the necklace an’, I hope, will have enough ta pay it.”
Ioan nodded and closed his eyes.
“In a twisted way, I understand Elle. But in the future, as yer husband…” My heart skipped a beat at his words. “As yer husband, Elle, ye will no’ put me through that again… understood?” His moss-colored eyes watched me intently.
“Aye.”
“Good.”
“Ioan?”
“Aye?”
“Thank ye fer saving me.”
“Always, Elle.” His gaze was tender as he regarded me.
“Ye are quite the braw warrior.” I gave him a small grin and raised an eyebrow.
“Aye, that I am… an’ donna ye ferget it, lass.” Ioan grinned and I stood to run, seeing the predatory glint in his eye. He lunged and swept me into an embrace that I willingly melted into.
“Ioan?” Morag’s voice interrupted our intimate moment, and immediately I was released from his embrace.
“Aye?”
A moment later, Morag’s face peered into the room with a slight grin.
“I would speak with ye a moment, lad.”
He nodded, and when Morag gave me a meaningful glance, I excused myself. Casting a wink in Ioan’s direction, I strode down the hall, no longer seeing the walls as my prison, but as my defense.
The handfasting was set for tomorrow, which would give Ioan and me only one day as man and wife before the other warriors of the Black Watch arrived. Once again I opened the wooden box holding my family heirlooms. With care, I took out the bone-handled knife of Oden and set it on top of my mother’s plaid that still graced my bed. I removed a small leather pouch that I hadn’t noticed before. The button unhooked easily and I gently tipped it. Out came two tarnished pieces of jewelry. First, I picked up a beautiful pin that was woven around and secured at the back. I turned it over in my hand, examining the intricate and delicate twists and curves. I placed it on the bed next to the knife. Next I picked up the ring that had fallen next to it. The gold band interlocked with a loop that tied over itself. I placed it on my first finger, but it didn’t fit. I tried all my fingers till it slid perfectly on my third finger on my right hand. It was beautiful.
A knock sounded at my door and I opened it to find Morag waiting.
“
A` stor
!
” Her words brought tears to my eyes as she reached out with soft hands and pulled me into a tight embrace.
“Ye have but a night to ready for the handfastin’.”
“Aye.” I sighed contentedly.
She nodded and patted my cheek tenderly. Her eyes grew concerned as she gazed at me. “‘Twas quite a scare ye gave us all. ‘Tis quite the braw warrior ye are ta marry.”
“Aye, he is.”
She moved farther into the room at a gentle pace.
“I see ye’ve found the Luckenbooth brooch.”
“The what?”
“Luckenbooth brooch.” She reached over and picked up the interwoven brooch from my bed and fingered it gently. “‘Twas yer mither’s, an’ upon yer christenin’, ye wore it too. ‘Tis to be worn by ye tomorrow when ye marry and will be placed upon yer first bairn at his or her christenin’ as well.”
My belly trembled as I considered the thought.
Children,
born
of Ioan.
“‘Twas me mither’s?” I asked with wonder.
“Aye, given ta her by yer grandfather, God rest him.”
Tenderly, she handed me the treasure, and I placed it carefully in the box.
“On the morrow I’ll help ye dress. ‘Tis best if ‘tis kept safe fer now.” She glanced back to the bed, and with slightly shaking hands, picked up the gold ring. Carefully she studied its design: the large loop that circled the smaller and interlocked, leaving a continuous circle. “Has yer uncle told ye the story o’ Odin, lass?”
“Odin? Aye. ‘Twas the fierce Viking warrior.”
“Aye.” She nodded. “This ring was the verra one he gave ta Guinevere, his wife.”
“Was that the woman’s name, the one that—”
“Aye, the verra same. ‘Tis a wondrous story, their love. This ring has been carried down through yer father’s family. T’was the ring he gave ta yer mither.” Morag’s eyes grew misty and she blinked them rapidly, causing tears to spill down her weathered cheeks.
“Ye miss me father.”
“Aye.” She nodded then lifted part of her Arisaid to dab her eyes from the salty tears.
“‘Tis the ring ye should wear,
A` stor
. Ioan will be pleased.”
“I’ll ask him.” I nodded, not knowing what commonly happened at a handfasting.
“Elle, ‘twould please me greatly if ye would perhaps call me Seanamhair.” Her request surprised me. Although I had thought of her as my grandmother, I couldn’t remember ever calling her by that name. I nodded, earning me a bright smile.
“I thank ye. ‘Twill be a blessin’ ta hear yer voice call me name once again.” She nodded and turned her attention to a chair by the fire.
“Do ye ken what will happen at the handfastin’?” she asked as she lowered herself into the chair.
“No, ‘twas my next question.”
“Sit?” She gestured to the other chair, and I followed her to the warm and crackling fire.
“‘Tis a simple affair…” She went on to describe the simple ceremony. Each detail left me with a hungering anticipation for tomorrow. Soon after she finished, she left, giving me a quick kiss just before she wandered into the hall. My bed beckoned, and I placed the remaining items in the box and moved it to the corner for tomorrow. With a contented sigh, I burrowed into the woolen blankets and slept.
****
The next morning flew by in a rush of activity. Ioan cast me hungry glances when we broke our fast, but didn’t speak to me.
“‘Tis fer the best that yer love dinna speak with ye,” Morag replied when I asked about his silence. She chased me from the hall and into my room where she proceeded to ready me for the ceremony.
“Why?”
“‘Tis yer weddin’ day. He’ll no’ see ye again ‘til ye are signin’ the contract.”
I sighed heavily.
“Let’s get ye dressed. I took the liberty o’ pullin’ a few stitches from yer mither’s dress so as to keep with tradition.”
“What do ye mean?” I asked as her form retreated toward a box she brought with her.
“‘Tis a tradition. Since ye dinna make yer own dress, but are wearin’ yer mither’s, I had ta change it a wee bit. When makin’ her weddin’ dress, a lass shouldn’t complete it ‘til the morn of her weddin’. So I pulled out a few stiches o’ yer mither’s so that I could put them in after ye are dressed. Thus, keepin’ the tradition.” She grinned at her own brilliance and nodded me forward as she held out the garment. It was a bright blue dress that gathered slightly at the lower waist. Cream-colored lace accented the neckline and wrists, leaving a trail of color from the sleeves. It was beautiful.
“‘Twas me mither’s?” I asked with awe. How I wished I remembered who she was, who my father was… who I was supposed to be.
“Aye.” Morag nodded. She helped me dress and then bent to re-sew a part of the hem.
“Ye are a vision, just like yer mither was on her weddin’ day.” Morag’s eyes filled with tears. Her hands trembled as she placed them against her chest.
The sound of loud hoof beats and shouts echoed from the courtyard below. Rushing to the window, I heard Morag follow me. Outside we saw a few dozen horses dance around as men dismounted and turned to one another. Each wore a tartan woven with a dark blue, emerald green and black plaid.
“The Black Watch,” Morag spoke in a reverent whisper.
“Ioan’s commander?”
“Aye, and his fellow warriors.”
“What will happen?” I asked breathlessly as I noticed Ioan’s powerful strides.
“I donna ken…” Morag spoke quietly as tears stung my eyes. Today… I wanted Ioan today.
“‘Twas a worry o’ mine… ‘twas why I spoke with yer love last night.”
I glanced at her curiously.
“Aye, I thought perhaps they would come early, an’ I wanted ta know what Ioan planned ta do should it happen.”
“What did he say?”
“That ‘twasn’t his decision.”
I sighed impatiently.
“Will ye find out fer me?” I whispered and turned toward her.
“Aye. Give me but a moment.” Morag quit the room and left me with my miserable anticipation.
****
Ioan’s commander insisted on their immediate attack. Carnasserie Castle was far too much of a useful post for them to tarry in defending it against the Jacobites’ threat. Ioan delivered the news, and I leaned against him, treasuring the soft beating of his heart.
“When do ye leave?” I glanced down to my lap, thankful I had taken off my mother’s dress and wore one of my own.
“We plan ta attack at midnight. Hopefully, we’ll catch them unawares.” Ioan’s muted tone worried me. He kissed the top of my head, and my scalp warmed then cooled as he exhaled, then deeply inhaled, my scent.
“How many are ye?”
“Thirty.”
“How many are they?”
“I donna ken… thirty or more.”
“Ioan…” I raised my head and gazed lovingly into his eyes. “Come back ta me… please, promise me that ye’ll come ba—”
My words were swallowed by Ioan’s fierce kiss as he overwhelmed my fears with his passionate attention. I needed him, his kiss, and his arms to hold me. I reached around his body and placed my hands at his back, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper. The sitting room where we spoke didn’t afford us much privacy, but I hadn’t the presence of mind to care. Ioan’s arms banded around me, and drew me closer ‘til I almost couldn’t breathe.
“I will come back, Elle.” He plunged his hands into my hair and invaded my mouth with his warm, caressing tongue.
“Do ye promise?” I asked breathlessly when he drew back slightly.
“Aye.
A ghrá geal.
” Beloved
.
“Ioan?” Cullon’s words, then loud cough, interrupted our intimate moment.
“Go away, Cullon,” Ioan grumbled as he took my lips once more.
Cullon cleared his throat.
“Cullon…” Ioan warned, but he drew back slightly.
“Ioan…” Cullon called back, mimicking Ioan’s tone.
“What do ye need, Cullon?” Ioan grumped as he released me slightly.
“Ye are bein’ summoned. We’ve a change o’ plans. We ride now.” Cullon’s teasing grin sobered immediately once he had Ioan’s full attention.
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Aye.” Ioan nodded and rose, reaching out to help me rise as well.
“I’d say I’d give ye privacy ta say goodbye ta the lass… but I’m thinkin ye have already said good bye, an’ any further privacy might lead ta an... indiscretion on me cousin’s part.” Cullon winked at me and then sidestepped as Ioan tried to pull him into a headlock.
“Just ye wait, cousin. ‘Twill be a pleasure, providin’ ye with the same torture ye’ve gifted me.”
Cullon chuckled and walked away, giving us the privacy he’d just renounced.
“I love ye, Elle… me wee haggis.” Ioan teased, trying to lighten the mood. My somber emotions must have bled through to my expression.
“Donna call me—”
“I will call ye
wife
… tomorrow.”
“Aye, Ioan. Ye will call me wife,” I whispered.
He drew me into a tight embrace, and kissed me quickly, before releasing me and striding off purposefully, without a backward glance.