by Barbara Bard
“What is the plan of attack?” Gavina inquired.
“We wait until Simon arrives,” Eamon said. “We hide in the shadows. We wait until he creeps into the village. Once they arrive in the fields, we will hae one of our archers ignite it with one of his arrows. Simon’s men will panic. They will start to scatter. We will attempt tae take as many of them down as we can from a distance. Whatever men seep through the cracks, we will engage them in combat. From there, it is just a matter of engaging them all until naw man is left standing.”
Moments later, Connor found his fastest rider and ordered him to ride west as fast as he could. “Find Simon and the Hands of God,” Connor told him. “Once ye ken of their location, return here immediately and inform us. From there…we wait.”
The rider, a strapping and tall young man, mounted his horse and rode off into the west. Gavina, Connor, and Eamon watched him as he rode away, their nerves on edge as they awaited his return.
The rider rode for a little over an hour into the west, the sun dipping and disappearing into the horizon as the night sky slowly began to paint itself a shade of black. He rode through fields, rivers, and ravines for some time, his head swiveling and eyes scanning the terrain for signs of anything out of the ordinary.
The rider then came to an outcropping, a small area near a cliffside where the scent of smoke was invading his nostrils. He slowed his horse, dismounting it and crouching down as he came to the edge of a lookout spot and saw a small village engulfed in flames.
The rider looked on with squinted eyes and saw that yet another village had been decimated by the Hands of God. Upon closer examination, he saw that the entire village had been wiped out, and the Hands of God were going about looting and killing off the last members of the village and recruiting those into their employ who were still left standing.
The rider counted the numbers, judge the distance from his location back to the Baird’s village, retreated, mounted his horse, and hustled his way back. Eamon and Gavina waited for him eagerly to arrive.
Chapter 33
Gavina and Eamon were perched on Finlay’s rooftop, the twinkling stars were shining overhead and the bright glow of the moon illuminated the village. The fires were still burning, the entire village still appearing like it had been damaged, as they had planned.
Gavina sighed. “It grows late,” she said. “I wonder if the scout is alright.”
Eamon waved his hand through the air. “I think all is well. It has only been a couple of hours. I think he will return shortly.”
They remained silent for a few moments, only the chirping of crickets was audibled as they looked out at the fields. The scent of lavender was thick in the air, Gavina having instructed Rose and a few others who stayed behind to fight to mask the scent of the flammable liquids that had doused the fields.
“Dae ye think we will stay here forever?” Gavina asked.
“What dae ye mean?” Eamon said with a squinted expression.
“Here. In our village. Dae ye think we will dwell in this place forever?”
“Was that nae the intention? Father and mother fought hard tae preserve these lands. This is our home.”
Gavina shrugged. “I dinnae ken,” she said. “There are plenty of places in the Highlands tae dwell. Perhaps…, perhaps this is a sign, a sign that once we hae settled this matter that the time has come tae move on.”
Eamon shook his head, memories of his father, mother, and his childhood flooding back to him. “I dinnae want tae leave here. This is our home. This has always been our home.”
“Home is where family is,” Gavina said. “The structures and the rest of it are merely things tae sustain us. Wherever we settle is our home.”
Eamon sighed, shifting his weight. “Once this matter is settled,” he said, “we will live in peace. We will nae hae tae struggle any longer.”
“We hae said that many a time. Finlay said that many a time. But we need tae find a lasting peace, Eamon. We cannae hae generation after generation suffer through this type of turmoil. Our lives hae been defined by chaos and struggle. I want the next generation tae ken nothing but true, everlasting peace.”
Eamon reached out his hand and rested in on top of Gavina’s. “We will find peace, Gavina. This will be the end of the matter. I swear it tae ye.”
Off in the distance, the sound of a single rider approaching became audible. It was no mystery who it was, so Gavina and Eamon descended the rooftop and meet the rider with Connor at the front of the village.
“What news dae ye bring?” Connor said.
Through panted breaths as the rider dismounted his horse, he said: “Simon and his men hae burned another village. They appear tae hae recruited mair numbers.”
“Dae ye hae a headcount?” Agatha said.
The rider nodded. “Thirty men strong.”
“How far away are they?” Eamon added.
“Five hours, I think. Perhaps less. They were in the midst of coordinating when I began me journey back.”
Connor nodded. “We hae some time afore they arrive.” He looked at Gavina. “They will probably come by day break. Are the fighters in place?”
Gavina nodded. “Aye. They are ready. Now, it just a matter of waiting…”
Knowing that there were no further preparations tae be made, Eamon, knowing that a minor dulling of the senses might assist them in garnering the courage tae fight, ordered one of his men to fetch a jug of ale from the tavern. The man returned, and Gavina, Eamon, and Connor once again sat on Finlay’s rooftop as they passed around the mug and sipped.
“A fine ale,” Connor said. “Who brews the liquor in this village?”
Eamon forked a thumb over his shoulder. “Rose, actually. She is quite good at it.”, Connor said.
Eamon showcased a smile. “Ye are saying that ye fancy me sister?”
Connor held up his hands. “Naw, nae a thing like that. I just…” He couldn’t help himself but smile.
Gavina laughed. “Dinnae fret, Connor. She is a fine woman. I hae seen a few glances she has tossed yer way.”
Connor took the jug and held it up. “This is foolish talk assisted by liquor,” he said. “Nae a thing mair.”
Eamon looked over his shoulder, scouring the ground for signs of Rose. After a few moments of looking, he spotted her near her cottage, her eyes held level on the rooftop. Rose made eye contact with her brother and winked, and moments later, Eamon said to Connor: “I think ye should gae and tell her.”
Connor squinted. “Tell her what?”
“Of how good her ale is.”
Connor looked away, somewhat bashful. “I just—”
“Connor,” Gavina interjected, “life is short. Who kens of the next opportunity ye may hae tae talk tae a woman after tonight. I dinnae want tae sound dire, but we are in fer the fight of our lives. Just gae and tell her how fine her ale is. What harm could come of that?”
Hiding a smirk, Connor took one more swig of ale and descended the ladder to ground level. He wandered over to Rose, Rose smiling as he walked up to her and hung his head. “Ms. Rose,” he said.
She waved her hand through the air. “Rose is fine, Mr. Connor.”
“Well, Connor is fine as well.”
The two laughed.
“I just…” Connor began, mustering the courage to find the words to compliment her, “wanted tae credit ye fer yer ale-making skills. It is quite good.”
Rose crossed her arms, a playful glint in her eye. “I trust that me brother and me aunt sent ye here tae compliment me. Aye?”
A bashful look overcame Connor. “Aye,” he said. “It is possible.”
Rose shrugged. “I dinnae mind it. Tell me—are ye married?”
Connor shook his head. “Nae fer a long time, Rose. Again, I think the drink is what inspired me tae come speak tae ye. It sounds so foolish. We hae never exchanged mair than a couple of words, ye and I.”
“There has been a lot transpiring. We hae been quite busy.”
Conn
or took a step forward. “Am I being tae bold?”
Rose shook her head. “Nae in the slightest. Dire times are ahead. I think we are all feeling a quite bit bold at the moment.”
Connor pointed. “How is it,” he said, “that a woman as strong and as beautiful as ye are nae married?”
Rose laughed. “The drink has offered ye a significant amount of confidence.”
“I am sorry.”
“Again, dinnae be sorry. As we said afore: life is short, perhaps shorter than we care tae admit after tonight’s events.”
Connor bit his lip. He was influenced by the drink, yes. But he had always cast a look or two in Rose’s direction since his arrival at the village. “I am bad at this,” he said.
“Bad at what?” Rose asked.
“At speaking tae women.”
“Ye were married. Clearly ye hae some skills.”
Connor shook his head. “I was nae that great at speaking with her either. Me wife was the talkative one. She could speak on many subjects fer hours on end.”
“Ye dinnae give yerself enough credit, I think.”
A pause, both of them looking into each other’s eyes, both of them feeling that proverbial sense that the world was about to end, and being bold was a matter of the utmost importance in times such as these.
“Can I ask ye something?” Connor said.
Rose smirked. “I think we are well past the point of pleasantries, Highlander.”
Connor took a beat, rubbing his hands together, still mustering the courage to say more. “When all of this is over,” he said, “perhaps…perhaps ye would like tae take a ride with me?”
Rose squinted. “Take a ride with ye?”
“Aye. Just a leisurely ride. Ye and I. Get tae ken each other a bit mair?”
Rose bit her lip, flattered and looking away as she tried to hide the fact that she was blushing. “I hae a better idea.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye,” she said, taking a step forward and pressing her finger into Connor’s chest. “When this is over, when we make it through the other side in tact—I will buy ye a drink.”
Connor tilted his head. “Ye dinnae wish tae take a ride with me?”
Rose shook her head. “Naw. That is tae conventional. And I am nae a conventional woman.”
Connor smiled.
Rose smiled.
“Aye,” Connor said. “A drink it is.”
Rose nodded over Connor’s shoulder to the rooftop. “Then gae and win this fight so we can make it happen, Connor.”
Connor bowed politely and began to move backward. “I shall,” he said with smile as he made his exit and ascended the ladder leading back to the rooftop.
Gavina and Eamon, having eavesdropped on the entire conversation, did their best to hide their smiles.
“Sounds like it went well,” Gavina said.
Eamon and Gavina exchanged a light laugh as Connor hid a smile. “Shut it, noo,” he said. We hae mair important things tae focus on.”
A beat of silence held sway.
“Ye ken,” Gavina said, “that ye and Rose would hae quite handsome children—”
“I said shut it,” Connor said through a stifled laugh, the trio enjoying the brief moment of levity as they shared the last remnants of the jug and awaited the arrival of the Hands of God.
Simon’s men, thirty strong now, were in the midst of loading their supplies onto their horses and preparing to ride out. Simon, watching on as the village they had just burned down was in the final stages of turning into ashes, looking forlornly off into the distance. He was thinking of his wife, thinking of his child, still dwelling on the words that Eamon had spoken to him about them both being still alive.
Simon looked around at his men. He spotted one of them, a man named George, a man who used to be a knight serving the same Lord as Simon had, helping aid the other men in loading their supplies. Be it a moment of vulnerability or the general sense of fatigue he had been feeling, Simon whistled and ordered George to come over.
“Yes, Simon?” George said.
“I wish to speak to you,” Simon said. “But I need to speak to you in confidence.”
George wandered away from the rest of the men with Simon to the outskirts of the village. “What is it?” he asked.
It took Simon a moment to find the words. “Do you remember,” he said, “about your life before we started the Hands of God?”
George looked away. “Yes…I do. But it was a long time ago.”
Simon drew a breath. “There is something I must tell you, but I tell you this in the greatest of confidence. I trust you will keep what I tell you to yourself.”
George nodded. “Of course.”
Simon took a moment to draw a breath and speak: “It is possible,” he said, “that my wife and child are still alive.”
George held his breath—he was not sure how to reply.
“It may not be true,” Simon said, “but it is what Eamon Baird told me. It is why I want him alive. The men are on edge right now after the past few days. I understand it completely. But it is important that I take Eamon Baird alive to discover if what he said is true. I tell you this because I hope I can rely on your support.”
George nodded, his own past and deceased family running through his mind. “You can count on me, Simon. I would do the same thing if I were in your position.”
Simon held his head high. “Good…then the time has come to disembark. We must make our leave now. We must finish what we have started.”
Simon then ordered his men to move, all of them mounting their horses and riding to the west, ready to burn the Baird’s village to the ground and finally complete their campaign that had been fighting for so long to finish.
Chapter 34
Eamon looked at the stars and judged that two hours had passed. They still had some time before Simon and the Hands of God arrived. “We should all rest in shifts,” he said to Gavina. “Each of us should take an hour tae recoup our energy.”
Gavina gestured to the ladder. “Take the first hour,” she said. “Connor and I will stay up here.”
“Are ye sure?”
“Gae, nephew. Be with yer love. Take the time.”
Eamon squeezed Gavina on the shoulder before descending the ladder to ground level. He wandered over to Rose’s cottage, Agatha asleep in the bedroom with a sword waiting by her side. Eamon cozied up slowly beside Agatha, seating himself quietly on the edge of the bed as he watched her sleep.
He worried for her fate, for his own, for his family, for the entire safety of the village. He closed his eyes, trying to recall how long and how often he had been troubled by such fears. It seemed that his entire life he had been focused on the turmoil, on the struggle, of the endless fighting that always seemed to rear its head the moment they thought that peace had been achieved.
“Eamon,” Agatha said wearily, awakening from her slumber.
Eamon forced a smile. “Hello, me love.”
“Is all well? Has Simon arrived?”
Eamon shook his head. “Nae yet. We still wait fer his arrival.”
Agatha sighed. “I feel like I have been asleep for an eternity.”
“We are all exhausted. It is naw surprise.”
Agatha sat up, taking Eamon’s hand into her own. “I was thinking,” she said.
“Aboot what?”
“About our future. About what we will do once this is all over.”
Eamon shifted his weight. “What does it look like tae ye?”
Agatha smiled. “I saw us married. I saw us living in peace with a couple of children at our side.”
Eamon looked away, fearful and elated all at the same time.
“I am sorry,” Agatha said.
“Fer what?” Eamon inquired.
“For putting that on you. I know that you have a past. I know that you were married before, that you had a child that was on its way. Sometimes, I feel like I am pressuring you to do something that you are not ready for.”<
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Eamon shook his head. “It is nae that, me love. It has taken me awhile tae come around and understand that I hae many good things in me life. I am…”
“What, my love? What is it?”
Eamon shrugged. “I am just scared of losing it, is all. I fear, noo that I hae found something so wonderful, that I will lose it all over again.”