by Alisa Adams
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you,” she said as she pressed her head against the deer.
“Come on, let’s get going,” Matthew said impatiently. He stormed back to the carriage while Harold and Sarina walked a little more slowly.
“Thank you for doing as I asked,” Sarina said.
“You’re welcome. Don’t be too hard on Matthew, you know what he’s like when he has a task to complete.”
“I know. He’s as stubborn as a mule,” Sarina said and the two of them enjoyed a shared smile.
“Thomas wanted us to get there as swiftly as possible. Hurry up!” Matthew said, urging Sarina back into the carriage.
“There is no rush brother. The road will be clear. There are no obstacles in our way. We shall arrive on time,” Harold said, trying to appease Matthew.
Matthew’s eyes gleamed. “I hope the roads aren’t too empty,” he said with a wolfish grin. “I want to test myself against some bandits.”
“How could you even suggest such a thing when Sarina is with us?” Harold asked aghast.
“Bandits would never be able to defend themselves against the two of us. Not with our skill. It would be a glorious story to return home with,” Matthew said, already living out the experience.
“Perhaps it is best if I take the reins,” Harold said as he helped Sarina back into the carriage. Sarina hated the idea of encountering bandits on the road. It had been known to happen and merchants often had guards with them to defend their wares against such behavior. She hoped that Matthew would not get his wish. This journey was proving to be difficult enough as it was.
As the carriage pulled away, Sarina gazed toward the deer, which pushed itself to it’s feet and slowly walked away. She was glad that she had managed to help the animal and hoped that it would have a long and fruitful life. As for herself, however, she was afraid that no amount of good deeds would make up for the crime she had been commanded to commit. Thinking back to the future, she wondered if she could ever have a child knowing that she had murdered someone. It didn’t seem fair that such an evil soul could give life after taking it. But the alternative was that she stayed married to Seamus and had the children of a Highlander which seemed equally unpalatable. She had heard stories that Highlander children came out of the body screaming and fighting, little monsters ready to wreak havoc on the world. She shuddered when she thought of giving birth to something like that.
All in all, it was not a relaxing journey. Her mind was plagued with troubled thoughts and even the beautiful sights of the woods were not enough to calm her spirit. She gazed out longingly, looking for any sign of other animals in distress, but she saw none. The woods were peaceful, but they soon emerged on the other side. In truth, there was not much differentiating this land from the Lowlands, but there did seem to be a chillier air, even if it was only a product of her own mind. The hills rose and rolled, in the distance, there were deep valleys and mountains which peppered the horizon. It was a wild country, filled with wild men, and it was to be her new home.
A feeling of trepidation slithered up her spine as they grew closer to their destination. In some way, she had hoped for a miracle to pluck her from her destiny and send her on a new path, one where she was free of her obligations and her duties, one where she was free to choose the path of her life. That did not seem to be her lot in life though. She was bound by the whims of these men, by her brothers and the stranger who was to be her husband and perhaps her victim.
Sarina glanced up toward the ceiling of the carriage. Her luggage jostled together, creating a constant thudding noise. Somewhere in there was the knife that she was supposed to kill Seamus with. She turned her eyes away and closed them, unsure if she could actually go through with it. But if she didn’t, she would be a disappointment to her family and she would be forced to live out the rest of her life imprisoned in the Highlands. All her hopes and dreams of having a loving husband and a wonderful family would be cast aside. The only chance she had now of achieving those things was to become a murderer, but the life of a man, even if he was a Highlander and the cause of so much sorrow to her family, was surely too high a price to pay.
The wagon slowed. The change of tempo interrupted her thoughts and she peered out of the window. The castle loomed ahead and was so impressive that it was the first thing that caught her eye. It was a big block of stone set atop a hill, a powerful fortress. Her eyes drifted down as they sensed movement and she saw black horses approaching.
Instinctive fear spread through her body and she began chewing on her lip. The men riding the horses were all clad in black, their cloaks flowing behind him as the wind caught them.
Bandits.
The carriage came to a halt. “Sarina, stay here,” Matthew said as he jumped to the ground and stood in front of the carriage. Sarina gulped. Without a weapon, she was utterly defenseless, dependent on Harold and Matthew to protect her. The two of them had been practicing with father from a young age, but they had not seen true battle. There were four bandits and she did not like those odds.
“Matthew, can’t we run?” she called out.
“Stay there Sarina. These villains will soon discover their error,” he said with relish in his voice. He drew his sword and walked forward with Harold by his side. Sarina’s younger brother seemed uncertain and all Sarina could do was hope and pray that Matthew’s skill was equal to his ego.
4
Seamus walked through the peaceful castle. The cold stone and the shadows were quiet and offered little in the way of comfort. Much of the happiness and life that had lived in these walls had died with Ciara. Seamus remembered how she used to skip through the halls without a care in the world, always with a smile on her face. In his darkest moments, he was always able to look to her for salvation, but now, he had nobody to turn to. The light inside him had dimmed when she had departed this mortal world and he doubted anything would ever bring it back.
He made his way to a large room that had been converted into his father’s study. It was at the rear of the castle, facing the sun for the majority of the day. The golden light spilled in and filled the room. Particles of dust shimmered as they were caught in the light and Seamus shook his head at the state of the place. Donald was sitting at his desk with papers piled around him and books strewn on the floor. Seamus had to step carefully, daring not to ruin any of his father’s work.
Donald sat hunched at his desk, his thick head of white hair almost glowing in the sun. His arms were thin and the once thick muscles that had bulged in the folds of his arm had long since faded. He was a shadow of the man he used to be, gaunt and weak in his old age and preferring to spend his time with books and manuscripts rather than out riding on horseback. If anyone saw him now, they would find it hard to believe that this man was once the mightiest warrior of all, a man whose mere appearance struck fear into the hearts of anyone who opposed him.
Those days were long behind him though. A severe blow to the head had changed him and Donald had withdrawn from that life. He was enthralled by books now, poring over old tomes for what he said were hidden secrets. The rest of the family was happy enough to let him amuse himself in this endeavor as it kept him out of trouble and thankfully, he hadn’t lost his mind entirely. He was still present and cognizant of what was going on.
“My son! My son, what a joy it is tae see ye,” Donald said, his face lighting up with pride.
“Morning, Da, how are ye feeling taeday?”
“Oh, a wee bit tired, but I cannae complain.”
“Have you been up all night again?” Seamus asked, noticing that the candles were lit even though it was light.
Donald blushed in response.
“What are we gaeing tae dae with ye?”
“I am close, my son, so close! Soon I will hae these secrets and everything will change, but I cannae work taeday.” He slammed the book in front of him shut and a cloud of dust swirled through the air. Donald immediately suffered a coughing fit and waved the dust away.
“Ye dinnae hae tae make a fuss, Da,” Seamus said.
“My son is getting married! What kind of man would I be if I did nae make a fuss?”
“It’s nae the same as before,” Seamus said quietly.
Donald sighed. “It never will be,” he said, his face long and heavy. A moment of silence passed between the two men. “Seamus, I hae tried tae teach ye tae enjoy life while ye can. I thought ye ken, but it seems ye hae nae been listening tae me all these years.”
“I hae always listened tae ye, Da. But it is nae as easy as ye seem tae think.”
“Naething is easy, naething that’s worth anything anyway.” Donald sighed. He arched his neck and stretched his back. An unsettling rhythm of cracks echoed through the study as he craned his old body. “Ye loved Ciara. It’s such a shame what happened tae the lass, but it did happen Seamus and until ye can accept that ye are never gaeing tae be happy.”
“How can I be happy, Da?”
“Because ye are here and it’s what she would hae wanted.” Donald must have noted the doubtful look on Seamus’ face. “Can ye really tell me that she would nae want this for ye? What if ye fates had been reversed? Would ye hae wanted her tae stay in mourning all her life? There are many years left for ye son, ye cannae waste them on tears.”
“I will dae my duty, Father. I will marry this lass and even hae a family, but I dinnae ken if I can let her fill my heart. Sometimes life demands tae much from me.”
“Aye, that it does, but all any man can dae is tae rise up and meet it,” Donald said. “Just promise me ye will open ye heart tae the chance for love. Dae it for me and ye Ma. Us old folks hate the thought of ye living ye life in misery. All we’ve ever wanted is for ye tae be happy.”
“I will dae my best, Da, I promise ye that,” Seamus said earnestly. Donald seemed satisfied by this and declared that it was all he wanted to tell Seamus then he hobbled off to get some breakfast and to see his wife. Seamus was left in the study for a few moments. He leafed through the pages of the books his father had been reading, but it all seemed nonsensical to him, so he spun on his heels and marched out of the room and made his way up to the battlements where he gazed out to the horizon.
The morning air was fresh and the sky was clear. There was nothing but blue sky for miles and the rolling hills and valleys stretched out to the horizon. In one direction were the Lowlands which led to the dastardly land of the English and in the other the mountain range to the wild north, filled with barbarian tribes and, if legends were to be believed, fearsome monsters.
Ciara had always been one to listen to the legends. Many a time, the two of them had stood in this very position and she regaled him with stories that she had either been passed down from generations or that she had made up completely. He pressed his hands against the cold stone, feeling the hard edges against his palm, and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes and could almost feel her there beside him, wearing her simple clothes with a single silver necklace adorning her neck. Her skin would be milky and smooth, her eyes wide and sparkling, and a smile would forever be resting on her soft lips.
He recalled a memory of his late wife.
“Seamus,” she had said, “did ye ever hear of the creature in the mountains?”
“What creature my love?” Seamus replied, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, anticipating another interesting tale from her wild imagination.
“A dragon,” she whispered, her eyes growing wider. “It’s said that a long time ago a dragon used tae roam these skies and his home was in the mountains, deep down, farther than any of us hae ever gone.”
“And what happened tae this dragon? Was the beast slain by a mighty hero?”
“Nae a mighty hero, but a wily one. He was a small man and his name hae been lost tae time, but it is said ye would nae think anything of him if ye looked at him. The villages were tired of being pillaged and hunted by this dragon. They lived in fear and this alchemist came tae them and told them he could help. None of them believed him, but he promised them the dragon would nae bother them again.”
“And what did the alchemist get from this? It was a risk tae take on the dragon.”
“Aye, that it was and the price was a big one. He wanted the prettiest girl in the village for his wife and a portion of everyone’s gold. The people were so desperate and scared that they agreed, although I think many of them did nae believe he would be able tae dae it anyway, so they were nae afraid of losing their wealth. The alchemist walked to the mountains alone and none of the people ever expected tae see him again. They thought he was a fool, marching tae certain death.
But the alchemist had a plan. He crept intae the dragon’s lair, using one of his potions to mask his scent. Then, he waited until the dragon was asleep and poured another potion down the dragon’s mighty jaws. The thick liquid slid down its throat and the dragon was asleep for a thousand years. The alchemist returned tae the village and claimed his prize, the villagers had tae pay it of course, although they made him wait tae make sure that the dragon wasn’t seen. None of them could believe how he did it and he never told anyone except the lass that became his wife.”
“What an interesting little story,” Seamus said.
“And true it is, every word,” Ciara said, placing a hand on her heart, although Seamus doubted that very much. He’d learned early on that when she told a story it was usually something of her own creation and usually was done to make fun of him.
“Those mountains have many legends about them. It’s said that a thousand years ago, a stone from the heavens came crashing down into the mountains and rolled all over the lands creating the valleys and hills that we live in now.”
Ciara had an endless number of stories and the only way Seamus could get her to stop was to steal a kiss from her lips.
A smile formed on his lips and his heart was warmed by the memory. Usually, when he thought of her now, he only remembered her in the last moments of her life, moments which brought him much pain and sorrow. But when he thought of moments like these, he was reminded of how uplifting her presence was and how happy she had made him. He remembered what it was to love.
Donald’s words echoed in his mind. Seamus knew that he couldn’t go through his life miserable. It wasn’t the fate he wanted for himself nor was it fair to the lass that had come all this way to be his wife. He was a Highland warrior, a champion, the leader of the clan, and one who met any challenge that came his way. Yet, it was easier to fight beasts and men than it was to fight the torments of the soul. Whenever he thought of Ciara, he felt a tense knot in his stomach and he was afraid that if he dared even consider the possibility of loving someone else that he was betraying her memory.
But perhaps there was wisdom in his father’s words. Ciara was such a good, kind soul that she never would have wanted him to wallow in bitterness for the rest of his life. Perhaps the only way to pay proper tribute to her was by living his life as best he could. He could almost imagine her now, coming down from up high to pass judgment on his life. She would undoubtedly put her hand to his cheek and tell him that he was making a mistake and should take hold of life with both hands while he had the chance. She always wanted him to be the best version of himself, even if that meant letting her go.
Seamus breathed in deeply, wishing there was an easier way to go about solving the conflict within his soul. There was nothing he could do to bring her back, life was moving ahead whether he liked it or not. There were still many years left to him before he became decrepit like his father and he didn’t plan to waste them. This was a new beginning for him, a new beginning for them all, and it wasn’t befitting of the leader of the clan to be so desolate and despairing. He set the example by which his clan lived and if he wanted them to prosper, he would have to hide his troubles away. Perhaps if he pretended long enough to be happy, he would start believing it himself.
Once the decision was made, Seamus devoted himself to it, lived by it, and would not change his mind. This was his wedd
ing day and he owed it to himself and his new bride to try and enjoy himself. He was just about to end his solace when he heard the sound of footsteps thundering on the stone steps leading to the battlements. Angus appeared, red-faced, with sweat beading on his scalp.
“What troubles ye brother?” Seamus asked, concerned because Angus wasn’t usually one to rush to his side like this unless something very important was happening.
“Bandits,” Angus said in one breath. He handed Seamus a spyglass which Seamus put to his eye and scanned the horizon. He found the path leading to the forest and saw four black dots streaking down toward a carriage. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. There was no doubt that carriage was carrying his English bride for no merchants were expected and few travelers would be coming from that direction.
“We must go,” Seamus said, handing the spyglass back to Angus as he pushed past his brother and descended the stairs. He sprinted down the castle and picked up his weapons on the way. “If my bride is killed before she arrives, the treaty with the English will die with her and I hae nae doubt they will try tae blame me. I dinnae want my wedding tae turn intae a war.”
Word had spread through the castle, but there was no panic. The bandits were never going to be so brash as to attack the castle and the people there had full faith that two mighty warriors like Angus and Seamus would be able to defeat the bandits. The only question in Seamus’ mind was whether they could get there in time to save his bride.
Seamus rode a gray stallion called Shadow, a trusty steed that had survived many battles with him. Seamus never rode any other horse. The two of them shared a unique bond and Shadow sensed the urgency in Seamus’ call. Angus was on his heels and riding his auburn mare Glory, it’s thick mane flowing in the wind. Their hooves pummeled the ground in a fast gallop, the air rushing by as they strove to reach the bandits before Sarina was in danger.