by Barbara Bard
It was a duty that he would do to the best of his ability, but one that he would much rather be enjoyed by someone else. He thought of Drew and Blair, able to enjoy the respect of the rest of the clan, while he was sitting in the cold hall guarding some Sassenach girl. It wasn't that he hated his cousins, just that he wanted to be with them right now.
He rose, and thought about checking on the prisoner, but he decided that he didn't need to feel her sharp tongue this morning, not with his head in the state it was. She was pretty enough, for a Sassenach girl, and spirited, but she could not hold a candle to a woman like Deirdre.
Just thinking about Deirdre was enough to send Declan into a spin. She was everything a man could want, and he looked forward to seeing her again. Somehow, he would prove to her that he was a man she could be proud of, that he was better than Blair and would give her the life she needed.
He just wasn't sure how to go about it. The rebellion they had been planning against Blair due to his marriage to Rosemary—an English gal—seemed to have died in its infancy when Drew sided with Blair. Deirdre and Old Will thought that Drew was integral to the success, but now that Drew was firmly allied with Blair, there seemed little chance for the two brothers to be broken up.
Declan was quietly relieved. The idea of a rebellion had never sat easily with him, but he still wished to make his cousins see how they had lost their minds.
A full rebellion had always struck Declan as a last resort, and even now it seemed to be too drastic, but he just wanted to get Drew and Blair's attention, to make them see that their actions were wrong.
Although he wanted to leave his post and breathe in the fresh air outside, he was afraid of how Drew might react if he found out he did. Instead, he walked down to the end of the hallway and peered out of the window.
The warriors Blair had summoned from the various clans to fight the English were already departing. Many of them embraced each other, glad to have done battle. They were all amicable now, but Declan had a feeling it was just a matter of time before they were at war with each other again. The petty squabbles over land and other matters often took hold of the Highlanders. Nobody dared attack his father though. Declan hoped that one day he would be treated with as much respect as his father was.
His father, who was Aife’s younger brother had been wounded in the first war, surviving with only one leg and could not participate in the recent battle. Nonetheless, he was regarded as a a living legend in the Highlands. He was at home, in a small hamlet across the valley. Declan wanted to make him proud and live the life of a warrior that had been denied to his father.
Below him, he watched the banners depart one by one, although some still remained, wanting to enjoy the feasting even longer. There were plenty of men, some of whom would surely be unimpressed that Drew and Blair had taken English women to their chambers and treated them as equals.
Now that the battle was over, it was time for old differences to emerge, and perhaps Declan could sway some of them into confronting his cousins. If he could have influence over the McCall clan, it would go a long way to making his father proud.
Then, he could enjoy the same respect as Blair, Drew, and restore the Highlanders to their pure blood and not have to worry about the enemy lurking within the camp.
Staring back at the door, Drew rested his hand on his blade. He had to be patient and wait. There was plenty of time for him to achieve all he wanted to. He was younger than his cousins and he had strength, and that was all the advantage he ever needed to make things work in his favor.
Declan returned to his post, waiting all morning for someone to arrive and relieve him, but nobody came. He was unable to slake his thirst, and his stomach was beginning to rumble. All morning long he paced up and down the hallway. More than a few hours had passed since he had risen and by that point he had enough of it. He was not going to be forgotten in this manner, and since this Catherine was locked up nice and tightly he saw no harm in leaving to go and get some food.
Now that some time had passed, Declan had a calmer mind, and a fresher way of looking at things. His mood the previous night had been influenced by the alcohol, and he was a little ashamed of how he had acted towards his prisoner.
For a man his age, 25, he was going through the throes of maturity, forged by the war. He had been thrust into a battle that transformed his mind and made him see things he had never seen before. He was changing, that much he could tell. Yet, he was so unsure of who he was changing into.
But he wanted so badly to be around all the other Highlanders. It felt as though the world was passing him by, and he wasn't sure how to go about changing that. All he wanted was to be engaged in the process. So much was changing, and he wasn't sure if he could adapt to the new order that Drew and Blair seemed to be implementing.
Walking through the castle, Declan kept an eye out for Drew or Blair, but saw no sign of them. He continued outside, his stomach giving him trouble. He could hear the noise from his post and wanted to be a part of it, so he went out and got some meat to fill his belly.
Looking around, Declan gazed in awe at the hardened warriors around him. In the midst of the warriors, he thought himself a boy. The sight of them filled him with a deep respect. He longed to be a part of them, to be looked upon with the same respect as they looked at each other. Women emerged from their tents as well, looking tousled and rough.
Declan blushed at the sight of them, especially when they smiled at him.
Declan heard snippets of conversation as he made his way through the camp, wanting to soak in as much as possible before all the clans left. As he moved, he held his tongue, cowed by the reputation of all the older warriors, but when he heard one conversation, he could not remain silent.
An older man with a thick black beard was heralding the feats of Drew against Lord Flynn. The man's bald head gleamed under the morning sun, and his words carried on the air.
“Never hae there been such a display of sheer power than in that battle. I was with Drew every step of the way, watching how he feinted and drew that Sassenach bastard in, then the killing blow!” he thrust a fist into the air and laughed uproariously. The others around him joined in.
Declan rolled his eyes, for he had heard plenty about this fight already. Seeing Drew in battle had been a privilege, but Declan wished that he was spoken about in such a manner. “Drew wasn’t that impressive,” He muttered under his breath.
“What was that, lad?” The man asked. Drew froze. He didn't think anyone had been paying him attention, so it took him by surprise to be challenged like this.
“Well, gae on? What did ye mean? Dae ye nae think that Drew was mighty?”
“Oh, my cousin did indeed show a great deal of bravery against Lord Flynn, but dinnae ye think ye are giving him a wee bit tae much credit? He is just a man after all, and from what I saw he wasn't always in control.”
“Are ye praising the Sassenach?”
“Nay! I would never! But I would nae be so quick tae believe that Drew is the only good swordsman. I'm sure that I could have beaten Lord Flynn if I was given the chance, and I am only sorry that the battle ended so quickly. I was waiting to fight side by side with my cousins.”
The man looked at him, then laughed. Declan's cheeks darkened. “Who are ye to show me such dishonor?” He said in a terse voice.
“They call me Mont,” The big man said, his rumbling baritone powerful enough to shake the ground. “And I dinnae mean tae show ye disrespect, but ye get what ye give in this world, and ye seem quick to speak against yer cousin.”
“Nay, I love my cousin, and I am proud of him, I only wish that I had been given the chance tae prove myself in battle against the Sassenach villain,” Declan said. The debate had gathered a little attention among the people around him, and Mont seemed amused by the steel that Declan was showing.
“Ye think ye would be able tae best Lord Flynn? Even though he was Sassenach I hae to give him respect. He was blessed with talent, which makes Drew's vi
ctory all the more impressive. Dae ye think ye could even win while suffering the same wound as Drew?”
“I was fighting in that battle for as long as I could! If Drew had nae returned I would hae taken up the fight for him. I would hae done my cousin proud.”
Mont laughed. “Did ye see the same duel as I? Flynn's blade slashed as quickly as a whip. Why, I believe Drew is the best swordsman this land has seen since the Blue Thistle. And as much as I admire yer enthusiasm I would nae like tae see a pup like ye gae up against a swordsman like the Sassenachman.”
“The who?” Declan asked. Mont looked at him with astonishment.
“Have ye nae heard of the Blue Thistle? What are we teaching the wee lads and lasses?” he said, looking around. The other people chuckled softly. “I'm just about on my last legs. Come back later and I'll give ye a tale for the ages,” he promised.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Mont said, and looked up. The others around them gasped. Declan looked around, and saw Drew storming towards him.
“What are ye daeing here, Declan? I told ye tae guard Catherine,” He thundered, his face a picture of anger. Declan groaned inwardly.
“I was hungry, cousin! I only came down here tae eat. She is locked up, there is nae danger of her escaping. I left the key by the door,” he said.
“Ye hae tae take yer duties seriously, Declan. Stay here if ye like, but it may be best for ye tae gae on home and be with yer father. Ye hae been through a lot. We love having ye here, but we would understand if ye wanted tae return home,” Drew said, his anger diminishing.
Drew turned and made his way back to the castle, leaving Declan with a festering shame inside. Declan wished that he could do something to make his cousins proud of him, to ensure that his name would be spoken in the same breath as the rest of the McCall. Drew and Blair cast long shadows. All Declan wanted was to live up to their reputations.
Chapter 3
Catherine awoke with an aching back. Immediately, she threw off the scratchy blanket and stretched out her body, feeling her joints click as she did so. She almost hoped that this entire episode had been a nightmare and she would awaken to find herself back in her comfortable bed at home, waking up to the smell of lavender instead of the dank, damp smell of this Highland castle.
The sun streamed in through the narrow window, offering a dim light. Catherine's plight hadn't seemed to change any. She walked around the room and listened at the door. There were no sounds. She called out, but there was no answer, and there didn't seem to be any food either.
Had they forgotten about her? Was this how her life was going to end, being starved in a tower?
Walking to the window, she peered out again. The land looked different in the daylight, but no less fearsome. Terrible thoughts played on her mind about the beasts that must lurk deeper north, waiting to strike. A shadow lay across the land, the valleys and hills looking mysterious. It was an uncivilized, wild land, much like the people who inhabited it. A far cry from the home she was used to, and the longing in her heart was fierce.
At that moment Catherine was uncertain if she would be alive long enough to see her home again, and for all its faults she realized how much she missed it. What she wouldn't give now to be married to some old duke if it meant that she was safe. Anything was better than being here.
She looked down to see if she had misjudged the drop the previous night. She pushed her arms through the window, and decided that if she pushed herself enough she could wriggle through and escape to the open air. She'd be left with a few bruises on her body, but the main difficulty was that there was nothing to climb to. The tower was a sheer drop, and the castle wasn't even like the castles she had been used to seeing in England. If there had been a moat she might take her chances, knowing that the water could break her fall, but if she jumped from this tower there would be no chance of her surviving.
Still, it would prove to be a good last resort if she was left with no other option. The thought of death was more appealing to her than being held captive here, being at the mercy of the Highlanders.
“Catherine!” Sarah shouted from the other side of the door, thumping wildly. “Catherine, are you in there?”
For a moment, Catherine was tempted to ignore the call. This woman had lied to her, deceived her, and it was hard enough for Catherine to remember that her name was in fact Sarah and not Rosemary. However, she also knew that she did not have a hope of escaping on her own, and that she would need Sarah's help. Furthermore, Catherine had questions that needed to be answered.
“I am indeed. Is it your doing that I am in this cell?” She asked bitterly.
“Cell? Catherine, I tried to get Drew to move you to somewhere more comfortable. I hated the thought of you in that cell outside. You are not a prisoner here. I want you to feel like you are a guest.”
“Is that why you have locked me in this empty room with nothing but a prickly blanket?”
“Catherine, that is just the type of room the Highlanders prefer. You'll find that life is far different from what you are used to. This is ridiculous. Let me see if-ah!”
Catherine heard Sarah reach out and pick up a key that must have been hanging by the door. At least the guard had left her that small courtesy, so she was not locked in here without hope. Sarah opened the door. Catherine turned her back and retreated to the bed. There was still much distance between them.
“I am finding that already.”
“But that doesn't mean it will be any less rewarding.”
“I shall be the judge of that, Sarah, or do you have another name today?” Catherine knew her words were harsh, but at the moment the only weapon she had was her sharp tongue, and she was going to use it to its full ability, even though she could almost sense how hurt Sarah was.
Despite everything, the two of them had formed a strong bond during Sarah's stay, and even though Catherine doubted how much of it was true, some of it was undeniable. Catherine had never had a best friend before, and that was why this betrayal hurt so much, but she wanted to believe that at least some of it was real, if only so that she could say there was a time when she had a true friend.
“I used another name, but the girl you spent so much time with was me. I am not lying when I tell you that. I wish I could make you see...there is so much that I want to say, but I cannot do it through this door. Where is your guard?”
“I do not know, but I agree with you. We do have much to discuss.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No, I have not. In fact, I have not been given anything. You say that I am a guest, but I do not feel like one. I am being held in this room, locked against my will, given no comforts whatsoever. You may believe you were acting in my best interests by bringing me here, but I do not see how you can justify your actions.”
So much of her life had been spent dependent on somebody else. Her father and Harold had always had her life planned out, and now she was living at the whim of Sarah, even though she was said to be free.
How free, she wondered. Would she be allowed to leave if she expressed the desire? She had been bandied over as a pawn of peace, supposedly for her own good. Well, nobody had actually bothered asking her what she wanted. What right did Sarah have to tear her away from her home and bring her to this forsaken place, where she would have to live out her days among brutes and enemies?
Their conversation was interrupted by Drew, the man that Sarah had fallen in love with. Sarah excused herself and walked out of the doorway. Catherine dipped her head, but turned her ear towards their conversation.
“...worried about him. I will have tae keep a close eye on him. Is there anything ye need?” Drew asked. Sarah shook her head. Catherine averted her gaze from the Highlander. He looked like a giant when standing next to Sarah. His muscles bulged, and his face was swarthy.
Drew looked at Catherine, eyeing her up and down. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her. She didn’t like the sensation of having such a brutish man look at her as though she was
just a common girl.
To her relief, he left promptly and the two women were left together. Sarah had brought a tray with her. There was a bowl filled with a thick broth, and a jug of water.
“I thought you might need some hospitality,” Sarah said, placing the tray on the bed. She perched herself on one end, and waited for Catherine to sit at the other.
Catherine wanted to ignore Sarah and give her the full force of her icy exterior, but her stomach was hungry and her throat was crying out for some water. Slowly, she moved across to the bed and sat as far away from Sarah as she could.
Catherine first took a mug of water and sipped it carefully, not wanting to appear a glutton. Manners had been bred into her too much for her to appear like a mindless commoner, and in this castle it was important for her to maintain her dignity and composure. Then, she brought the bowl in front of her and took hold of the spoon. The broth was thick, filled with chunks of meat and vegetables. It was heavy on her stomach, but filled her up quickly, yet all the while she ate she did not look at Sarah.