McBain's Bride
Page 11
“Men in the reeds!” I screamed not knowing if anyone could hear me and of course that earned me yet another blow. No one leapt out of the trees in answer to my call. I was alone with the monsters. And the scariest one led me deeper into the ruins, away from freedom.
We clambered over stones and through archways, many still intact. The gray stones had seen many a prisoner, I was sure, and not a few enemies. It was stealthy enemies entering under the cloak of a moonless night that brought the castle down according to Ian. He told me the tale last night under our blankets while we gazed at the stars, a sad tale to be sure. Max yanked on my bruised arm and I gasped again just to make him happy. I seemed to be getting my bearings. We passed through the old kitchens and were heading toward the standing tower. We ducked under a low leaning pillar and entered the turret; stone steps spiraled up in front of us. Max thrust me in front of him and I picked my way through the ruble and began my ascent. I heard the ringing of a blade and hesitated. Max heard it too and slammed me up against the wall. He turned and drew steel. Ian! He stood in the archway at the bottom of the steps. Blood dripping from one arm, and from his sword, I prayed it belonged to the men in the reeds.
“I have something of yours?” Max sneered, “Come to retrieve your slut?”
Ian climbed over the rubble to start up the stairs after us. Max propelled me forward. Ian followed.
“I had such little success with the fire, thanks to this one, she will pay,” Max continued to taunt Ian who followed with no expression on his face save an icy stare. Not one word did he utter. I leapt over the breach in the stairs and turned hoping to see Max fall, but no, like a graceful cat he made the leap and continued up. Ian waited a bit before launching himself over the breach.
“Too slow, smuggler?” Max dared Ian to react. Still nothing from Ian. I made the final turn on the stairs and stepped out into the fresh air onto the lookout. Max followed. We both blinked in the bright sun and then Ian also was with me, blinking at the bright light. His sword held high, he attacked. Max met the blade with a parry but fell back a step. He countered with a low thrust. Ian caught it on his guard, saving his fingers. Ian again raised his sword high and I worried that Max could get under his guard but Max kept his sword high as well. The swords rang across the heights; their boots sounded a staccato dance back and forth across the platform. I ran around behind Max to look over the parapet for reinforcements. No army to be seen. It was only Ian. Come to save me. The swords clashed once more and I turned back to watch. The men strained against each other, Ian taller and stronger. Max bent under Ian’s mighty strength. Max’s arms started to quiver, I knew the end was in sight. Max had no stamina for the fight after fighting me in the saddle, after giving me so many blows, after keeping me hugged up against him while I feigned sleep. He was exhausted while Ian’s strength was steady. I made eye contact with Ian and he gave me only the slightest of nods. I smiled and turned the secret stone opening up the narrow hidden stairs. Ian kicked out at Max who crumpled, his sword skittering across the floor. A second kick and Max tumbled down the hidden stairs. We heard the clatter as he descended, he moaned and then silence. I closed the opening and stood tall, smiling like an idiot at Ian. Sweat poured from his face. His strong arms damp. He sheathed his sword and turned from me. He strode to the doorway. Tears filled my eyes. I wanted his arms around me; I needed his arms around me. He waited for me to follow and as I passed him, he took my hand and brought it up to his lips. His ice blue eyes bored into mine, unreadable, still not a word from him. He kissed my palm so slowly and sweetly. I melted again for this Viking warrior. He let my hand go and gestured for me to head down the stairs.
Our descent was slower and somewhat more careful with none of the joy from this morning. At the base of the tower, Fergus waited. He took my hand and led me out through the ruined castle. We passed the remains of the men in the reeds.
“Do not look, lass. Ian was not gentle with them.” Blood was everywhere, he was not gentle. Ian stomped next to me and then past me. He continued into the woods, never looking back. Fergus led me into the woods on the other side of the old road. The horses whickered at the smell of blood. Fergus assisted me to the saddle and then mounted his horse.
“Ian couldn’t get here fast enough,” he offered.
“And he couldn’t leave fast enough,” I countered.
“He picked up your scarf.”
“And dropped me with his friend.”
“He heard your call in the reeds.”
“And he missed the cry in my heart, Fergus, he said not one word to me. He fought that animal with a ferociousness I had never imagined. I watched him slaughter that man and then opened that trap door. And not one word.”
“I don’t know what he is thinking now; I knew what he was thinking on the road here. Incoherent rage and fear.”
“Fear? I think not.”
“No, Robin, his only thought was to get to you. His only thought,” Fergus emphasized.
I relented a bit, “I knew he would follow, that's why I left my scarf, why I screamed about the men in the reeds. I kept trying to slide off the horse so Max kept hitting me and the whole ride he kept his arms wrapped tight around me, his arms were exhausted, I tried to exhaust his strength.”
“Now girl, don’t think you were responsible for any part of that fight.”
“I did my part for Ian, he knows.”
Fergus laughed; infuriating me.
“Look at me Fergus!” I reined in the horse and yanked down my bodice showing the bruises on my neck, I pulled up my sleeves and showed him my arms. Purpling bruises covered my arms, clear finger marks could be seen on my neck. Fergus gasped “Oh child! We need to get you back to Ennis. When he sees this, Ian is going to murder someone.”
“Too late, he already did.” I muttered. “And I need the big oaf to see me, not these,” I held up a bruised arm. “Why did he stop talking to me? Does he know who I am? Is he disappointed?” my hysteria rose, “He thinks I am a terrible person, a loose woman, a concubine.” I wailed.
Fergus looked sympathetic, if sympathetic included one’s mouth hanging open. He reached over to take my reins and we continued through the woods. We reached the farm lodge where Ennis waited. Gentle hands helped me down and assisted me into the house. The house was much the same as when I left, filled with warm light and delicious aromas. I stumbled up the stairs and into the white washed room that had been mine in my illness. A steaming tub sat before the hearth. Ennis shooed Fergus out before assisting me from my clothes and into the tub. Sweet smelling herbs floated in a little sachet in the hot water relaxing me further. The aches faded the longer I sat in the warm water. I longed to be with Ian in the ancient hot water tub below his lodge. Eventually, Ennis collected me from the tub and tucked me into the little bed. I cared not, the herbs and the warm water, did their work and sent me into a deep dreamless slumber. I had no more dreams, Ian was gone.
~~~~~
A brilliant morning sun streamed through the windows. Ennis thoughtfully left yet another dress of Martha’s, one as blue as Ian’s eyes. No, I told myself, I will not think of his eyes. The bodice of the dress was low, the sleeves, short. I dared not look in a mirror. I dressed and combed my hair, leaving it loose. I picked up a shawl and covered the many bruises and barely healed scabs; I was indeed a mess. I walked down the stairs and outside. As I started across the yard towards the stables, thundering hooves entered the yard. One rider slowed and scooped me up into his arms. The rider wheeled and exited the yard. I was gone from the lodge in a second. No one watched, Ian’s roar was silent as he was not there.
I cried silently in the rider’s arms. My brother cooed softly that all would be well. He had thrown his cloak around me and I sat back against him letting my thoughts roam backwards over the past few days. I didn't want to think about today. Today is my wedding day.
We rode through the birch woods that hugged the coast road. Through the light skinned trunks, the sea sparkled below the cliffs on our l
eft. I gazed out over the water as it moved into and out of my view. Normally the birches made me smile. I loved the silver bark and lovely light green leaves. Today I stared blindly through the trees recounting the moments spent in Ian’s arms, wondering what led to his sudden coldness. He must have found out who I was or decided I was nothing but a harlot.
We rode in silence until we saw the Doom on the heights. The lone tower rose to the sky with pale green vines rising up the sides. The steeple of the church, the site of my upcoming nuptials, rose to meet the cloudless blue sky. The manor house or former castle had been renovated with a new wing that artfully blended styles and displayed the careful and beautiful work of the local stone masons. The overall effect was charming and fanciful. Gardens of well tended roses were interspersed with graceful lawns with paths leading to seating, rock gardens and other buildings. The castle of damp drafts from several years ago looked quite different in the spring. Too bad I no longer wanted to reside here. I had my heart set on a large lodge in the woods.
“Robert, I don't want to marry today.”
“You don't have too, it's tomorrow Bridget.” My brother spoke softly, “I imagine this seems rather overwhelming, guests have been arriving, and your family has been here for days waiting for you to come. You have a great number of questions to answer. And where is that man, the messenger from the McBain.”
“I'm not really sure. He kind of left me at the farmhouse.”
“Alone?”
“No, not at all. Fergus and Ennis attended me; they fed me, clothed me and dosed me with herbal infusions.”
“Why? Are you unwell?” Robert asked.
“I am well. I have so much to tell you.” Robert handed me down to Charles who waited in front of the chapel and together we walked inside.
“We can have some privacy here. Too many people are roaming around the manor, all preparing for tomorrow.”
The small chapel was remarkably tall and sturdy. It was made from the local white washed stone and had a squared tower. Inside belied the plainness of the exterior with rich cherry wood pews, warm and colorful stained glass windows and an altar that reflected the congregation’s dedication to their church and the evangelical movement present in the community. Sunlight illuminated the stained glass window creating rainbows of colors above the altar. My brothers and I sat in the first pew, near the altar and the rainbows. They hugged me and kissed me and then all started speaking at once.
“So you did not keep your hair covered,” the youngest stated. I shook my head no.
“You lost your hat?”
“Aye, but that was not all I lost.”
“I beg your pardon?” Robert boomed. He yanked me around causing the cloak to drop to the floor.
My brothers gasped as my bruises were exposed; the deep purple marks on my arms were Max’s hand prints. His bite marks clearly stood out on my collarbone. Robert gently touched my neck as his voice deepened, “Oh you poor lass. You do have some stories to tell.”
I leaned down, picked up my shawl and re-wrapped it around my shoulders, fighting tears. I looked down and tried to regain my composure to begin my tale.
The doors of the chapel slammed open, two giants strode down the aisle, swords in hand. Robert started down the aisle from the altar followed by all my brothers.
“You!” Robert roared.
I looked over at Ian and the other giant, my intended I assumed. Ian must be the younger brother, not the estate manager as I had thought. Ian stood tall under Robert's glare.
“Are you responsible for the lass’s condition?”
“I am,” Ian stated.
Robert drew his sword, “You did this to her?”
“No, but I am responsible for the lass.”
“No, you are not.” Robert sounded calm, a dangerous sign.
“Well, you certainly aren’t. You let the lass take the place of your son, I assume, ride off with a strange man, unescorted. She could have been ravished.”
“She has been gravely injured under your supposed care,” Robert pointed out.
“She was almost raped.”
“By you?” The sword raised its tip.
“No, by the soldier she shot.” Ian countered.
“You shot a soldier?” My brothers turned as one towards me, “Is it true, did you kill a soldier?”
“He wanted to do unnatural things to my body.” I offered.
“While this man did nothing?” Robert waved his sword in a circle at Ian.
“Not a thing, at least not that time. He killed the next man who wanted my body.”
“How many men wanted your body?” Robert’s voice shook, another very bad sign.
“I don’t have to answer that. It is very impolite of you to ask.”
“Well, it seems pertinent.” James offered.
“I kind of lost count.”
“I’ll kill him.” Robert stated.
“No you won't. I love him.”
“No lass, you don’t, we’ll protect you, he can’t force you anymore.”
“You don’t understand.” I pleaded.
“I do, lass, I truly do. You got taken advantage of, he forced you, he beat you, and convinced you that you deserved it or that only he could protect you, or some such nonsense. I will take you home, and your marriage….”
“There will be no marriage.” Ian roared.
I gasped; my knees buckled and fell to the pew. My fears had been realized. He wouldn't have me, he thought I was not good enough even for him. I was a sinner. I sat and stared at him, tears streaming from my eyes.
“You’ll die, scum, no one makes my sister cry,” some brother yelled.
“Sister?” Ian bellowed turning to point his sword at me.
“This is your sister?” Ian hollered. He whirled back toward the brothers.
“You sent your sister off with a strange man, with ME?” Ian roared beating his chest with his fist.
At that point things sort of got confusing with Ian bellowing and my brothers hollering. All the swords were drawn and kind of waving around. I pulled myself up and backed away from the melee. Ian’s older brother, my fiancé just stood still, separate from the yelling men, studying me. I returned his studious gaze. He stood almost as tall as Ian and somewhat broader. He was the giant from the beach, the smuggler who tossed me over his shoulder. He had probably done the same thing several years before in the castle. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. Ian and Robert were toe to toe, Robert’s finger repeatedly jammed into Ian’s chest. Ian’s sword kept being pointed at me. My brothers clustered around adding to the noise level. I wished I was in bed at the farmhouse; this did not seem to be going well. I feared blood would be drawn, I just did not realize the blood would be mine.
Again.
~~~~~
Backing away from the scene, I prepared to make my escape. If Robert calmed down long enough, he might realize I needed to be murdered or at least locked up. Ian again waved his sword in my direction; however, he still would not look at me.
A scrape behind me caused me to turn. And there he was, Max, bruised and bloody and armed. He looked glad to see me if glad includes yanking my hair and placing a knife against my throat.
My brothers, my brother-in-law and McBains all turned at the sound of my scream. Ian bellowed.
“I thought I killed you.” Ian pointed his sword in our direction.
“You really are inept.” Robert offered.
“I was protecting your sister,” Ian answered.
“You weren't doing a very good job at protecting her, judging by her bruises.”
“She never appreciated all my efforts.”
“How much effort did it take?” Charles asked.
“You're asking me? You must know how difficult she is.” Ian answered.
“Indeed she is. Is that why you are refusing marriage?” James asked, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I'm just saying she won't be marrying any farmer, no, wait. If she's your sister, it's a McBain she wo
uld be marrying.” Ian figured out.
At this point, I was near the entrance with my brothers and Ian at the altar.
“You dolt!” I cried. “You just figured that out?”
Once more I was yanked against a hard broad chest. A chest that smelled bad. I knew who had me, with a knife at my throat. Max. Max pulled me further into the alcove. My brothers and Ian were inching closer to me as they argued over my wedding plans. The knife wavered against my neck pricking me. A small trickle of blood snaked down my neck. “I thought you were dead.” I stated calmly to him. Lord knows I have been in this position before and now I not only had Ian and my fiancé near my side, but three angry brothers as well.
“I am very much afraid there will be no marriage today.” Max sneered. “So the petite wench is just the daughter of farmers and not your whore?” That silenced all of them. In one brief statement, Max managed to insult Ian, my brothers and me.
“He needs killing.” James offered.
“I tried to kill him.” Ian answered.
“You didn’t do a very fine job if it.” James suggested.
“Perhaps Bridget should have done it for you,” another brother chimed in.
“He made the marks on her arms,” Ian stated.
“He’s a dead man,” Robert added.
Max jiggled the knife, blood continued to flow.
“A very dead man,” Ian whispered.
Max backed me out of the chapel into the vestry and kicked the door shut. He threw the bolt home, grabbed my arm and dragged me after him. We ran through the vestry and through a side door into a small garden. I heard my brothers leaving the chapel but they were on the other side of a very tall wall. Max dragged me down the garden path and then through some thorny rose bushes snagging my dress and scratching my arms. I tried to slow him down by digging my heels into the gravel path. But Max was stronger and meaner. He laughed at my cries and kicked open the gate at the bottom of the garden.