by Tara Hill
The gate opened into a narrow alley with high walls and no windows. No one could see us as we picked up speed and I could hear no sound of pursuit. At the end of the alley Max again opened a door with a high threshold. I tripped as we went over the threshold pulling Max down. He slapped me with his free hand as he yanked me up.
“You’re not leaving my side quite yet, I have plans for you.”
Max obviously knew the layout of the chapel and gardens, as many doors opened off to one side or the other down the hallway. We entered another narrow, dark stairwell. What was it with Max always wanting to go up narrow dark stairwells? I was quite tired of being dragged around and forced up spiraling stairs. I knew this tower; I knew this stairway as I thought furiously how to escape from Max yet again. I had grown tired of Max and his insane giggle but still feared him and feared what he planned for Ian.
Max's shirt was covered with dried blood; perhaps I had damaged him in his fall at Caeverlock after all. We finally left the stairwell. He pushed me hard through the door way. I stumbled and fell forward. He grabbed me back up against his chest. I aimed my elbow into the wound on his side. He made a gagging sound and pushed me away from him. Max was panting hard, I thought to attack again. I refrained after noticing the much longer knife that he now held in his hand. I guessed I wouldn't win that encounter.
Max and I stared at each other for quite a while. His panting slowed while his wound continued to bleed. I imagined him weakening, but the knife glinting in the sun kept me at bay.
“Are you waiting for Ian? You think he's going to come after you yet again?” I asked.
“I know he will,” Max stated.
“I think he may wait this one out, we have to come down sometime.”
“I can make it happen faster,” he said pointing his knife at the edge of the parapet.
I slid to the floor never removing my eyes his knife.
“On the other hand, we can wait for Ian here.” I offered and so we waited. We listened to the breeze, the occasional bird but no thundering steps, no shouts of outrage from the open doorway.
I sighed. Nobody will rescue me; I will have to figure it out for myself. “No one seems to be charging up here. What are you planning? How do you think you can leave the castle?”
“I can hold you in front of me as a shield. It worked before.”
“Why are you doing this? It's over. The Frenchmen are never going to go with you. They know you lied to them. They know this is nothing but a slaughter, planned by you. It’s over.”
“No, my dear, it's not. If I can't get the families back to France and killed, while then, my dear, I have other plans. I can get my people to convince London these people are dangerous and must be thrown out of the country. I can arrange for their ships to sink in the Irish Sea. I can get the McBain land confiscated for the crown. He is a traitor after all, your Ian.”
“You think you are so powerful?” Max glared at me as his chest continued to heave. “You think you still have all that power? I doubt it. Ian slaughtered your men in the reeds. I killed your spy myself. I buried him in the woods.” His eyes changed for a brief moment, so fast I thought I'd imagined it. I’d surprised him.
“I did not miss him.” Max attempted to recover. “He was not important.”
“But the dispatches were.”
“You read those? That was how he knew.”
“Yes, that's how we knew, before you even got to the town, your plan was ruined. I translated the documents and we found the Frenchmen and their families and we kept them safe.”
Max looked over the low wall, no sounds of pursuit rose up to us. I watched him move from the parapet, the sunlight catching on the knife blade. I stared at that knife, it didn't get any smaller. I tried again to reason with Max.
“You're done, you’re finished here.” Max strode over to me picking me up and backing me against the low wall.
“I'll be done but that will be after your death. I’ll be done after Ian watches you die.” Max sneered.
“No” I screamed at Max as he raised the knife to my throat.
“No” Ian roared as he burst through the door.
Max shoved me against parapet and I struggled to regain my balance. I shoved back with all my might and added an ill placed kick at Max. It wasn't much but it did get him away from me for a moment. It was all Ian needed to close the space between himself and Max. I edged around behind Max while keeping an eye on Ian. Ian had the longer reach with his sword but Max was fighting for his life and drew upon a desperate need to win. He also landed a few blows. Ian's shirt was torn, blood dripped from a scratch down his wrist. I could hear the shouts of my brothers coming from the stairs. This was the second time these two had fought today. Something was different this time. Max was fighting for his life but my Ian was fighting for something too. Slowly it dawned on me, he was fighting for me, and therefore, he was fighting for us. I watched the blood stain grow on Ian's arm. I decided Ian was not in this fight alone. I kept maneuvering myself to stay behind Max. He slashed the air and I pushed away from the wall putting my whole body weight into this mad rush. I crashed into Max. He lost his balance and fell into Ian. Ian thrust upwards with his knife. A gurgling sound came from Max as he slid off the knife and onto the floor.
Ian stood panting over his body his face stone, his eyes cold.
He looked over at me, “You did not need to do that, my dear, I had him where I wanted him.”
“Is that so?” I asked, “Did you want a knife in your belly too, because that's where it was headed.”
We stared at each other, breathing heavily.
“Is that your blood?” Ian asked gesturing at me with the sword.
I didn’t need to see myself to know that I was covered with gore, very little of it mine.
“Some of it may be. More of it is his.”
Ian stood staring at me shaking his head as my brothers burst through the door. Robert was the first one through. He stood still as he took in the scene. He walked toward me kicking Max as he went by.
“Did you do it right this time, McBain?” he asked.
“Aye, that I did with the help of your sister”.
“Quite something isn’t she?” My brother asked.
And Robert looked at me with critical eye, “How much of that blood is yours?”
“I'm telling you the same thing I told the big oaf, a bit of its mine, most of it is his,” I pointed at the late Max, “I want to go home and take care of this and take care of my Ian.”
“Your Ian?” Three sets of brothers’ eyes suddenly focused intently at me.
“Aye, Robert, my Ian. He's the only one I'll be marrying.”
Ian smiled down at me. “I am?” He gently wiped some grime from my face. We were lost in each other until my brother cleared his throat.
I stepped toward my brother.
“I'm sorry you wanted the money and the new roof my virginity would bring. I don't care if it's not the laird I'll be marrying. I can't go through with the wedding, Robert. I don't want this. Not anymore. I am not a thing to be bought and sold. I don't belong to you. I am my own person; I want to have a choice in my future. I want to know love, true love. It's Ian I want and only Ian.” I turned to Ian and continued, “Now find someone else to marry that wee lass you described to me in the bath.”
“He was with you in a bath?” Robert hollered and again he pointed his sword at Ian.
“Which wee lass?” Asked the giant.
I parted my way through the six men gathered on the tower floor, past the giant, and the man I intended to marry. I put my hands on the door frame and turned over my shoulder to say, “Ian, maybe I'll help you a bit with the smuggling and buy my brothers a new roof. But, I am not marrying him.” I pointed at the giant. I ducked into the dark stairwell and heard Robert send the youngest, James, with me.
James chattered of how berserk Ian became when Max dragged me out. I smiled a secret smile in my heart. He also shared the argument between Ian and Ro
bert. He shared that each man berated the other for my behavior, my recklessness and my injuries. Somehow a little bit of my blood seemed to send each of these men quite over the edge. We exited the stairwell and I went in search of my sister Alice. I needed to prepare for a wedding tomorrow. I only hoped it would be to the right man.
~~~~~
Sometime later Alice helped me from a warm bath and wrapped me in clean linen. She arranged for our dinner to be brought to our chamber and we spoke long into the night. She wisely ordered a large bottle of fine wine. I told her everything, the camping and hunting, the soldiers, my illness and the whole thing in the bath. The wine loosened our normal restraints as we talked about men and women. She asked more than a few questions about the bath and decided she would get her husband to have one built in their home. I had no idea my sister had such lusty ideas. Perhaps there was more to marriage than I knew about and more importantly maybe I wasn't a sinner but just a normal young woman in love.
We dried my hair by the fire with Alice brushing and somewhat calming the riot of curls. It would have to do. At least I’d gotten the bits of leaves and dried blood out of it. I finally climbed into the huge bed and slept. I woke with a clear head but was stiff with pain. My bruises stood out on my pale neck and arms. The newer scratches from the rose bushes stung. I looked lovely for a bride if lovely included purple and black bruises and rivulets of blood oozing down one’s arm. Alice brought a suitable dress and we got it arranged correctly. She continued to work on my hair but we decided to leave it long as it hid more of my wounds. At a knock on my door, Alice and I rose. Charles was ready to escort us to the chapel.
“Is Ian going to be here?” I asked Charles tugging at his arm.
“Ian and Robert talked long into the night.” he offered.
“To what outcome? Do I get my Ian?”
“Perhaps I misspoke. Ian and Robert yelled at each other long into the night.”
“Oh dear, so who is the groom?” I pleaded.
Charles silently led us to the back door of the vestry, the same room I had exited in such haste yesterday.
“Bridget, you wait here. Alice, you may go sit with your husband in the chapel.” Charles patted my head as if I was a sad old dog and ushered Alice out the door.
“It had better be Ian.” I shouted at the closed door. This did not feel quite right so I planted myself in a chair. A knock sounded on the chapel door and the priest told me it was time to come out.
“I am not coming out there. I told you I deserve to make my own choices.”
“It's your wedding, Lady Bridget.”
“To whom?”
“To Lord McBain's son, of course.” I heard people conspiring outside the door. “You'll come out of there and marry me,” someone hissed.
The door to the sanctuary opened a wee bit and I hissed right back, “You can't come in here.”
“Yes I can, I’m the groom, Lord McBain's son.”
“I don't care who you are. You can’t have me. I won’t let you touch me.”
“That's not proper talk for a church, lass,” the voice whispered.
“Do not begin to lecture me on what's proper. I've been improper for days now. I am going to hell and I don't want to marry you.”
“Your brothers want you to marry me.”
“I am just a property to be traded to them. They just want a new roof over their heads. They want to be rid of me. That is why I have been sold off to the highest bidder.”
The voice gasped and then resumed the hissing again, “There were bidders?”
“Bidders, suitors, it makes very little difference.”
“How many?”
“I don't rightly recall. Some came asking for my hand, others came asking for a stroll or something.”
“Define or something,” the hissing was getting a bit strident.
“The usual, hand holding, then grabbing at me, something with lips.”
“Robert neglected to tell me of these suitors.”
“It makes not one bit of difference as I am not marrying you. I want your estate manager, Ian. I explained very clearly to Robert that I will not marry you, Lord Giant, only your brother.”
“You think Ian is the estate manager and my brother?”
“He may be a by blow of your father's but he is indeed your brother.”
More sounds could be heard from the other side of the door. I heard stomping feet stomp away. I slipped out of my chair and walked softly to the door, quietly opened it and peeked out. All of them were talking again. Ian, the giant and Robert all waving hands and poking each other and whispering at the front of the church. Then I watched Alice come storming up the aisle. She pushed the door completely open, grabbed my arm and marched me to the altar. I looked out at the chapel, full of people, some townspeople and French families I recognized. Ennis and Fergus, with a lovely young woman who must be their Martha, and my family all gazed back at me with happy expressions. Aye, they did want that roof.
I stood in front of the priest and thought furiously how to get out of this marriage.
“Who gives this woman in matrimony?” The priest's clear voice rang out and the congregation quieted. Robert looked up from his argument with Ian and the giant.
“I do.” Robert replied.
I bent my head; Robert was giving me to the wrong man. There was nothing I could do. My family needed me to do the honorable thing and I had to do so even as my heart was breaking. Robert walked up the steps to me and kissed my bent forehead. He placed my hand in a huge callused hand. It was then covered by its huge partner effectively trapping me. He might have my body but he'd never have my heart I swore to myself. The priest continued the ceremony by wrapping a tartan cloth around our hand forever locking me to the McBains. He spoke the phrases and I repeated them. He then turned to my groom.
“Do you Michael Patrick Ian McBain take Elizabeth Bridget to be your wife?”
“I do” Ian stated. I looked up into his eyes and my heart soared. He was here and not the Giant. He was the McBain's heir. I looked for Robert and saw him laughing as he slapped the giant on his back.
“You? You are the McBain?”
“Excuse me,” interjected the priest, “but could we move on?”
We both turned and Ian motioned for him to continue. And then I was married, to the correct groom, in front of my laughing family. As we walked from the church, Ian bent and picked me up.
~~~~~
In his arms we exited the chapel and he deposited me on my beloved Thor. He mounted Bruce and we sped away. I heard the bells ringing in the castle as we headed across the fields, away from my brothers and away from his family. I guessed where we were headed, to our private hideaway in Caerlaverock Castle.
We entered the keep through the same bower of vines to a transformed fairyland. Candles in glass lanterns had been set around on the stone walls waiting for nightfall to be lit. A bower had been erected on the lawn. A fire burned in the fire pit. A table was set with our bridal luncheon and what looked like a real feather bed rested under the canopy.
“Do you need your sisters, lass?”
“No, husband,” I emphasized, “I received some fair advice from Alice last night.”
“And what advice did Alice have to offer.” Ian helped me from my horse and set them both free after removing their saddles.
“I advised her some actually, husband.”
“On what topic, wife.” Ian caught me up and swung me around while planting a hearty kiss on my lips.
“I told her of Roman baths and heated water and such.”
“What did your proper sister think of such sinful activities?”
“She wants to ask her husband to build one for them.”
“She is truly your sister then after all.” Ian laughed and took my hands. He led me to the feather bed. He cupped my face in his hands and gave me the sweetest of kisses. “Why I wouldn't have you as a wife?”
“I feared you thought I was wanton. I thought you were th
e estate manager, I thought the giant was laird. What is his name by the way? We always call him ‘The Giant of the Doom’.” We sat down on the bed.
“His name is Sean and he is my younger brother. He steps in as Lord or Laird when I am needed elsewhere.”
“Why did you holler that there would be no marriage yesterday?” Together we lay back on the bed while Ian started untying my dress.
“I meant no marriage to anyone else. I thought at the time you were some servant lass.”
“You did not!” Ian pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.
“You had me powerfully perplexed. I could not place you at all. You are too well educated and incredibly resourceful and brave. I never dreamed you were the daughter of the Garnets, that they would callously send you off dressed like a boy...” Ian started to get worked up again.
I kissed his broad chest, “I stepped in where family needed me. Tell me about the smuggling.”
“I also step in where family needs me. We have cousins across the water in Ireland, they ship us raw wool illegally of course, and we in turn ship them our ale or rum as it comes in from the Caribbean. We just do it beneath the nose of the crown.” He explained while slipping my bodice off my shoulder.
“Isn't that dangerous?”
“Aye, but it’s a tradition, to thumb our noses at the Crown. We may have to look for other ways to do so as the mills expand.”
“I think you will have to curtail this as your family expands. I don't want my children to be raised fatherless.”
“So you'll be bearing my children now?” Ian teased and started rubbing his thumb over my very taut nipple.
“If you can ever get around to showing me how it’s done.”
And so he did.
~~~~~
Tara Hill Is busy writing her next book. Please visit her at Tarahillbooks.com or email her at [email protected]