by Ruby Duvall
No doubt Iain found her pretty pathetic when, compared to an old woman, she was inept at even the simplest task. He was probably trying to think of a way to get rid of her at that very moment.
—
“How was it?” Kenneth’s voice was directly above him, so the redhead had undoubtedly leaned over the cow to look down at him. Iain frowned, his cheek pressed against the coarse hair of the cow he was milking—far less pleasant than the soft, fragrant hair that had been spilled across his face an hour ago.
“I dinna ken what ye’re talking about,” he evaded. His friend’s light chuckle floated to his ears. Iain’s teeth clenched.
“I saw that ye didna prepare a bed for her—not that we have the straw to spare, anyway,” Kenneth said. Iain grimaced to realize he was right. They wouldn’t have fresh straw for another few days, perhaps even a week. “Did ye sleep on the ground then? She didna let ye, am I right?”
“Would that I could strangle ye.”
The redhead laughed again. “Why so shy? Was it so good that ye wept with pleasure?”
“I am none shy,” Iain insisted even as his cheeks grew warm. “And I dinna weep.”
His brother-in-law ploughed on without really listening. “Or is it shame? Did ye no’ please her?”
“Damn it, Kenneth. Nowt like that happened.”
“So tell me what did happen.” Iain stopped milking the cow and leaned back to look at his brother-in-law’s interested expression.
Without hesitation, he answered, “She cried.” Kenneth’s face fell into disapproval.
“Ye must have scared her. Did ye force her?”
Iain stood, anger bubbling up from his gut. “I did nowt to her. She lay with her back to me and I had to sleep in my clothes.”
Iain watched with disbelief as his friend’s expression morphed from disapproval to anger. “Ye didna comfort her?” Kenneth said.
“Why should I have?” he responded in kind, his voice rising. “If her tears were real, she wouldna ha’ appreciated comfort from me. If they were nae real, the better it was to ignore her.”
“She is alone, scared and relying on strangers—one of whom is an ass,” Kenneth shot back. “Let us hope she thought ye asleep.”
“Why do ye take her side? We ken nowt about her or whence she came. It troubles me that she dinna explain herself. ’Tis even more suspicious that she arrived the verra same morning Duncan and Finian found their herd four heads too few.”
Kenneth threw up his hands. “Did ye no’ think that she would tell us eventually?” He then pointed a finger at him. “Ye were far from indifferent when Aili was openly discussing our lives with her yestereve.”
Iain frowned at that kernel of logic. “If I am to shelter her, I need to know what trouble she might bring with her.”
“She told ye last night all ye needed to know. She is dead to anyone who knows her. None will come looking.”
Iain clenched his hands, the frustration mounting. “How can we believe that she isna lying? How can we trust her?”
The cow between them anxiously stomped its foot, reacting to the anger in their voices. Both men silently glared at each other.
“Ye think last night’s tears were feigned, do ye?” Kenneth said more evenly. “Then think on this. Before supper yestereve, I found her by the river with Puck, sobbing as though her heart had been ripped out. Even the dog was whining in pity. Ye truly have less compassion than an animal.”
“Hey—”
“She nearly jumped out of her skin when she knew she was nae alone. She didna use her tears to gain my sympathy and for that, I only felt the sorrier.” Iain looked away from Kenneth’s scolding expression. Unbidden, the sounds of her muffled weeping filled his head.
“I understand yer distrust after that man came,” Kenneth said quietly.
Iain swallowed hard and changed the subject. “She is the strangest thing I have ever seen. Rachel’s ale is the best in the village but this girl refused to drink any. There’s also that charm ’round her neck, her clothing—”
“Aye, the charm is what interests me,” Kenneth said with a nod. “’Tis a finely made piece. She seems worried whenever she touches it.”
“Do ye think she stole it?” Iain guessed.
His brother-in-law paused for a pensive moment but then shook his head. “No, I ken that she’s afraid to lose it. Perhaps it’s something of her people.”
Iain sighed. “The lass isna a fairy.”
“But she is!” Beth said. Iain turned to his niece but before he could even begin to convince her of the reality, he saw who stood with her. On her left side, Malcolm held a basket of half a dozen eggs in his skinny arms and on her right side stood a ruddy-faced boy in clothing far finer than anything he had ever worn when he was seven years old. “She had wings and a green dress and a bag of magic—”
“Who is she talking about?” Malcolm asked, voice cracking mid-sentence.
Iain didn’t acknowledge Malcolm’s question and instead stalked toward the younger boy. “Colin, what are ye doing out here? Does yer mother ken where ye are?” he scolded. “And where’s yer guardian?”
The young boy frowned and puffed out his chest, taking a step forward. “I came to see my friend and Mama’s asleep and getting fat and her belly is already this big!” He cupped his hands around an invisible stomach that sagged arm’s length from his body. “And she dinna let me go anywhere and Donald is boring!”
Iain closed his eyes as the back of his head began to hurt again. He heard Kenneth step forward. “Young master, ’tis dangerous away from the castle, especially without one of yer father’s leuchd-crios to protect ye. I canna believe Donald is so strict that he wouldna come with ye to visit Beth.”
“I could believe it,” Iain said.
Beth stepped closer to Colin and fisted her hand in the back of his shirt. “I wanted to show him our fairy,” Beth said with a pout. “She’s bonny.”
“Baby, she isna a puppy,” Kenneth said with a shake of his head.
“Can he stay to play, Dada? Please?” the little girl begged.
Kenneth glanced over at Iain and raised his eyebrows. Taking another deep breath, Iain turned and picked up the bucket of fresh milk. “Come on,” he said.
Beth’s face lit up with a smile and she turned to run with Colin down to the house. Kenneth, never far from her side, upped his pace and got well ahead of Iain and Malcolm. The morning mist had nearly lifted but the day would remain overcast, it seemed.
“Did ye take a wife?” Malcolm asked.
“I didna take a damn wife,” Iain answered harshly. Malcolm fell silent and Iain sighed. “I’m doing my Christian duty and being hospitable. Kenneth and my niece have gotten it into their heads that the lass is one of the people of the mounds.”
“Kenneth believes that?” the boy asked. Iain wanted to grin as they approached his home, glad that Malcolm was just as confused by Kenneth’s opinion.
“Ye can decide for yerself.” He waved the boy in.
A delicious scent filled the house. Emma was standing by the table, wiping her hands on her apron and looking at Beth, who was tugging on her skirt. Iain was surprised to see some fatigue under the fairy’s eyes. She had covered her hair with the linen again, so he couldn’t tell how much the pink color had faded now that the light of day was brighter.
“Colin wants to see some magic. Can ye do any magic?” Beth pleaded.
“Why is she no’ wearing her green dress?” Colin asked from where he stood next to Kenneth. “And ye said she had wings.”
“Beth and the young master should quiet down,” Aili said. She used her cane to point at the boy. “What kind o’ manners are those to be talking such to one o’ the good folk? Ye didna even introduce yerself, Colin.”
Kenneth stepped forward to pull his daughter’s fingers away from Emma’s skirt. “Colin is the laird’s son. We hear his mother has another on the way.”
Emma’s eyes widened and she turned toward the young boy, hands
folded in front of her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Mama’s already this big,” he explained, doing the same gesture with his hands. “I want to see some magic.” Kenneth loudly cleared his throat. “Please,” Colin added.
“Magic?” she asked. A crease appeared between her eyebrows.
“This is Malcolm, one of the farmhands,” Iain said. “The other is taking his morning meal with his parents.” Emma looked to him but her eyes quickly flicked away. She smiled at Malcolm and introduced herself.
“Young Malcolm may look like a stick but he eats like a wolf,” Aili said to Emma. “Ye’ll soon see for yerself.” Malcolm nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot and Aili cast her shriveling gaze at Iain. “Emma has far more talent than ye, Iain. Ye really were a disaster with food.” Kenneth laughed but a glare from Iain made the redhead swallow his mirth. Iain then looked to Malcolm, who was staring at Emma. Jostling the boy with a quick shake, he pointed him toward the table.
“Have ye eaten yet, young master?” Aili said to the laird’s son.
Colin shook his head. “I dinna want to get fat like Mama because she says her feet and her back hurt.”
“I can promise that ye will never become fat the same way as yer mother, Colin,” Iain said. As Kenneth and Aili both chuckled, he watched Emma sidle around everyone. She crouched down near the fire, where some fresh honey oatcakes cooked on a griddle. Beth and Colin both followed her.
“I hope these taste good,” she said.
“I’m sure they’re as delicious as supper,” Kenneth said. Beth took a step closer to the fire, her eyes devouring the oatcakes.
“Be careful. Don’t get too close,” Emma said. Beth nodded and stepped back again. With a glance at Kenneth, Iain saw a smile steal over his friend’s face, which made his teeth grind.
“That’s enough then,” Aili announced. “Let’s eat, dear, before the men start drooling.” She cackled good-humoredly as Emma gathered the oatcakes onto a plate and brought them to the table.
The two little ones continued to tail her but Kenneth swung his daughter up into his arms to set her on the bench next to Aili. “I’ll take care of the ale,” he offered, turning to the small keg sitting in the corner.
“Can ye not do any magic then?” Colin asked. Emma looked down at the young boy, worrying her lower lip.
“I’m…not sure I should show you any magic,” she said haltingly.
Colin frowned but not out of anger or sadness. He merely seemed surprised. “Why? Do I answer a riddle first?”
“N-no, it’s just that…” Emma began wringing her hands and Iain could see that she was stalling. He might have felt smug at seeing her trapped but instead he felt as though he should do something to help. He opened his mouth to interrupt when she started, as though something had occurred to her. “All right then but just a little.”
Colin smiled. “Really? Ye’ll show me some magic? What will ye do?” He bombarded her with questions as she walked across the house. Her skirt brushed his leg as she walked by him to fetch her bag from inside the trunk at the end of the bed.
“That’s her bag of magic,” he heard Beth whisper. Emma brought her bag to the table with Colin close on her heels. Setting the bag on a bare spot, she first pulled the long strap out of the way. The top of the bag had a strange seam, almost like two rows of teeth. Iain frowned with apprehension and his frown only deepened when he realized how foolish he was to be nervous.
“Do ye really keep magic in there? It looks like leather. I’ve never seen leather that color. Where did ye get it? Is it from a fairy cow?” Colin’s questions didn’t end until Emma opened the bag, pulling some sort of key across the seam and a strange sound came from within. It sounded almost like the growl of an empty belly.
“Was that me?” Aili asked, pressing her hands to her stomach. Colin’s eyes grew large and round. He crowded close to her and Beth leaned toward Emma’s end of the table, her small hands grasping the edge as she pulled herself down the bench.
Emma’s fingers were poised above the bag as though she were about to conjure something unnatural and then plunged inside. Beth’s small gasp accompanied the sounds of rustling and thumping from inside the bag as Emma dug through its contents. Iain could admit, though only to himself, that his heart quickened with anticipation. When her hand stopped, she looked up at everyone with a smile and brought her hand out of the bag.
What came out was a long white stick. One end had a strange silver knob. Iain’s eyes didn’t look away as she slowly placed her thumb over the knob and pushed it. From the opposite end of the stick, a small point emerged.
“What’s that?” Colin asked.
Emma looked down at Colin and held out her hand. “Give me your hand and I’ll show you what it does.”
“My hand?” he asked. His voice held a touch of anxiety. “What will ye do?”
“It won’t hurt. I promise,” she said. Kenneth was watching their exchange with amusement but Iain failed to see what exactly was so amusing about Emma’s display.
Colin swallowed and set his small hand in Emma’s palm. Iain watched her touch the pointed end of the white stick against the back of the boy’s hand.
As she pulled the stick across his skin, a black line appeared. Colin’s gasp was slow and full of awe. Emma first drew a circle on his skin and then drew a line through it as though cutting a pie in half before drawing two more lines to create two wedges. She finished by blowing gently on the back of his hand.
“Where I come from, this is the symbol for peace,” she said. “The mark will keep you safe but it will wash off in a couple of days.” Colin brought his hand close to his face, eyes wide. His fingers rubbed at the mark but it didn’t smear.
“Colin, can I see?” Beth asked, having pulled herself to the opposite end of the bench from Aili.
“See what?” Aili asked. “Ye ken my weak eyes. What happened?”
“Emma drew a fairy mark on my hand!” Colin said with excitement. He ran around to Emma’s other side in order to show it off to Beth.
“Without any ink?” Aili gasped. “Some kind of fairy quill!”
“I would like you to keep it,” Emma said, offering the stick to Colin. The young heir turned to her, his jaw on the floor.
“Really? I can have yer fairy quill?” Emma smiled at him and nodded. Colin reverently accepted the gift and held it gently. “If I draw the mark, does it work for me too?”
“I’m not sure,” she said and pressed her lips together. “It’s also a kind of weapon though. It’s hard and can pierce, so you have to be careful with it. Keep it safe.”
“Do I have to keep it secret?” the boy asked, holding the quill close to his chest.
“Yes,” Emma said. “Don’t take your eyes off it.”
Colin grinned and nodded vigorously. “I promise.”
“Dinna forget to thank her, young master,” Aili added. Colin gave Emma the sincerest thanks Iain had ever heard from the boy’s mouth, his eyes now glowing with admiration. A small smile threatened to emerge at the heir’s jubilation.
“We had better eat before these oatcakes get cold. Rest yourselves, everyone,” Aili bade. Iain couldn’t keep his eyes off Emma, who made a quick trip across the house to stow her bag in the trunk again. Conversation picked up as the children marveled over Colin’s new gift and Kenneth and Aili began eating. He went to join them but when Emma returned to the table, it was only to pick up the water jug.
“I’m going to get some water,” she said, walking toward the door.
“I’ll come with ye,” he decided, the words spoken before he knew what he was saying. She looked back at him but didn’t hold his gaze for long, once again pulling her eyes away. They left the house and walked all the way to the river, neither one speaking. He watched as she knelt to refill the water jug.
“Did ye sleep well?” he finally said, attempting to use a kind tone.
“Y-yeah, thanks,” she answered.
“Were ye c
omfortable? Warm enough?”
“Yes, the bed was fine.” Iain wryly noted that she still wouldn’t look at him. When the jug was full, she slowly stood and he could tell she was barely hiding the strain. Her jaw was stiff and her arms shaking slightly.
“Allow me,” he said even as he took the jug from her. “’Tis easy to see that ye’re weary, Emma. Dinna lie to me.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I don’t want to complain,” she said.
Iain nodded. He could understand that. “Show me yer hair.” He gestured at the kertch on her head with his chin. She reached up, grimacing when she lifted her arms, and pulled off the linen. The pink color had faded greatly. “How many more days?”
“Maybe two or three,” she guessed. She covered her head again, her slender fingers tucking her hair back into the kertch. She sighed with relief when she put her arms down. Of its own accord, his hand went to the small of her back, turning her gently toward the house.
“Why do ye no’ drink ale?” he asked, thinking it an innocent question. She stiffened and stepped away from his hand.
“Alcohol is poison.”
Her severe answer surprised him, especially her biting tone. “We drink it at every meal. ’Tis verra filling.”
“I’ll just drink water.” With that, she sped up and walked away from him.
Iain sighed aloud with frustration. What had he said?
He let Emma gain some distance and was nearly halfway to his door when the sound of horse hooves pulled his attention to the east. From the path that led to the village, a single man on horseback emerged. Iain stopped and turned toward the rider, glad that the man had come but wishing that he could do something for Colin. The boy was Archibald’s heir, aye, but he was also a child. Beth was one of the few children for twenty miles near his age and she didn’t treat him as anything more than a playmate. It was no wonder that Colin snuck out to their croft at least once a week.
“Donald,” Iain greeted with a nod. The man dismounted wearing a severe frown, the same expression he always wore when he rode out to fetch Colin.