by TC Calligari
“It was early morning and I was…” She adjusted her story slightly. “walking through the woods when I happened upon the largest bear I ever did see.”
“What was it doing?” Kenzie pressed.
“Gathering its breakfast, I presume.” Cat shrugged. “It stood upon a hill and stretched toward the sky. I had no idea bears were so large, for I’ve only ever seen a pelt. It was the most magnificent thing, as black as the night sky. ”
Aiden slapped Greum across the back causing his brother to choke on the bread he had just eaten.
“Oh, that bear.” Kenzie smiled. “He’s somewhat of a pet around the castle. You can practically walk right up to him and pet him.” Kenzie grunted because Greum had just punched him in the stomach. “You should try it some time.” He said with pained laughter.
Deirdre must have noticed Catríona’s confusion because she waved her hand unconcernedly at the men.
“Oh, don’t mind them, Catlin.” She patted the top of Cat’s hand. “I never know what these bairns are fighting about.” She shot them a look that warned the men to start behaving as adults before continuing. “Now. What’s this I hear about Lady Sutharlainn gone missing?”
“Captured.” Aiden said through a mouth full of sausage. “Father sent an envoy.”
“That was silly.” She argued. “We’ll be receiving his head back on a spike.”
“You think by now they’d have figured out that it wasn’t us.” Kenzie grumbled. Catríona’s ears were ringing with excitement. So soon and she was already hearing talk of the topic she most desired. She willed herself to remain silent, not wanting to impede their conversation or raise suspicion of her interest. Of course they would claim innocence in the presence of a stranger.
“Yes, well, there’s no proof otherwise. Is there?” Deirdre’s responded with nonchalance.
“It was a trap.” Greum spoke softly.
“It matters not, now.” Their sister spoke to them with motherly knowledge. “Lady Sutharlainn will never consent to renew the peace if she suspects your involvement. There is no point in pressing the matter. It’s a wonder she hasn’t sent her clansmen here to slaughter you all for retribution.”
Aiden laughed as if he though this possibility absurd. “Good luck fighting what you can’t find.” His confidence made her want to do exactly as Deirdre had suggested and test her army against their own.
Catríona finished her breakfast in silence. She had been right to suspect that living in their presence would fuel the hate that boiled her blood. Her eyes shifted from Aiden, to Greum, to Kenzie, then further down the table to their father. Four men, she told herself. Four lives, for the price of one.
The following fortnight passed so quickly that Catríona barely noticed. She was surprised to find that she truly liked Deirdre, for all her frank commentary and hearty laughter. Had her life been different, Cat could imagine she and Deirdre having been the best of friends.
Her days were measured, though, by encounters with Greum, who seemed to be everywhere in the castle. Catríona put her discomfort aside and tried to encourage small conversations with him, in the hope that she might eventually be able to pry from him the story of her father’s demise. Their acquaintance grew from courteous acknowledgment, to casual updates, and eventually to Greum joining her midday when she sat, sewing, in the shade of the trees in the gardens.
One day, as he lay on his back in the soft grass, tossing a fallen apple into the air above his head, she finally broached the topic.
“Greum, do you remember my first day in the castle?”
He turned his head toward her and held the apple in his still hands. He nodded.
“Well,” She attempted to speak as if she were only vaguely interested in the topic. “You, and your siblings, were discussing something about Clan Sutharlainn. Something you said that you didn’t do. Something that the missing Lady might never allow peace for…” She set her sewing aside and crossed her hands in her lap. “What was it?”
Greum returned to his game with the apple. “They think we poisoned the Laird.”
“Did you?” she asked tentatively.
Greum hoisted himself onto one arm and looked at her with a piercing glare.
“All your time here and you still think the MacConaills are capable of that sort of treachery?” He rolled onto his stomach and spun the fruit in his fingers, staring at it but seeing another time entirely. “The other clans hate us because we’re different, but we had better reasons for being there that day.”
He spoke with such sincerity that Catríona’s heart went out to him.
Cat scooted forward and laid a hand over his.
“Because the Lady Moira was kin to Clan MacConaill?”
“Partially.” He admitted, looking up at her with a half-smile.
“Why else?” She pressed.
Greum dropped the apple so that Catríona’s hand fell between his in its place.
“It doesn’t matter.” His thumbs rubbed slow circles on her palm as he stared at their joined hands. Catríona’s heart beat fast and her breath came in shaky bursts. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his fingers tracing the lines of her hand. He must have felt her tremble because a moment later his lips pressed against the sensitive skin. Catríona opened her eyes to see Greum watching her.
With slow movements, never breaking eye contact nor releasing her hand, Greum raised himself into a seated position. His thigh pressed against hers, her knee resting beside his hip. His hand raised and tucked a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear.
Catríona felt a knot rise in her throat. Her opinion of this man was terribly conflicted. He was known as a fierce warrior, and yet was so gentle. He claimed to be falsely accused of her father’s murder, yet he and the clan were riddled with secrets. He was the very face of her enemy, and yet she craved his touch.
“Cat.” His fingers brushed her shoulder and followed the length of her arm down to the elbow. This time the name did not recall memories of her hatred. He spoke her name as a man should. The result was an increasing heat in her body, a coiling tension that built in the very center of her body.
“This is wrong.” She whispered, more for herself than anything.
“There’s nothing wrong about this.” Greum’s voice was smooth and calming. Or, it should have been calming but had little effect on the rolling emotions that were overwhelming Catríona by the minute.
Greum leaned forward and kissed her. The already empty garden faded into silence in the back of her mind. Catríona restrained herself for only a moment before giving in to the abandon of her desires. Her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, her fingers buried themselves into the black curls at the base of his neck, and Catríona felt herself pulled resolutely onto Greum’s lap.
She had been chastely kissed by a man before, but never like this. His mouth roamed over hers, guiding and prying from Catríona a response that she would never have thought possible. She wanted more, a dangerous thought for a woman who had guarded her virginity so fiercely all her life.
Her hands found themselves at the front ties of his neck, rapidly pulling the laces from their holes. She wanted to feel the skin she had glimpsed only one time before. To run her fingers over the contours had she had previously imagined. Greum’s hands were hungrily roaming over the exterior of her dress. His hand hooked on the back of her knee as he pulled her closer, shifting them each into a more comfortable position. It followed her skirt up the length of her leg, over her hip, and eventually came to rest near its counterpart at her waist. Greum’s large hands nearly encircled Catríona’s trim waist, the contrast between his strength and her petite frame exhilarated them both.
A loud noise in the distance startled Catríona. The war horn was sounding yet again. With a sigh Greum shifted Cat back to the ground beside him. He stood, adjusted his shirt and kilt before coming to crouch in front of her. Greum stared at her face as if he could read every thought in her mind. Catríona blushed in hop
e that he could not.
He did not say anything, merely placed a finger under her chin to turn her face up toward his, planted a soft kiss on her lips, and spun briskly away to answer the call of the horn.
Catríona lay back in the grass and covered her face with her hands. What had she been thinking? She shook her head back and forth as she chastised herself for once again falling into his embrace. Finally, she rolled to her stomach and released a quiet groan into the ground. She allowed herself a small tantrum, kicking her feet as if the act would remind her to keep her wits about her next time.
Once, she felt that she had effectively collected herself, Catríona rose and gathered her things. She would be expected in the courtyard with the other women. This time, she told herself, she would be staying for the stories.
Catríona sprinted through the hallway to catch up with Deirdre, who had just left her rooms. She tossed her bag inside her own and caught up with the other woman.
Deirdre glanced at Cat with a knowing grin. They walked together in silence toward the courtyard. As they waited for the great doors to open before them, Deirdre turned to Catríona and picked a blade of grass from her braid.
“My brother looked similarly disheveled upon leaving the castle.” She stated bluntly. Catríona was too panicked to answer. She felt the blush rise in her cheeks but did not respond.
Deirdre linked her arm through Cat’s.
“You know,” She leaned against Catríona’s shoulder and pressed their heads together conspiratorially, “I think I quite like you.” Catríona allowed herself to release the breath that she had been holding. Without another word on the subject, they entered the courtyard to join the townsfolk gathered below.
The gathering this time was substantially different. Having been welcomed by The MacConaill and his family, Catriona was now treated as another, welcome member of the clan. The women joked and laughed with her, shared their food and drink, and teased her like one of their own.
As they all gathered around the fire a child shouted, “Tell the tale!”
“No,” His mother whispered. “Mistress Catlin need not be bored with such tales.”
Deirdre stood and placed a hand upon Cat’s shoulder.
“She’s seen the black bear.” Deirdre announced. A hush fell over the crowd. “It’s time she hear the tale.” Deirdre looked down at Cat with piercing green eyes and a knowing grin. “If you’re going to stay, which I’d wager you will, its time you learn what stayin’ means.”
The children gathered in a half circle around the oldest woman in the crowd. She covered her hair with a tartan scarf and settled onto a stool to tell her tale to the waiting ears.
It was a long time ago when Clan MacConaill came to these lands. Long before any of the others arrived to state their claim. The woods were filled with spirits and sprites. Druids roamed freely, bringing help or misery as they saw fit.
Cat smiled and held her hands over the fire. Each clan had their own magical tale and she always enjoyed hearing the many versions. Clan Sutharlainn’s tale told of a great army of birds that flew in search of the most beautiful land they could find. When they settled in the highlands, they decided never to fly away again. They asked a druid to give them legs and arms to work the land and build their homes, and so the clan came to give up their wings for the love of the highlands. Every spring a great flock of birds flew over the Sutharlainn lands, a reminder from the druid of their great gift.
It was a time of magic and mystery, danger…. And love. The MacConaills crossed the land searching for the perfect land to settle.
Upon their journey, a young druid fell in love with the son of the Laird, but he would not have her. The druid cursed Clan MacConaill for to mend her broken heart.
She called upon her magic, and turned the men into raging beasts of the forest. Great bears, not much different than those that roam our lands today.
The MacConaill women were distraught. They were never to hold or speak to their husbands and sons again. Those who were already with child gave birth to beastly sons. The cubs ran into the forest to join their wild kin. And the mothers were left alone.
One day the druid found herself in trouble. An army of men had gathered around her hut, wishing her ill and harm. But the bears MacConaill showed up and tore them to pieces, saving the young druid’s life.
She was so grateful that she wished to remove the curse that she had placed upon them. But the call of the beast had already taken root in their hearts.
As repayment for their deeds she did what she could. She allowed the bears to return to their human forms. To return to their mothers, and wives, and daughters.
But the call of the bear was still with them, still in the hearts of the men MacConaill, who could shift between forms as they please, whether to roam wild as their hearts desired, or protect our lands with their beastly fury.
And so it is, that ours remains the only clan whose bond still ties them to nature. For the druid promised to never again tamper with beast or man.
And so the men MacConaill are neither bear nor man, but both beasts live inside of them.
Catríona clapped her hands with the rest of the crowd at the beautiful retelling of the clan tale. She now understood why the black bear was a favorite of the locals, a protected pet allowed to roam their land without fear. She smiled to herself as she remembered Kenzie’s words. She wondered if that was why Greum wandered into the forest.
The women kept vigil until the men returned in the late morning. This time they were all too tired to engage in much of a celebration. Catríona and Deirdre retired to their chambers after a brief assurance that Deirdre’s brothers were safe and alive. Catríona failed to meet Greum’s eyes, the memory of their last encounter playing much too vividly in her mind.
The next morning, Cat woke to see, from her lofty window, Greum passing through the castle gate. She looked at the low sun, barely breaking the line of the horizon and knew Deirdre would not wake for a few more hours. Greum was going to see the bear. Catríona just knew it. She was too afraid to approach it on her own, but if she could only see Greum do it, it might ease her fears.
She threw her thick traveling cloak around her shoulders, not bothering with anything more than her shift and shoes beneath it. There was not time to dress properly if she were to catch up to Greum. It was not as if she were going to allow him to see her anyway. She would observe, she told herself, from a safe distance.
Catríona slipped out of the castle and through the outlying village with simple nods at the people she passed. She watched Greum cross into the woods as she jogged, once again, across the wet field. This time, she could see him ahead of her in the trees, picking his way carefully through the forest.
She followed him up the side of the hill that she recognized from her last encounter with the bear. She chewed her lip in anticipation. She could not imagine how such a monstrous creature could be tame.
When she reached the top of the hill she saw… nothing. She scanned the forest below her. She could no longer see Greum. She did not see the bear.
It was then that she heard the low rumble behind her.
Catríona spun around to face a snarling wolf across the clearing. He had approached the hill from the side and was slowly making his way toward her. Catríona’s heart sank. This was a truly wild animal and she knew it. It occurred to her that the dagger she normally kept tied to her ankle was sitting uselessly on the table beside her bed.
To her left, another wolf revealed itself through the tall bramble.
The first wolf made a snarling lunge and Catríona released a frightened shriek. The move had brought him within a stone’s throw of Catríona. There were three wolves now, and they were closing in on her.
She was afraid to turn her back on the beasts and run, the movement would surely encourage an attack. Not, she reminded herself, as if there were any other potential result. The way she had come was now barred by the dripping fangs of a she-wolf. The way Greum had gone, clea
r, but she worried if it only led deeper into the forest. She needed to reach the clearing around the castle. Only then, could she hope that the clansmen would arrive in time to save her life. Catríona shook as she estimated how fast a wolf could run in comparison to a small female woman, and she did not like her odds.
She had almost resigned herself to the inevitable when a monstrous roar erupted from behind her. The black bear lumbered up the hill toward her. The wolves, appearing like small dogs beside the enormous bear, braced themselves but did not retreat.
She was shaking from head to foot. Catríona felt a tear slip down her cheek as the bear lumbered past her and placed himself between Cat and the wolves. Would he eat her after finishing with the pack? She wondered.
The bear raised itself onto its hind legs and stood at its full height. He roared at the wolves, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Catríona’s neck and causing a chill to sweep through her body. They were too far away from the castle to be heard and Greum, if he was smart, would remain hidden.
The she-wolf launched herself at the bear, who batted her away like a small toy. She rolled limply down the hill and then ran away with a whimper. The two remaining wolves considered an attack before turning tail and running off after their companion.
Catríona sank to her knees on the ground. Her face was streaked with tears and her vision blurred. She heard the bear turn toward her and she covered her face with her hands, her entire body shaking as she sat crumpled at its feet.
Before she realized it she was being pulled into the warm embrace of distinctly human arms. Her head rested on a shoulder and gentle hands smoothed her hair and roamed her body in search of injuries.
“Cat, tell me you’re alright.” Greum spoke into her ear. She nodded through her tears and allowed him to comfort her. When she had collected herself, she raised her head slightly to look for the bear behind him. But the hill was empty.