If My Heart Could See You

by , Sherry Ewing

  “Stand forth and witness the punishment of this man and understand justice will be swift,” he bellowed loudly. “Know whether you are English or Scot, in the eyes of my laws I set forth, all will be dealt with equally. I expect loyalty of my subjects as I claim these lands in the name of King Henry II. You are now subject to the King of England. As you serve me, remember you are serving him, as well.”

  Dristan took a moment to rest his eyes upon his people to ensure his meaning was clear to all. “Hugh of Harlow, I find you guilty of one of many transgressions; speaking on my behalf without my leave, not following directives in the taking of this keep, and striking one of my vassal’s with no right, to name but a few,” he declared, so all could hear his words. “A score of lashes.”

  The Devil’s Dragon of Blackmore gave a brief motion with his hand and the whip unleashed with the first blow. Hugh remained tight lipped, yet fury at this public display blazed in his angry eyes. As the leather struck Hugh’s flesh for the fifth time, he finally gave way to the agony and began to scream in a torment that echoed eerily into the cool night.

  When the last stroke had been laid, Kenna was allowed to see to the man’s back. For Hugh, it made no difference by that time what the count had been. Long afore the executioner’s whip had made the halfway point in its lashing of his flesh, Hugh had succumbed to the torturous pain being inflicted on his bleeding, raw skin. Beyond caring, he had slipped mercifully into a total state of unconsciousness where he felt the sting no more. The same ’twould not be said with the rising of the sun the next morn.

  Seven

  Dristan jerked awake instinctively reaching for his sword in reflex from years of living on edge. He was prepared to meet any unknown danger afore him even subconsciously, thus the soft feather mattress of the bed beneath him surely gave him pause. He had not felt such comfort in quite some time. His gaze searched the grand chamber he found himself in and relaxed once he realized where he slept and for how long. Since the fire within the hearth had long since died down to but a few red glowing embers, he presumed he had slumbered several hours.

  Laying his sword aside, he rose naked from beneath the warm coverings still unsure of what had caused him to rouse at such an early hour. Kneeling afore the hearth, he took bits of dry kindling and placed it on the small embers of coal. It took but a few breaths to have the wood ignite with a crackle, and Dristan at last was able to put several logs upon the flames to take the chill from the room.

  ’Twas then he heard the faintest of sounds. He stopped to listen to the distant and bewildering melody of bagpipes playing somewhere outside the keep. Going to the shutters, he opened them and realized ’twas later than he thought. As his eyes strained to see in the early morning gloom, he began to ponder if the sun ever dared to show itself this far north. ’Twould be a most welcome change.

  He inhaled deeply of the fresh salty sea air, even as his eyes searched the strand below and beyond the castle walls for the source of the tune coming to his ears. As if he conjured the sun out himself from the bleakness of the skies above, the clouds parted and rays of sunlight shone upon the lone figure of a woman surrounded in the morning mist. He blinked his eyes to ensure she was in truth really afore his vision and not just some mythical faerie he had imagined since the scene appeared so enchanted and surreal.

  Dristan’s breath caught at the sight of this solitary lady, staring off at the ocean waves. Although her back was to him, he took note of the length of her long, flowing red hair, reflecting coppery hues from the sunlight shining down upon her. The breeze caught and tangled her wild and riotous curls in a tantalizing dance about her unknown face, enticing him further.

  Desire coursed through Dristan’s veins with a need so compelling his only thought was how he wanted to pull the woman to him and bury his hands in those disheveled tresses. Her features were a complete mystery to him and yet even from the distance separating them, he felt he would recognize her anywhere. His hands began to tingle with the thought of them encircling her narrow waist. The color of her windswept gown appeared to be of a lavender bluish hue. It flowed about her body, adding to the spell wrapping itself around him. He felt himself harden whilst he envisioned the woman writhing beneath him in his bed.

  The sounds of the mournful melody ended abruptly, and he watched whilst the woman sharply turned her head, looking up towards the castle. With the last notes of music echoing on the wind, the sun went back into its place of hiding. He watched in dismay as the mist began to thicken and all but swallowed up the lady upon the sand within the breath of a heartbeat. If he had not witnessed for himself what had been but moments ago afore his eyes, he would have thought he had dreamed the whole illusion and still lay abed, slumbering.

  He shook his head, giving a snort of disgust at where his fanciful thoughts had taken him and wondered where such undisciplined feelings had come from. Mayhap he would have speech with Kenna after he had broken his fast. Dristan surmised a curse had been cast upon him and his healer must surely be about some mischief with a potion or two. He would be more careful henceforth of what mayhap was put into his wine.

  Amiria carefully slid open the door to the hidden compartment and peered into the passageway to ensure the way was clear. Since no sound could be heard and no person seen, she squeezed herself through the opening and quietly closed the door. She quickly made her way along the flooring with soft footfalls. Surprisingly, her steps made little sound as she rushed towards her chamber.

  She looked to and fro to safeguard her deception whilst she hurried down the corridor, giving only the briefest pause afore sadness overtook her when she scurried past the oak portal leading to her parent’s old chamber. ’Twas somewhat difficult having the knowledge of whom no longer resided within. With haste, she quickened her step as her own chamber door loomed afore her then she silently slipped within. She leaned her forehead upon the closed door, slid the bolt home to ensure her privacy and let her breath leave her body with a heavy sigh. She had made it!

  Turning, she let out a gasp of fright. Sabina yanked a fistful of her hair and pulled her into the center of the room.

  “Have you lost your wits?” Sabina hissed at her sibling. Her eyes took in her clothing with disgust. “What game do you play now that you must put us all in peril with your latest ploy?”

  Amiria lifted her head and stared her younger sister in the eye. “I owe you no explanation nor do I put us in danger. I will dress as I wish since ’twas by my arm and sword that at least kept us safe but a few fortnights longer. You have no right to question me and my motives further!”

  “Ha! You started this ploy to dress as our brother and now you put on your finest gown to roam where you will. How come you think this does not put us in danger Amiria?”

  “I was discreet,” she stated simply.

  Sabina looked at her sister coldly. “Mayhap you play another game . . . one of a more womanly nature,” she prompted.

  “What do you mean?”

  Sabina strode about the room and went to sit by the hearth, combing her fingers through her long brown locks with a dreamy expression on her visage. “He is most handsome is he not?”

  “Who is this you speak of now?” Amiria questioned irritably.

  “Why, our Lord Dristan, of course,” Sabina smiled calculatingly. “I could have him if I so willed it, and have seen the desire in his eyes when he gazes upon me.”

  Time seemed to stand still. Amiria looked upon her sister, who now had this far off look in her eyes. “Surely you jest, Sabina?”

  “Jest? Why no, Amiria, I do not jest and will do all I can to please our new liege lord,” she taunted. “Mayhap I will even take him to my bed.”

  Amiria gasped. “And you dare to ask me if I have lost my wits? In truth you must be mad to suggest such a thing and such vile talk will have our beloved parents turning in their graves,” she chided, making the sign of the cross.

  Sabina tossed her hair with a flip of her hand. “I but speak the truth . . . I cou
ld have him if I choose to pursue the matter. Besides . . . what better way for me to remain the lady of this hall?”

  “Sleeping with our lord will not make you lady of this keep, Sabina, but only his whore,” Amiria said solemnly.

  “I will be no whore, but his wife, if I but have my way,” she reflected aloud, and continued with a dreamy expression on her usually angry face. “Oh, to have one such as he as a lover. Truly, he would know how to please a woman such as me.”

  Amiria looked at her sister as if seeing her for the first time. “I am horrified you would speak so sister and know you not at all. Perchance ’tis best mother is long since in her grave. With speech such as this, she surely would have taken you by force if necessary to Habersham Abbey and leave you with the good sisters to repent your evil talk and ways. Mark my words, Sabina, no good shall come if you pursue this course rattling around in your head,” Amiria scolded.

  “Bah! You are jealous I will call that handsome man my own one day.”

  “Mayhap you should get yourself to yonder chapel now to spend some time upon your knees and repent your wicked thoughts instead of thinking of our lord in such a manner.”

  Sabina only looked upon her elder sister with malice shining in her eyes. “I have better things to do than have my knees ache from hours kneeling upon the hard floor,” she sneered, rising from the stool and heading towards the door. “I must see to the meal to break my lords fast. Since you have always enjoyed wearing men’s garments, I suggest you get into them without haste and once more look the boy, Amiria. After all . . . you play the part so very well.”

  Amiria watched her sister leave the room, a smug smile still shining on her face. She fondly gazed down at her dress and smoothed the fabric beneath her trembling fingers. She rarely wore this gown, afraid of ruining the linen. A moment of sorrow overtook her as she remembered when her mother had chosen the cloth when a merchant had come to show his goods to the lady of the keep. Her mother had said the lavender color would bring out the violet in her daughter’s eyes. Amiria and Lynet had lovingly sewed the garment many months after their mother’s death and the gown had become one of her favorites.

  The truth of Sabina’s words came back to haunt Amiria, and, with a heavy sigh, she began the process of carefully taking off her gown and donning hose and tunic once more. Perchance soon she would be able to put the guise of a boy behind her and become the lovely young woman she was in truth supposed to be. As she took some dirt she had hidden away, grimacing as she rubbed it upon her face, she prayed with all her heart her charade would end soon, else she forget how to act the role of a lady forevermore.

  Eight

  Dristan sat at the high table, observing not only his men but also the MacLaren clansmen as they finished breaking their fast. Their bellies full, they sat next to each other within the Great Hall, content and lazy although still wary of one another. ’Twas time he took his new men into the lists and showed them a true master with the sword and shield. Mayhap they would learn a thing or two that would serve them well in future times of battle.

  His brow furrowed into a frown as he watched Sabina make her way amongst the men. When she looked up to the high table where he sat and noticed his gaze upon her, she cast a seductive smile his way and began striding in his direction. ’Twas more of a stalk, he fumed, uninterested in the proposal her look suggested.

  She finally came to stand behind him and a cold chill ran up his spine as she began caressing the back of his neck beneath his hair. She leaned over him to whisper into his ear. If not for his armor he was certain he would have felt her breasts against his back.

  “Did the meal please you, my lord?” she said huskily.

  “Aye,” he declared briskly, shrugging off her advances and rising from the table.

  “Perchance there is aught else that I may do to satisfy thee?” She came to stand afore him, almost begging him to take her.

  “Nay! See to the keep. ’Twill be enough!” His tone was sharp and anyone with matter between their ears would have concluded the issue was at an end. Such was not the case with the girl afore him as he removed her hand from his breastplate.

  “Mayhap, another time then,” she murmured, keeping an open invitation in her voice.

  “I think not,” he exclaimed, dismissing her from his mind and thus did not see her look of disappointment and anger. “Patrick...get thee to the stables and see to Thor’s needs this morn. You men,” he called, “to the lists in full armor . . . we train this day!”

  Dristan heard his men groan at what they knew would be a most strenuous day of training.

  Only one dared voice his thoughts, since he had traveled with Dristan for many a year. “Should we not wait ’til the rain ceases, my lord?” Drake called from his comfortable spot by the roaring fire, obviously hoping Dristan would change his mind.

  “War does not wait for the weather, nor shall we. For your cheek, you shall go first this morn, Sir Drake. Now everyone move, else I must think you wish to train long into the mid-night hour!” he yelled, and watched the chaos ensue when they all scrambled out of their chairs to do his bidding. They made for the door swiftly as if their feet were aflame, much to Dristan’s amusement.

  Satisfied with their haste to be about their training, Dristan thought perchance this was a sure sign of hope for the new guardsmen after all. He noticed one lone knight sitting at one of the lower tables. As the man at last rose from his now finished meal, Dristan scowled at his blatant disobedience.

  Ian hesitantly made his way towards Dristan, giving a slight bow.

  Dristan scowled that the man had the nerve to still be within the keep walls.

  “My lord,” Ian began, “a moment of your time, if I may?”

  “We have business outside. Do you think ’tis beneath you to train with your lord and his men? Mayhap, you feel there is naught I may teach you for those who you will protect?”

  “Nay my liege . . . I would not presume such.”

  “So . . . as captain of Aiden’s guard, what do you wish to have speech about that cannot wait?” Dristan said, already irritated to be delayed.

  “I have but overheard your plan to make Aiden your squire,” Ian began cautiously. “Is this true?”

  “You dare to now question my motives regarding the boy?” Dristan could not believe the gall of the man afore him. “You do indeed presume too much, sir.”

  “Your pardon, my lord. ’Twas not my intent,” Ian spoke in exasperation. “I have guarded the twins for so long ’tis become a habit of mine, along with concern for their welfare.”

  “They are no longer yours to worry about, as they are now my wards and my responsibility. ’Twill be I to decide who will be part of their guard when I know those who will protect them are capable of the task,” Dristan said sternly. He could see the man had more on his mind than just Dristan acquiring Aiden as a squire. “I can see by your expression you have more to say, regarding this pair of siblings. Come . . . speak your mind, Ian, since I can tell of your sincerity as to their safety.”

  Ian ran a hand through his hair afore he chose his words. “All I ask, my lord, is you take into consideration that, for the most part, the pair are innocent children and have been greatly spoiled by their sire. They have been sheltered from the evils of this world and truly only know of this keep and their way of life. The girl, Amiria, had her father wrapped around her finger and could do no wrong in his eyes. Laird MacLaren cherished the twins above the others, although he loved all his children as best he could. I ask that you have patience, my Lord Dristan, when dealing with them.”

  Dristan looked upon Aiden’s captain and saw the truth in his words reflected in his eyes. “You have given me much to think on, Ian, and I have heard your concern. I am, however, disappointed young Aiden chose not to heed my words and join the company for meals.”

  “I am sure he will just need some time to readjust to your ways, my liege.”

  Dristan pondered that for but a moment and nodded his hea
d. “We shall see. In the meantime, word will be sent up for Aiden to join us in the lists to begin his training, although I am sure he will regret not being allowed to break his fast when his belly begins to growl in protest,” he said. “But come . . . let us be about the field and see what you are made of. Mayhap you could show me how to wield that claymore strapped upon your back. ’Tis a most fearsome weapon of choice you Scots prefer.”

  “As you will, my lord,” Ian returned, with a bow.

  Dristan gave a slight chuckle and a hard slap upon Ian’s back that would have felled a less powerfully built man. He could tell Ian was taken off guard by his lord’s unexpected moment of merriment. Dristan wondered what the day would yet come to hold as they made their way out into the rain drenched lists.

  Whereas the garrison hall had but moments afore been filled with knights, it took but a few words from Riorden to clear the hall of all the men who had been lounging about in the slightly smoky room. Apparently, the guards did not want to be the last ones to get themselves to the lists and feel the wrath of the Devil’s Dragon.

  There was another besides the serfs, however, who lingered within the garrison hall, although ’twas most unusual to find a woman within its walls. Near the hearth where the light was better, Kenna rose and stretched as she looked down upon the man, who now rested upon a pallet that had been provided for him. He would never have made it up the stairs to the upper floors on his own.

  It feels good to at last stand, she thought to herself, after having been bent over for what had seemed like hours. It had been a long process of removing the caked on dressing and applying new ones to Hugh’s ravaged back. The man had awoken during the cleansing of his wounds and had screamed as if the flames from hell were scorching his flesh. Given the state of the man’s hide, perchance that assumption was not too far from the truth.