Duty And Passion In The Highlands: A Scottish Medieval Historical Highlander Collection

by Adamina Young

  He fell to his knees, then his face hit the ground. He rolled over and looked up at the sky, at the billowy white clouds and the golden sun. A face appeared over him, blocking the sun. No...it couldn’t be…

  The sounds of the battle continued to rage around him, but they faded into the distance as he thought about his life, about the first time he felt a sword in his hand and how right it had felt, as though it was his destiny. He’d had the same feeling when Myra had placed her hand in his; that they were meant to be together. And although the years had not always been filled with joy (Myra was a tempestuous woman who was always quick to anger) he wouldn’t have changed anything. Ellen had been a lovely child, so beautiful like her mother, and as his heart took its last beats, it swelled with love.

  He died with happy thoughts in his mind...and then was just another dead body on the battlefield.

  1

  Ellen was sitting in the courtyard, basking in the afternoon sun. It never seemed to be warm even when the sun was at its highest. There was always a crisp edge to the air, but Ellen loved days like these. The sky was blue with just a few rolling clouds resting against the sapphire backdrop, the sun was as bright as a topaz, and the air was alive with the fresh scent of flowers. The aroma drifted up to her, caught on the gentle breeze, and she smiled with every deep breath.

  Ellen was twenty-two years old, although her features were youthful and people often thought she was a few years younger. This irked her as some, especially her father’s friends, had a tendency to treat her as a child. She had a heart-shaped face, almond-shaped eyes that had a violet hue, and a slight slope to her nose. Her chin was narrow and a dimple sat in the middle. Her face was flawless and her tawny-brown hair came down to the middle of her back, although she often wore it tied together in a ponytail, and a few errant strands blew around her face. Her body was slender, although she narrowed above the waist in the shape of an hourglass. Her hands were delicate and dainty, but she wished she was taller so that she could cut a more imposing figure and ensure that people didn’t treat her like a child.

  There was only one thing about days like these that she hated: the wait for her father to return. It was so peaceful here in the courtyard of their humble home that it was difficult to imagine a fierce battle was raging nearby. Ellen had always hated that moment when her father rode off to battle, because she knew it might be the last time she ever saw him. She tried not to let those morbid thoughts get the better of her, but it was so difficult, especially now that she was older and knew what the fighting entailed. When she was younger, it had simply been a matter of her father going off to work, as though he were a blacksmith or a merchant. How she now wished that he had chosen a line of work like that, one that didn’t put him in so much danger.

  She prayed and hoped that her father would return and that she was worrying for nothing. A locket rested against her chest and she played with it, turning it between her thumb and finger. The metal was cold against her skin, but it gave her a way to rid herself of this nervous energy.

  Ellen had been sitting outside for a little while when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother, Myra, emerging from the main house. The two women were of similar stature, although Ellen was thinner and her features were more delicate. Myra’s face was often set in a permanent scowl and she walked with a slight stoop, as though the world had burdened her and taken its toll. There were creases around the corners of her eyes and her hair was the same color as Ellen’s, but it was cut much shorter, resting at her shoulders in a frizz. She always walked as though she was on a mission, as though there was never enough time in the world to do everything she wanted to accomplish.

  Ellen’s heart sank when she saw Myra approach, as she knew another lecture was incoming. She took a deep breath to brace herself. Her hands reached around the stone bench and gripped it tightly, and she forced a smile.

  “Good afternoon Mother,” she said in her high-pitched, lilting voice.

  “Ellen, don’t you give me that sweet smile. We have to talk,” Myra said.

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “And don’t give me that either.” Myra jabbed a finger towards Ellen. “You know this has been coming, and if I have to tell you every day until it happens then so be it, but we need to talk about marriage.” Ellen opened her mouth to protest, but Myra held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it Ellen. I know how you feel. I hate to tell you, but it just doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. There are some things in life that we don’t get to choose, and this is one of them. You have to get married, otherwise you’ll become a spinster and you’ll end up dying alone in an old castle. You think your father and I will be around to look after you forever? No chance! You need a good man, a man who can give you prosperity and wealth so that you can have a family too. It doesn’t matter if you like it or not, but that’s the way the world works. You fall in love, you get married, and you have a family.”

  “Why?” Ellen asked. Myra blinked and tilted her head, for she hadn’t expected that particular question.

  “What do you mean ‘why’?”

  “I mean, why do I have to do all that?”

  “What else are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know…I could find passage on a ship and travel the world. I could become a jester and play in the King’s court.”

  Myra barked a laugh. “You’ve never even left the area! What are you talking about, going out to explore the world? That’s not a life made for people like us Ellen. Just know your place in the world, that’s the best thing you can do. Your father has worked hard to give you a new life, and now it’s time for you to give something back. You have to arrange a good marriage with a good man, and I don’t want any shenanigans like last time. What happened with that poor Thompson boy was horrible.” Myra shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “He deserved it. He had no sense of humor at all, and no appreciation for life.”

  “There are more important things to think about than that,” Myra said.

  “But what do you expect of me Mother? I can’t simply fall in love like that.” Ellen snapped her fingers and was unable to prevent a terse tone from creeping into her voice.

  “Nobody is expecting you to, all we’re asking is that you give it a chance to blossom. Love isn’t something that happens straight away.”

  “Father said it did. He always says that, whenever he talks about the day the two of you met.”

  A faint smile appeared on Myra’s face, even though she tried her hardest to force it away.

  “Yes, well, your father is a very rare case and some would say that he was a fool for rushing in so quickly,” Myra said with a twinkle in her eyes. “It just so happened that he was lucky enough to win me over in the end, otherwise all of his feelings would have been for nothing.” She sighed. “I don’t mean to lecture you and I don’t want to argue with you about this, but the simple fact of the matter is that the world is unkind to us. We only have a short time to make an impact, and men seem to value youth and beauty above all else. The years will roll by, Ellen, while you wait for magic to strike, but your beauty will fade and the men’s eyes will turn to younger, prettier maidens. I’m not asking this of you because I’m cruel, just because I know something of how the world works.”

  “It’s so unfair,” Ellen pouted. “Why do we have to do all these things we don’t want?”

  Myra shrugged. “That’s a question for the monks,” she said. “We can only do what we can to give ourselves a good life. Find a good man. In truth, you don’t even need to love him. Just liking him can be enough if he’s kind and generous to you. It’s better than being left behind.” Myra rested a hand against Ellen’s cheek and smiled softly. There was sadness in her eyes. Ellen’s head dipped.

  “I will try Mother, I promise you that, but I don’t want to marry unless I feel something inside.” She jabbed the middle of her chest with her fingers. “Like Father said I should.”

  Myra rolled her eyes. “Your f
ather has filled you with too many romantic notions. I knew it was a mistake entrusting your education in these matters to him. I’ve always said that he’s never lived in this world. He should have been born centuries ago when princesses were locked in towers and they needed knights to rescue them. But we live in this world, and in this world pretty young girls like you have to get married, else you’ll be sitting out here for the rest of your life, waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

  Myra left Ellen to ponder their conversation. Ellen thought on her mother’s words and couldn’t escape the fact that it all seemed so unfair. This need to get married had plagued her ever since it had been mentioned when she left the innocence of youth behind and embraced her womanhood. Almost as soon as she had turned into a woman her parents had spoken about the possibility of her getting married. It was as though she didn’t even have a chance to forge a life for herself without being farmed away to another man, destined to do nothing but have his children and tend to his house. It wasn’t that there was anything particularly wrong with that, it was just that Ellen hated being told what to do, and told that there was nothing else she could do.

  Myra had always been the practical one between the two parents, so Ellen had preferred Robin’s company. Their souls shared a kinship and they saw life the same way. Robin extolled the values of making use of God’s gifts and encouraged Ellen that she could become anyone she wanted to be. He often spoke of how he was just a humble son of peasants with no hope of being anything in the world, but then one day a sword had been placed in his hand and he discovered a new talent. It was as though everything opened up for him then and because of his skill in swordsmanship, he had risen through the ranks and received great rewards and honor for his valor and courage. Sadly, even though Ellen was skilled with a sword as well, the battlefield was no place for a woman. She had become increasingly aware how the world was tilted in favor of men. She could be a maid, a cook, a wife, and a mother. There were few other possibilities.

  But one lesson her father had always taught her was about never settling for anything less than what she deserved. Myra seemed to think that having something was better than nothing, but Ellen wanted to feel the same thing that Robin described when he had seen Myra for the first time. She wanted to feel that heady feeling of dizziness, the dreamy, hazy dancing twilight that lifted her spirits and called out to the heavens, praising the angels and the Lord Almighty for blessing her with such a feeling.

  As yet, she had not felt anything like that. Indeed her heart searched desperately, but all the men she met were either rude or worse, entirely dull. There had been some handsome ones between them, but as they were paraded in front of her Ellen found herself becoming bored with the procession and wanting something more, something different. Perhaps it would have been better if she had been able to choose the man herself, but alas, even that was taken away from her.

  She leaned against the bench and looked up to the sky. She saw a single bird circling before it swooped away, spreading its mighty wings as it soared into the great unknown and became nothing more than a speck. Ellen looked towards the bird with envy as she would have loved to fly away and see the wider world. As it was, she was shackled by the chains that society placed upon her.

  Gazing towards the courtyard, she was determined to have another conversation with her father about her future when he returned. Perhaps she could convince him to allow her more freedom. It was just a matter of time before he came home. She told herself that she didn’t have anything to be worried about. Robin had been unconcerned when he’d left.

  “It’s just a simple matter of some Highland bandits raiding a village. We’ll drive them off soon enough,” Robin had said before kissing her on the cheek. But Ellen found it difficult to quell the unsettling feeling that churned in the pit of her stomach.

  But when the gates to the courtyard opened and the thunder of hooves could be heard, it was not Robin returning at all, but a messenger. His face was stricken and his tunic was stained with blood. He alighted from the horse and ran through the house, towards Myra. Ellen saw him and ran in behind him, making sure that she didn’t miss out on anything. She was a few paces behind, but when she arrived in her mother’s chambers she saw the results of the news and knew what message the boy had delivered. Myra’s shoulders slumped and her head was in her hands. She wept fretfully, and the messenger didn’t know what to do with himself.

  “I’m sorry my Lady,” he said. Ellen stormed forward and pushed him aside. Tears stung her eyes and she sat beside her mother, holding her tightly. Tears trickled down her cheeks and the chamber was filled with the wailing of a widow and her child.

  2

  It had been a few days since they had received the news about Robin, and it was still impossible to take in. Part of Ellen wondered if the messenger had made some mistake and it wasn’t Robin who had died, but someone else. There was no mistake though. Apparently the Highlanders had been brutal and weren’t easily driven off. They had smashed through the first wave of defenders and the skirmish had been chaotic and brutal. It wasn’t known who had killed her father, and only a few straggling survivors had emerged from the battlefield. Once the message had been delivered the boy moved on, and Ellen wondered how many other families he was going to have to see that day, delivering the same terrible news.

  Myra was like a ghost, pale and distant. The years slipped off her and she looked practically ancient, almost like a ghoul. Ellen felt the same inside, as though her heart had been ripped out and replaced with an abyss. She was numb and felt like there was nothing left inside her. Thoughts careened around in her mind, asking herself if there was anything she could have done.

  “Perhaps if I begged him to stay he might still be alive,” she said, but it was no use.

  Myra shook her head. “There was nothing either of us could have done,” she said. “Your father was a stubborn man and he was always going to do what he thought was right. This was his job, his duty, and he wasn’t going to turn his back on it. There was nothing we could have said that would have stopped him going. He just fought one battle too many. After all this time…” Her words choked into a breath. “I thought he might be blessed and we would be spared this fate, that perhaps he could be one of the few soldiers who get to die in their own bed. But now it’s just us…”

  Just the two of them. It was a frightening thought. Robin had always been there, standing tall and strong, bearing the brunt of any sorrow that might come their way. Suddenly the future was filled with all kinds of fearful possibilities and uncertainty. Ellen had no idea what was going to happen next. The first day was spent crying together, and then the fear set in.

  Ellen had never seen her mother appear so weak before. It was as though all the strength had been sapped from her body. She barely ate and it was left to Ellen to try and force her to eat some broth, bread, and cheese. Myra nibbled at them, but didn’t seem to enjoy it at all. Neither did Ellen. The food was bland and tasteless, and she wondered how long she would feel this way.

  The hollowness in her heart lasted longer when she realized that they weren’t even going to be able to get her father’s body back, or any of the jewelry that he had been wearing. It was usually the right of the family of the deceased to receive his weapon, clothes, and other possessions upon death, but according to the messenger the battlefield was bathed in blood and there wasn’t a soul who dared wade through it until the Highlanders had dispersed. By now it was more likely that a villager had seen an opportune moment to scavenge the dead, creeping about the battlefield like a vulture, stealing the possessions of the deceased. And the body, well, who wanted to wade through a mass of dead bodies to find one and then drag it back to the estate for a burial? It was grim work, and Ellen certainly wasn’t going to do it.

  “I can go to the village and ask around to see if anyone saw a looter,” she offered. “I’ll find Father’s possessions. It’s only right that they came back to us.”

  “No love,
you should stay here, where it’s safe. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to put yourself in harm’s way,” Myra said softly.

  “Father knew that I could take care of myself. He taught me everything. If there’s someone out there who has robbed his body then we should do all we can to get them back. They’re ours by right!”

  “That may be, but whoever stole them has undoubtedly sold them by now. You’ll be chasing whispers and rumors and it’ll cost you more to get them back than they’re worth. No, you should stay here, with me. We have matters to discuss,” Myra said.

  Ellen had a feeling she knew what was coming. Although it was a terrible, tragic time, she didn’t want to let her mother take advantage of the situation.

  “If this is about marriage, Mother, I don’t—”

  “Yes it’s about marriage!” Myra snapped. Her eyes flashed with lightning and it was the strongest sign of life Ellen had witnessed from her since they received the awful news. “Your father brought coin into this estate. He worked hard to give you a good life, but it’s going to be more difficult without him around. We need a man, Ellen. We need someone who can broker deals with tradesmen and merchants, we need someone who can provide for us. Nobody is going to want a widow like me, so all our hopes lie with you. We need someone to take care of us,” Myra said.