by Fiona Faris
“Ye’ve done good, Logan,” he said.
Down below, Sophia turned to Fanny in shock. “A battle? I cannae say I’m surprised.”
Fanny nodded, “Tis been a long time comin’. We shall make sure we have all we might need. There will be many who need us come tomorrow.”
All around them, people were abuzz with the nervousness that came just before a battle. The kitchen staff started setting up large tables and brought down stew, pottage, bread, and cheeses for the soldiers to feast on. Come the middle of the night, they would need all the energy they could get.
Logan walked with Alrick to check the weaponry room off the side of the great hall.
“These are hard times,” Alrick said finally. Logan pulled down swords and shields one by one. The clan kept a very secure supply of weapons and armory for as many of their men as they could.
“Tis the only idea I have.” Logan felt shocked by the amount of equipment in the room. He realized then there were many new weapons. He wondered how many of them had belonged to the displaced men now staying in the keep. He had his best blacksmith working on rebuilding and repairing the weapons that had been damaged.
That was when Logan saw one claymore in particular that stood out to him. It was carved with a very intricate Scottish knot. He recognized it, even though he had only seen it one time. It was the claymore that belonged to Sophia’s father. Logan had long ago promised to repair it and make it good as new, and here it was, shining with strength.
“I shall be back, Alrick. Make sure you separate our weaponry from the weaponry that likely belongs tae the men in the keep. I have somethin’ I must take care of.” With that, he left the room, holding the long claymore. He knew he wanted to give it to Sophia now, in case anything happened to him tonight. It would be harder for her to get it back if he did not return safely from the battle.
In the great hall, many had already started filling up on food, but others were focusing their time on their families and wives. Many of the wives stood, their faces wet with tears. Logan hated that it had come to this. He did not want to tear apart any other families. The sight of so many families together would once have brought him grief, as he mourned his late wife, Isla. But things had changed; now when he looked upon these families, all he felt was a sense of duty. He needed to protect the clan at all costs.
Logan spotted Sophia. She stood talking with Fanny, likely preparing for their return. The healers had no breaks, given how much tragedy they had all been through lately. He rushed over. At first, Sophia seemed surprised that Logan was approaching her so openly in front of everyone, but then her eyes focused on the claymore. Logan noticed tears starting to well in her eyes.
“My father’s claymore! Ye’ve fixed it!” She ran forward and lifted the sword. Though it was heavy, she held it and eyed the intricate details. “I’ve never seen it look so new,” she said softly.
“Aye, my blacksmith’s a good man. He does great work,” Logan responded. He paused, searching for what he wanted to say. “I wanted tae give this tae ye, now, before the battle.” Sophia looked at him then. She bit her lip again in the way that made him want to stop everything, pull her in until their heartbeats collided as one sound between their skin, and kiss her.
He let out a sigh. “If I dinnae come back, it will be hard fer ye tae get it out of the weaponry room.”
Sophia’s mouth dropped open. She stormed up to Logan. “Ye must come back. I—” she caught herself, “we—need ye here.”
“I shall do my best. But tis going tae be a long night, and I always lead the battles. I fight in front of me men, nae lettin’ them do the battlin’ for me.” He held his chin high as he spoke.
Sophia stepped forward, leaving nearly no distance between them. “Well, I do hope ye return. I hope we can finish what we started.” She raised her eyebrow and smirked at Logan.
And as much as he did not want to act in response, given how many people were already eyeing him, all he could think was that he might not return from this battle. So he did what any man who faces death might do: he pulled in the beautiful woman in front of him and he pressed his lips against hers. He leaned her over and wrapped his hand into her hair. She reached up and put her arms around his neck.
Neither Logan nor Sophia cared then who was watching them. All they knew was that they had long grown tired of keeping their feelings to themselves. Sophia clung to him, knowing it might be the last time she would see him. Sophia was weary of all the tragedy she faced, but she knew she needed to be strong in that moment, for Logan.
They parted after only a few more moments of kissing, to see that most people leered at them with mouths open. As soon as Logan glanced their way however, they closed their mouths and looked away.
Logan smiled at Sophia and said, “I shall do all I can tae return tae ye.” He leaned down and kissed her hand, and she blushed. He walked away then to prepare for the battle. Sophia’s hand drifted to her lips subconsciously, and she walked back over to where Fanny stood. Fanny had her lips pursed, and was doing her best not to smile as wide as she truly wanted to.
After a long stretch of silence passed between them , she finally said, “What did ye say this mornin’ bout sending staff tae wake Logan?”
“Fanny!” Sophia said, shocked.
“Just a question, lassie.” She winked at Sophia, and the two burst into laughter. It felt good to laugh and joke with Fanny like that. A part of Sophia felt it was almost like having her mother there for a moment. If her mother could not be there, she was glad she was able to share the moment with Fanny.
Sophia thought about the kiss which, like all kisses, had been breathtaking. It worried her that Logan would lead them all in battle. She selfishly wanted him to stay, to remain safe there with her. But she knew that fact was part of what made him a good leader. Sophia realized then that she was still holding her father’s claymore. She ran after Logan, who had just left the great hall.
“Logan, wait.”
He paused and turned around, his eyebrow lifted with curiosity.
“I want ye tae take this. It served my father well; it shall serve ye well tae.” She thrust the sword in his direction.
“Are ye sure? It could be lost in battle,” he said, taking the claymore.
“Aye, tis better fer it tae be lost in yer possession than tae be here. I think my father would want ye tae have it.” Her eyes shone with wetness, but she held it in.
“Thank ye, Sophia. I much appreciate ye givin’ this tae me.” Sophia nodded and turned away from him.
“Sophia, wait. I need tae tell ye somethin else,” Logan said. Sophia turned to face him. “Dillon’s men, they took Moon. But I promise ye, I will return with her, or I shan’t return at all.” Sophia ran to him and embraced him. She nodded, understanding.
She couldn’t stand to look at him any longer, for fear of breaking down more than she already had. As Logan walked off, Sophia realized how devastated she would be if he never returned. She wanted desperately to kiss him again, to hold him, perhaps to do more. Her skin craved his touch, and she, too, craved his presence. Without him, the castle would be a hollow place. She turned around and went back towards the great hall to talk with Fanny and prepare what they would need for when the men returned.
* * *
The hours passed, and nightfall came sooner than anyone hoped. The castle was thick with tension, and the men all had somber faces. They knew they were headed into a battle that could end with the clan even weaker than they began. While Fanny tried to convince some of the men to stay, many of them insisted on going, even the ones who had only barely healed from the poison. She knew their loyalty lay with the estate more than their own health and she could respect that.
The men met outside the great hall near the stables and waited for Logan to appear. Finally, he stepped out clad in his full battle attire. He held Sophia’s father’s claymore and a shield he had used since his first battle. He was ready to face whatever the evening brought him.
“I have high hopes that we shall be victorious. But, as with any battle, ye are all at risk of losing yer lives. I will lead ye all in and do my best tae protect ye, but tis no easy feat. But we must fight fer our estate, fer our land, fer our families!” Logan’s voice rose in volume until the end of his speech. The men around him raised their fists and cheered alongside him. He had always been skilled in getting everyone ready for battle, even though they all knew they could die that very evening. When he used his bearlike voice for the good of the clan, men sensed the presence of a leader.
The men marched out in a giant horde. The ones with horses charged ahead, leading the way, willing to put themselves at risk first. Some of the men from the keep were dressed simply with small weapons, but they were still willing to be there to fight for their clan.
Sophia watched from the window. The moon was high over their heads. She said a silent prayer for them all and hoped they proved to be successful in their attempts to protect the clan, but she feared for the safety of the men as a whole. She wasn’t sure the clan could survive any more hardships or tragedies. As the men marched on, the land around them seemed to tremble with them.
* * *
The men arrived at Dillon’s estate and charged towards the walls, wielding swords and torches. But when they arrived, they were not much surprised to find that Dillon and his clan had been expecting them. Dillon’s men were on horseback and charged forward, their claymores raised, willing to knock off any man or horse who stood in their way.
Thankfully, Logan had a feeling this would be the case. He had the men on horses hold their shields high and form a line of defense, protecting their less-armored men. Alrick shouted for some of the men to move around the side, to approach from the back side of the estate. They had one goal: capture Dillon and bring him back to Logan’s estate.
The men of the keep moved slowly and steadily as Dillon’s men were distracted by Logan’s scouts. They clashed, smacking sword against shield and shield against sword. As the horses pushed forward, Logan’s men managed to knock a few of Dillon’s men down enough to wound them. The men on foot charged forward, seeing their opportunity. They rushed inside, hoping to help the men who had already entered the castle.
Unfortunately, Dillon had not prepared for Logan’s men to enter the estate so quickly. He sent every man he had out to the entrance. Unlike Logan, he did not believe in entering battle alongside his men. Logan counted on this very fact to help them.
Logan turned and swung his sword as two men charged towards him, attacking him from either side. Logan was used to being the main target in these battles. If a soldier took down the opposing Laird, they would be a hero at the estate. He swung in a wide circle around him and managed to knock both soldiers off their horses. Alrick came in just as the men fell.
“I shall go see if we can capture Dillon. Will ye be alrigh’?” Alrick asked.
“Go!” Logan shouted, fending off another soldier who had seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Alrick charged ahead to go help the men inside the castle. He raced through the courtyard, and saw children and women rushing away. He hated this part of the battles: the idea that these women and children feared him. He didn’t want to attack anyone, especially not the innocents of the estate—he only wanted to do what was best for his estate. By the time he reached the inside of the main part of the castle, there were already four men inside, trying to break down the door of Dillon’s bedchamber.
As the men went to push their bodies against the door, Dillon threw it open and swung his claymore in defense. The men fell, and Dillon instantly attacked, stabbing one man in the arm. The man let out a wail, and Alrick swung his own sword hard, slicing the skin on Dillon’s exposed sword-holding arm. Dillon moaned and dropped the sword, and Alrick kicked it far back into the room. He held his sword out and pointed it at Dillon’s throat.
“Please, dinnae kill me,” he begged.
Alrick grabbed the rope he’d tied around his arm and reached forward for Dillon. He grabbed the man as he fell to his knees.
“I shall leave Logan tae deal with ye.” He bound Dillon’s hands behind his back and lifted him to drag him. The men from the keep were tending to the wounded one. Alrick tore a scrap of linen from his tunic and threw it at the men with his one free hand.
“Bind up the wound. We’ll take him tae the healer’s right away. Let’s get him outside and on a horse,” he said.
The men did as they were told, and Alrick led Dillon outside, where Logan had managed to knock down most of the soldiers alongside the other scouts. He let out a sigh as soon as he saw Dillon in Alrick’s grasp.
The men around them let out loud whoops, cheering at the sight of the enemy captured. Their horses bucked excitedly as if cheering as well.
“Great work, lad! Great work!” Logan yelled. “Now, let us get back tae our estate with this bastard, and let’s get care tae the ones who need it!” Logan lifted his sword, and the men alongside lifted theirs as well. The men who had been on foot grabbed at the horses that belonged to the Dillon estate and rushed alongside them. Seeing the men taking ownership of the new horses, Logan remembered something very important.
“Ye lead the men back. I have one more thing tae settle,” Logan shouted to Alrick. Alrick nodded and rushed forward, an injured man on the back of his horse. They moved with the rush of adrenaline and victory.
Logan pushed forward, rushing towards the stables. From afar, they looked empty, and he wondered what Dillon could have done with Moon, but he pushed forward and climbed off his stallion as soon as they were outside. He went in, but saw only weakened old mules. He was about to turn and leave when a dark figure caught his eye. He stepped closer to the shadow and saw that it was Moon, huddled on the floor.
“Moon, come here lassie,” Logan whispered. Moon’s head popped up. Logan reached into a nearby bucket, grabbed a carrot, and held it out to her. She jumped up then and walked towards him. He gave her the carrot and pet her snout, whispering reassuringly.
“Come on, lassie, let’s get ye back tae Sophia.” He unwound the rope that bound her to the wall and pulled her forward. And with the treat she was given, Moon was willing to follow Logan. While he may have been exhausted and mildly injured, he was glad the battle had gone so favorably for them. As soon as he returned with her mare, and Dillon as their prisoner, He knew he would be a hero in Sophia’s eyes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sophia did not have much work since she and Fanny had taken the time to prepare all they could for the return of the men from battle. Outside of the time she spent preparing, Sophia felt glued to the window in her bedroom. Every pitter-patter of rain sounded like the hooves of horses returning home; every whistle of wind sounded like the men whooping in victory. Sophia hoped that would be the case, that they would return as champions, but there was never any telling what could happen.
Dillon’s men had proven to be focused on triumphing over their clan, and it seemed he was willing to kill innocent people to claim this land as his own. But Sophia believed in Logan’s abilities as a leader. She knew he would do all he could to bring the men back home safely.
It was then, as she sat there envisioning a reunion kiss, that she saw the brightly colored flags of their clan. The men were returning! They moved slowly, but with a determination in their steps. Behind one of the horses, a man was bound and walking, stumbling over his feet. Sophia could see he wore the distinctive crest of Dillon’s clan, and she wondered if that was the terrible Dillon she had heard about. Sophia could not watch anymore. Seeing the men approaching, she ran to the great hall where she was sure they would return.
She waited outside, and Fanny showed up not t
oo long after her.
“Ye were also watching fer them, I see.” Sophia smiled. From near the stables, Sophia could see there were men slumped on horses, and a few bodies wrapped in cloth. She was immediately disheartened, seeing that they’d lost even more brave souls. But Sophia could not contain the gratitude that flowed from her when she saw Logan, looking exhausted but unharmed. And he’d brought Moon! She was so happy that both of them were safe, and she ran to the mare as soon as she was within reaching distance.
“My moon, my moon, I am so happy ye are alright.” She leaned her head against the horse’s snout and breathed in her scent.
“I told ye I would bring her back.” Logan stopped his horse and dismounted. “Hello Sophia,” he said. Sophia could see scratches along his neck and his arms.
“Yer hurt,” she said.
“Tis but scratches,” he said, looking at his own wounds.