I yelled back, “Tavish, fetch the boat.”
I heard Caitlin again. This time she growled out her frustration. “We have no time for a boat. The lad’s going down. We need to do something, right now.”
Sure enough, Abe was splashing about and acting in a mighty disturbing manner. Then Caitlin did what I’d come to expect of her—the thoroughly unexpected. She pulled her tunic off so that she stood at the loch’s edge in her shift, for all to see. The shift only, and naught else. But that was only the beginning. Before I could scold her, she bounded into the water and proceeded to swim in the strangest crawling manner, like a spider racing over the surface of the water. We all stared of course, not sure whether to cheer her on or shriek from the sheer oddity of her movements. I had no idea that the girl could swim, let alone swim like a giant cod. I raced to the water’s edge determined to go in after her, but ended up flailing about in my usual manner, making slow progress in my dog-paddle style. My head was still above water of course, so heard the ruckus the folk on the shore were making. I stood so I could see what they were all on about. Caitlin was already at Abe’s raft. She’d pulled him out of it, and appeared to be towing him around in the sea. He was on his back and my love was towing him in, like a fisherman pulling a giant finned beast. Abe was quieter than I’d ever seen him before. He appeared to be lying still, not thrashing, and letting my Caitlin drag him in to safety.
We were a stunned lot, mouth’s open, watching it all unfold. Some of our women began shrieking in anticipation as the two neared the shore. It was as if we were at a carnival and there was a show on, something so strange and compelling that none could look away. I’ve seen men eat fire and swallow swords afore, but all that paled in comparison to the wee girl swimming about in the water, better than Neptune himself. I’ve never known Abe to be so obedient either.
When they were both within grasping reach, I grabbed hold of Caitlin and pulled her to me. Gavin was with me then, his iron grip taking hold of Abe.
“Ye saved his life, Lass,” I murmured, kissing her cheek.
She waved my praise aside. Once she caught her breath, and once she noticed the gapped stares of the castle folk that gathered around, she said, “In my land, we know how to swim. It’s nothing special for us.”
Still no one uttered a word. Then Caitlin spoke again in a low voice, “I’m not sure I blended in.”
“Blending in be damned,” I called out for all of my clan to hear.
That night, my dreams were more troubled than usual. ’Twas not the up-and-coming battle that bothered me, but Caitlin. Why would she stay here when she was clearly from a magical place where folk did remarkable things? She told me often enough that she was leaving, returning to her own land. I still didn’t know where that was. What were my odds of keeping her here with me? Not great. Not even good. ’Twas a deeply unsettling thought.
Chapter 12
Caitlin
Bern and his men spent days in preparation, readying themselves to leave the safety of the castle and ride to the coast to board the waiting boats. From there, they’d sail to Innse Gall, or the Hebrides, as I knew it. Every fit and practiced fighting Highlander was joining Bern, just as the king had ordered.
We were a scrappy bunch, those of us left behind: women and children, aged men, and a few warriors too mutilated by constant warring to fight effectively. As the day dawned, my apprehensions grew. I rose that morning to an empty bed. Bern must have gotten up early and eaten and be doing all those things men do before they go off to war. I’d just stepped into my gown when the chamber door flew open and he stepped in. We held each other’s gaze for too long, memorizing the way we looked, storing the moment for safekeeping.
“Will you be all right?” I asked him.
“Of course. We will defeat the Norse and then I shall ride home to ye, uninjured.”
Mere mention of the word, injured, made me tense. I moved into his arms, wanting to feel cherished one last time. I will remember this feeling, I told myself. This is how it feels to be truly loved by a strong man. Tiny beams of morning light were shining in through the open door, illuminating his handsome face, his wild hair, and his mesmerizing eyes. I could hear the sound of horses stomping and the cry of excited men in the bailey below and knew they were waiting for Bern, their leader, to join them.
“I have told Martha that ye are to be here when I return and that ye are to be treated as Lady of the Castle.”
I felt my eyes prick with tears. “That wasn’t necessary. I do not need any special treatment.”
“Mayhap not, but ’tis what I want.”
I squeezed him tight, pulling him into me, trying to meld our blood and bones. “Just come back in one piece. That’s all I ask.”
“Of course. Oh, and I’ve told Martha that when I’m gone, I’d like her to make a start on clearing out the old rushes. All of the layers, right down to the hard stone floor. There are plenty of fresh green reeds growing down at the river bed. Martha’s girls can collect them.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing on the tips of my toes so that I could reach his mouth. His kiss was filled with tenderness and made my heart ache.
“I love ye, Caitlin.”
I smiled back at him with watery eyes. I wanted to tell him that I loved him too, so much, but how could I do that? I’d already made up my mind. I wasn’t staying, not for good. The two of us could never be a couple. I couldn’t live in the past, I just couldn’t. I’d leave Tor Castle just as soon as I knew that he was home safely. No more stalling. What I could not do was spend the rest of my days worrying that I was about to be widowed or die in childbirth or perish from blood poisoning from a simple cut. I’m a modern, educated women who needs the modern world. How many twenty-first-century people could bare to live in 1263? Not many. I drew in a deep, troubled breath. Nothing’s changed. I know what I have to do. Bern’s going to have to accept reality. I’m going home, and going alone.
We held hands as we walked down the narrow stairs that led to the inner bailey. His men were all there, yelling to each other, laughing, accepting the thrown kisses that the castle lassies tossed their way. There was an air of celebration amongst the crowd, a feeling I didn’t share. Bern kissed me hard, once only, then swiftly turned and pulled himself onto his horse.
“See ye soon, my love,” he mouthed before signaling for his men to follow. Then he clomped away from me, down one bailey and then another till all I could hear was the drum of horse hooves spilling through the Iron Gate and over the wooden bridge. I wanted to run after him, to scream for him to stop, to demand that he stay safe but I did none of those things. Instead, I looked around the almost empty courtyard and wondered how it could be so full of life one moment and then so lifeless the next. Without the men, the castle grounds felt as desolate as an old western town.
Elspeth was watching me from a shadowed doorway. When I caught her eye, she smiled sadly then came forward and collected me in her arms. “He’s one o’ the best in all o’ the Highlands. It would be no easy task to kill him.” She linked my arm and led her new, watery-eyed friend, back inside the keep.
~ ~ ~
Those that remained behind in Tor Castle, ate together in one huddle inside the great hall. I had no intention of sitting in my old place at the high table, where I’d sat with Bern. Instead, I nestled myself between my friends: Elspeth, Ada, and Nelly. Our meals were simpler now, with the young men gone. We ate bread and cheese, smoked pork, onions, kale and green beans. Far from missing the heavy meat dishes, I enjoyed the sparse fare. It would not feel right to be feasting on fresh cream, crispy-skinned fish, and venison with our men far away and in so much danger.
Elspeth insisted that I learn craft skills with Bern gone, that this was a great opportunity to learn all those things that ladies usually excelled in. In other words, learn things I should know already. It might have been
her way of keeping me occupied. But I had little interest in embroidery or weaving.
“I’m not spending another day cosseted in the castle, pushing a needle through cloth. We did that yesterday, and my fingers and thumbs are full of pin pricks. One day of that carry-on is more than enough for me. And don’t mention weaving because I’m not doing that either.” I nibbled on my morning oatcake.
Elspeth shook her head at the others, implying that I was a rebellious student and most unladylike to boot. But I was beginning to know these women and recognized the fact that none of them were mouse-like or simpering. Instead, they were strong, capable women. They knew how to hold their tongues, whereas I’d had no practice at that. For all of Elspeth’s protests and bluster, she also did not enjoy woman-craft much either. She craved activity as much as I did.
“So what do you suggest we do today then, Lady Caitlin?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to the river to cut reeds. Martha’s probably cursing me right now. It was my idea that we replace all of the bottom rushes in the castle, all the layers down to the stone and put fresh in their place.”
“Oh, she’ll be cursing ye for certes. I don’t believe that the lower rushes have e’er been cleared away, not since the castle was built.”
“Exactly my point. I won’t say another word about the stink, or the fleas, or food scraps, or rats and human waste that’s trapped down there making everyone sick.”
“Good. Don’t.”
I pushed my wooden bowl away. “This was all my idea so best I help cut the reeds before Martha creeps into my room at night and points a knife at my throat.”
Elspeth stood and shook her breakfast scraps off her tunic. They fell onto the floor. Little bits of bread and cheese nestled themselves in amongst the old straw. “Leave the cutting of the water rushes to the peasants. It is hard work and will damage your pampered hands. But I like the idea of gathering sweet gale and chamomile and wormwood. We can sprinkle our herbs over the new rushes to help keep the insects away.”
I jumped up, too. “We could look for sweet gale down by the stream, near Agnes’s hut.”
Ada and Nelly had enough to do so Elspeth and I set off on foot, on our own. We found Agnes outside her hut, rounding up her children. Her baby was strapped in a sling to her middle.
“Miladies,” she said, doing a half curtsey.
I waved my arm around in an attempt to stop her reverent behavior. “Enough of that. I’m plain ‘Caitlin’ to you.” Agnes’s girls recognized me and ran around in circles, giggling and squealing. I laughed too, and chased them so that the three of us were now running around in one long snake. It was the warmest of welcomes. Agnes handed Elspeth the baby, and together the two women fussed over her pink cheeks. From the corner of my eye I studied Agnes. She looked more troubled than last time we met, concern etched over her young face.
I stopped running. “What’s wrong, Agnes? You looked worried.”
Agnes’s gaze jumped from me to Elspeth and back again. Her voice fell to a whisper. “Hunters, milady. There’s a gang of ’em, in the laird’s forest. Stealing deer, I expect.”
I stared at the forest standing tall behind the cluster of huts. “I don’t suppose they’ll take too much.” But, as soon as I’d said it, I could tell that she wasn’t worried about the theft. Something else was bothering her.
Elspeth’s eyes stretched wide with fright. “Caitlin, look.” She raised her hand and pointed at the line of trees at the edge of the forest.
Vikings.
All around the cluster of huts, folk disappeared, pulling their little grass doors closed behind them, sealing themselves inside. Agnes snatched her baby then ordered her two girls into the hut. Elspeth and I stood outside alone, as if in some sort of spell. I snapped out of it first, then grabbed Elspeth by the hand and pulled her toward Agnes’s hut. But Elspeth fought back and tugged away.
“Elspeth,” I snarled but she pushed me off, her clear, plump cheeks now muddied with rage. Her face, normally vibrant and filled with lust for life, was contorted in loathing.
One of the Vikings stepped in front of the others, his skins swinging, his sword clanging against his leg. The men behind him looked young and eager and nothing like the monsters I’d heard so much about. They meet Elspeth’s livid gaze, then smiled and waved a welcome. A moment passed while we all stood there, eyeing each other. Then the lead Viking turned and they blended back into the trees. Elspeth began to run after them until I caught up with her and pulled her back.
“If I could shoot an arrow straight, I’d fire a hundred of them into their backs. I wouldn’t let them get away.”
“Come on,” I growled, my words hissing with anger. “Do you want to die? Because I don’t, and nor does Agnes and her darling daughters.”
Elspeth shook her head but refused to budge.
So I threatened her instead. “Come now or I’ll go to the castle and get one of the men, one of our wounded to come after you and carry you back. Do you want that? Do you want an injured man to risk his life, risk being killed by the Northmen, just for you?”
We walked silently all the way back, in single file until we were inside the castle, proper. She didn’t say another word and nor did I, not till we were safely over the bridge. I went in search of McKay, the most capable of our men left behind and told him what I’d seen.
“Did ye count how many?”
“Eight, I think. I suppose that’s not much of an invasion, more like a raiding party.”
He rubbed his jaw, deep in thought. “Could be as simple as a group of Northmen out for a day’s hunting.”
I nodded, wanting him to be right. “Agnes, one of the peasant mothers, said she saw the Northmen hunting deer, stealing our game.”
“We’ll keep the iron gate closed, just in case. Those deer are no’ easy to catch so good luck to ’em.”
I wandered off to see what Elspeth was up to now. I found her in her chamber, pacing, scratching her hands. Of course the woman was angry, most likely scared witless too, although she hid it well. The Vikings killed her husband, a man she loved with all her heart. I thought of Bern and how much his death would damage me. Quickly, I thought of something else. I was leaving this place, so it would be better if I didn’t dwell on my feelings for him.
Elspeth stood with her back to me, gazing from her small window opening. I was barely inside her room before her berating began. “Why are they in our woods? Do they know our men are gone? Do you think they’ll come near the castle? Because if they do, they’re going to feel the tip of my blade.”
“Stop it,” I said, reaching for her hand. In a burst of frustration, she’d ripped her wimple-scarf from her head, messing up her beautifully decorated plait. Someone in the castle had spent a long time threading strips of ribbon into her hair. Elspeth turned, and I saw the fire in her eyes.
“The Northmen are here, now, on our land.”
“Well, you needn’t sound so indignant. Our men are over there, in their home too, but the difference is that our men are killing families.”
“Or so we hope.”
Did Elspeth hope the Highlanders were killing women and children or did she hope that Bern and his men were still over there, alive and not dead from their battle wounds? “Stop it, Elspeth. You’re making my stomach churn.”
That night, I lay in my downstairs guest bedroom, staring up at the blackened ceiling, listening to the mice rustle in the corner. Sleep was becoming harder to come by these days. Since Bern left, I’d spent all my nights down here in this much colder guest room. Maybe Highland superstitions were rubbing off on me. I told myself I couldn’t sleep in Bern’s solar till he returned, because if I did, I might jinx his safe homecoming. Silly, I know, but his solar was our special place, and it just didn’t feel right being there, luxuriating under the furs witho
ut him.
Eventually I must have drifted off. But I felt like I’d barely been asleep before a sharp sound woke me again. Did I hear Elspeth yelling, or did I dream it? Then I heard a ruckus in the hallway. What on earth was going on? I could see flickers of light shining in from under my door which meant that someone had lit the sconces in the hallway. At this time of the night, the castle was usually tar black. The hallways were never lit. I heard another scream and bolted upright. Was the castle on fire? I grabbed a hooded cape then ran for the door. Yanking the door open, I stopped dead.
A Viking stood in the hallway, staring down at me. I recognized him as the leader from the woods earlier, one of the band of hunters that had hovered in the trees behind Agnes’s hut. The Viking looked as startled as I felt, but he recovered quicker.
“How . . . ?” I stammered, breathless now, my chest rising and fighting for air.
“Excuse me, lady,” he replied, in his broken old-world English. He removed his hand from the hilt of his sword, and I suppose his intention was to show me that I wasn’t in imminent danger. He knotted his hands together in front of him, as if to say, See, I shan’t kill you tonight. This Viking was young. I’d guess he was about twenty-five so not a lot older than me. He was a fine-looking man too, big-shouldered like Bern but lacking the dazzling aura that Bern wore wherever he went. The eyes made all the difference. This Northman was well dressed, preened, and showy in his expensive furs and fancy jewels. There was something about his stance that said, I’m in charge. Another Viking dashed passed, running along the hallway. That warrior had his blade pointed and ready.
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