by Diana Knight
“Dance with me!” She said and pulled at his arm. The summer heat mixed with the torchlight of fire made his skin layer in sweat.
“Oh no. I don’t think I can.” He said wiping his brow, he hoped she would think he was exhausted.
“Come on!” She said and pulled him harder.
Marren next down on his knees until he was eye level with the young Macleod. Maria looked at him strangely and leaned close as he whispered.
“I don’t think you would want that my lady. I cannot dance. I do not know how. I would only embarrass the Macleod family.” Marren said with an embarrassed smile. Maria let out a high-pitched giggle and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“It’s ok. I won’t tell anyone.” She said and ran back of with her mother.
With Marren safe from the traditional Scottish dances for now, he turned his gaze back over to his wife. The dance floor was covered in a mixture of red, yellow, green, and blue cloth. He could not see her dark red hair anywhere in the mixture of people. He could not hear her soft voice or the way her laugh cleared away the clouds. He looked over to Mulla and saw she was alone with the other mothers from the city. To the left he could not see her either, but what he did see was William Macleod’s glare staring deep into his soul. Marren had to find her, quickly. He ran through the dancing ground, he felt the fingers touch his bare chest and gesture for a dance. Marren could smell the sweat from the group of people embracing and clasping hands. He could hear the music of the bagpipes continuing to play and the sounds of laughter and shouts of victory were ringing in his ears. That was when he finally saw her. Lena was dancing on the other side of the square with her hand wrapped rather tightly around a man in commoners clothing. He felt the heat rise to his face, his fingers clenched tightly into a fist. Marren bit down hard onto his jaw and pulled at the mans shoulder. He turned to Marren and pulled his grasp from Lena.
“Get off her.” Marren said and pushed him rather roughly to the ground. Lena looked shocked, almost afraid of what he had just done.
“We were dancing. Don’t hurt him.” Lena said extending her hand to help him up.
“It did not look like it would lead to just dancing.” Marren said accusing her in his voice and trying to swat her hand from helping the commoner up.
Lena pushed at him. Something he was not expecting and took a step back. He bumped into another couple dancing and it cause a reaction across the dancefloor until the music was all but muted. Everyone stared at the three of them, and at Lena helping up the man from the ground. As soon as he was up he swallowed hard and stared at Marren. Marren squinted his eyes at him and hinted him to leave with a tilt of his head. The man followed.
“Why were you dancing with him?” Marren said, everyone was still quiet.
“If you wanted anything different maybe you should have tried dancing with me!” Lena shouted at him.
There were a few gasps around the crowd, but other than that only the torch firlight crackle could be heard. There was tight tension in the air, and Marren was staring sharply at Lena’s eyes. He could see he was in the wrong, but now it was too late to turn back. As he tried to walk away he felt himself collide into yet another person. Only this time it was as if that person was a brick wall. When he turned around to see who it was he wished it was in fact just a brick wall.
“Is there a problem?” Will Macleod’s voice was deep and throaty. His face was red from the stain of ale but he still stood sturdy.
“No.” Lena said and started to walk away. Her father grabbed her arm sharply and pushed her back next to Marren. When Marren reached out to catch her from falling she pushed him away.
“I sense there is hostility in the marriage. Was our agreement not settled? Have you bed yet?” Lord Macleod stared down on them like crumbs from bread.
Hesitantly Lena answered honestly before Marren could say a quick lie.
“N-no. No father but-”
“Elena. Silence.” He said and turned to Marren.
Marren felt the lump catch in his throat. The entire city was out celebrating the victory, and now all the eyes were on him and why he had not brought his wife into his bed. A simple task accomplished easily by most. For him it was something different, he did not love her. She did not love him. When he looked at her all he saw was the death of his brother. Though there would be no explaining that to the man in front of him now.
“Take her home. Now.” Lord Macleod said and turned his back towards the dining table again.
Marren and Lena still stood still until he reached the table and grabbed another wooden cup of ale. As the liquid dripped from his lips to his beard he drank the cup with one breath. He slammed it down onto the table and the wooden cup splintered in his hand. The sound of the wood slamming sent a sting of fear through Marren making the hair on his neck stand up straight.
“Now!”
Marren turned to see Lena was pulling at his hand towards the dark city streets. They were going home now, but he would not be forced to bed.
He saw the way she stared out the cracks of the window. Today was going to be hard for her, yet also relieving. She walked around wrapped in the thin wool blanket, underneath her was nothing but skin. The summer heat was getting thicker, and with that made for restless night for her in her sleeping gown. Marren had never been one for sleeping with covers, she had seen all of him by the second night. She still avoided her eyes from between his legs, but it was more amusing to him now than anything. He found his eyes searching for a gap in her blanket, to see her long bare legs or more. When she walked away from the window she must have seen his eyes staring as she pulled the blanket tighter around her. Her auburn hair was long and laying across her shoulders and down her back. He wanted to touch it, it looked so soft. Yet there was still tension. Even four days after the victory celebration she was still tense when talking. Today seemed different however, today she seemed sad. He did not blame her. Her family was going back to Colreed, the small village on the other side of the island. It used to be her home town, it used to be her dream to come and live in Silver Port. She would hear the traders and the crab deliverers talk about the magic of Silver Port, but now she seemed to be wishing for the soft dirt floors of Colreed. The city was nothing but a campground. They had wooden houses and dug into the ground for a floor. It was almost barbaric the way they lived, it was nothing like the way the English lived in clay homes and stone towers. The Colreed village was a sacred place for the Macleod family, and that included Lena. Although he would never understand it, he had to respect it. He once had a small village like that, it housed his family and kept his village safe. The day the English came to claim it still sent a burn into his heart. They took the women into the huts to cleanse them from their Scottish blood, they took the young children away from their mothers, and sent the men to their camps to learn how horrible their Scottish blood was. It was torture, manipulation, and more. The only reason his sister and mother survived was because Manard had hidden them underground and helped them escape. He was the hero of the family, and now he was gone. Marren felt his body stiffen at the thought of what the English did to him. He let out a breath and turned his thoughts back to Lena. She was staring at him with wide eyes, he must have been lost in thought for too long.
“They’ll be a three-day ride away. You can visit them.” Marren said, the words slipped from his mouth to comfort her. She turned and looked at him with surprise.
“I- I know. I- I know that. I just, I don’t know why they have to go so soon.” Lena said tightening the blanket around her again and turning her back.
The commotion outside their small home was growing louder. The Farewell parade would be beginning and if she was not there it would look poorly on Lord Macleod and the family. He turned his gaze from her and lifted himself into a sitting position on the bed. Touching the cold floor first thing was always the refreshing part of the morning. He wrapped the kilt around his waist and tied the sash across his chest. He was ready within seconds, as he turned ar
ound he could see she was struggling with her underdress. The dress that young women are supposed to wear to keep the dress loose across their bodies. It did not matter how loose the dress would be, he could still see the curves of her legs and the softness of her skin through the dress. He walked over uninvited and grabbed the back of the dress. She resisted him for a moment, but with time dwindling she had no choice. He took the string in his hand, he pulled up the back and saw the dress tighten and close.
“Are you going back to the east side of the city again?” Lena asked, it was the third morning in a row she had asked that. Every day was always the same. Yes.
“No.” He said in defeat.
“The boat will not be there.”
“Are you sure it was not my father’s ship?” Lena turned to him and asked.
He saw her eyes, the twinkle of innocence and the fading freckles on her nose. Her lips were rosy with a hint of red. The dry air had made her cheeks red from the wind. She was beautiful, but if there was one thing he knew. It was what the English flag looked like. There was no confusion.
“It was not your father’s ship.” He said and carefully turned her around to finish tying the back of her dress.
“Well then I hope you were just seeing things. The summer can do that to you ya know.” She said and turned to face him. Her breath was on him and it sent prickles up his arms.
“You are right. It does.” He pulled away from her and sat at their small table. The rickety chair whined as he let his weight press into it. He stared at the half-eaten bread roll for a moment trying to change the subject. He knows what he saw, but it was best not to tell her. Not right now.
As they finished their morning routine of eating dry bread from the day before and taking a small drink of well water. Lena walked out with her wooden basket in her hand and a small cloth at her wrist. He knew she was already planning on crying, her devotion to her family was impressive. Manard. He knew he had devotion as well, but the more he thought about his elder brother, the softer his hate for her became. He did not know if it was from the Scottish ale getting to his mind, or the thought that the English memories were beginning to fade. He stepped out of his small home as well, and the city sounds blasted into him. The squeaks of a rolling cart, the cries of infants, the crashing waves against the wooden docks, and the shouts of applause. It was expected of him to be at the farewell march, yet something inside his gut turned. The ship had not been seen in days. It should have been on the island by now, yet there was no word of an enemy ship making dock. The sides of the island were high in the air, guarded by cliffs and tall walls. If there was a ship coming too close they would know by now. Calm yourself. Marren took a deep breath and exhaled. It is not your job anymore. This part was true. With the Macleod clan back on the island, the Walsh men become nothing more than assistants. If anything, bad were to happen now it would not be on his head. Yet the thought still itched in his mind. If he took a horse now, he would make it to the east side of the island before midday. The Macleod clan would not march back before drowning themselves in Silver Port ale before the journey. Without another moment to change his mind he went to the stables and took a young colt from the stall. It was raring and ready to go. He slid onto its back and loped past the guarded east side if the city. The salty wind misted across his face as he rode steadily towards the empty part of the island. He thought about Lena the entire way. How his heart had become jealous at the sight of her dancing with another. He thought about the way Lena’s voice was always soft, and the night before when she laid naked in the bed he could not sleep. All he wanted to do was touch her waist, kiss her lips, and hold her tightly. His stomach rolled at the memory of even tying her dress this morning. He continued to ride out towards the east side, he could already see the crest of the cliff in his sight. He was riding out just for reassurance. He did not know where the ship had disappeared too, and that only left lingering danger in his mind. Maybe it had seen the Macleod ship and retreated in fear, maybe it had run out of food and water and needed to resupply, maybe it had found a temper some wave and was now at the bottom of the rocky beach, or maybe it was still there and hiding. Maybe it was waiting for the perfect time. Marren could not leave that up to chance, it was for his family’s safety, his new nephews safety, and Lena’s heart.
5
Chapter Five
Her father walked from the Walsh house onto his horse. His face and Marren’s father’s expression were both alike. Something they discussed disturbed them, something bad. She stood there watching her father, mother, and younger sister ride off together. On horseback were her older brothers, riding with swords on their backs and their kilt sashes across their chests. Terryn, Baret, and Neil were the front riders. They were riding in the front with the Macleod Clan flags in their right hands. Behind them strode the women, children, and traders heading to Colreed. There was a large amount of travelers who were using the Macleod clan as protection for safe passage. There was nothing on this small island that could hurt them, but they traveled alongside her father anyways. There was only one safe entrance to the island, and that was through Silver Port. The rest of the land was high on cliffsides where waves would take down even the strongest of ships. Lena still never knew what true fear was, at least that is what her father always told her. She slept each night safely, knowing no harm would find her. Lena waved to her three brothers in the front as they passed, they winked and waved back to her in goodbye. The tears were already falling to her cheeks. They’ll be back. She knew war was not over, she knew battles were still going to be fought and Sir William Wallace needed more men to fight. Her oldest three brothers would fight to their deaths for the Wallace, they were unafraid of the enemy before them but their wives were awaiting their return. Segar and Nicolas were put at the end of the caravan. Their tall steeds held them high, and Lena could hear the sighs of the women around her. Her brothers were all quite striking. Their long copper hair went to the middle of their backs, a braid on one side or the other. Their beards were light and thin, only Ferry had ever grown a thick beard like her father but now his hair would grow no further. Lena shook the thoughts from her mind and continued to smile as she watched her family leave. Their size shriveled in her vision as they made their way through the green hillsides of the island. The cheers from the Silver Port villagers faded, and everyone began to resume their daily routine. Lena cupped her face in her hands as she leaned against a wooden post. She felt a presence come close to her, they were breathing slow and steady. Lena turned to see Marren, his face out of breath and his eyes wide. He saw her tears but merely swallowed hard.
“I didn’t see it.” Marren said and let out a long exhale.
Lena let out a breath she did not know she was holding. It was good to hear the English had ran away, their island was now safe once again. It would seem for now at least everything would go back to how it was before. That was her thought, at least until she saw Lord Walsh striding over to them.
“Marren, Lady Walsh, with me. Now.” His voice was sharp as daggers, and Lena was far too nervous to dispute.
Malcolm grabbed Marren and pulled him aside, Marren grabbed Lena lightly to keep her beside him. When Lena saw the face his father was making, she could see it was the same expression before.
“You two are going to be the death of me. Lord William has asked me once again why the clans are not bound. I look like a fool, I do not like looking like a fool. How am I supposed to explain it?” He sputtered out. Lena felt the air of his breath strike her, his irritation was clear.
Marren only looked at him blankly but Lena knew he understood. Binding the clans. She hated how it was even said. Her father was a loving man, a strong man, but he was also an impatient man. He would not be willing to wait much longer. Part of the negotiation to the marriage was not being fulfilled. It was her fault, and Marren’s. They were not ready, they were not prepared. She did not want it, and neither did he.
“We- have-” Marren began to make an excuse.
“You need to bring a child here, it needs to have Walsh and Macleod blood in its veins, and it needs to be here two months ago. Go. Now.” Malcolm began shoo-ing them. Lena stepped away with a scrunched up look on her face.
“Now? What do you mean?” Marren was now being pushed by Malcolm towards their home, Lena caught on right away.
“You want us to do it… Now?” She asked. Her eyes were wide.
“Don’t make meh sit outside the door lad. Get on home now.” Malcolm said and kicked up his foot knocking Marren in hind end rather hard.
Marren started walking away in front of Lena with an angry look on his face.
“Don’t forget your wife, can’t make one on your own.” Malcolm was now shouting and laughing a belly filled chuckle.