His fingers clenched on the handle of his sword. He longed to be down there in the fray—and he would. But not yet. He watched and waited as his men below were pushed back towards the hill, slowly but steadily. They were outnumbered, and anyone fighting on the other side would see that they couldn’t hold out much longer. Ecgfrith’s men were growing bolder, pushing harder, certain of victory.
Just when it looked as if the Picts would be slaughtered, Bridei raised his sword high, put the fingers of his other hand to his mouth, and gave a sharp, clear whistle; the signal for retreat. His army began to turn and flee through the small valley at the base of the hill. The Saxon army, high on bloodlust and scenting victory, pursued them. Now was his moment. Bridei spurred his horse and galloped down the gentler slope on the far side of the hill, where the rest of his warriors waited. As the first Saxon soldiers rode through the pass, they barreled down on them, shouting and swinging their swords. From that moment on, the tide of victory changed.
Ecgfrith was there, at the center of the fray, and Bridei rode to meet him: his cousin and his mortal enemy. Lotex, sensing that this was the moment they had been waiting so long for, snorted and broke into an all-out run. Ecgfrith spurred his horse forward as well, and for a long moment there was only the sound of hooves pounding into the earth below and the harsh breathing of the stallions. Anyone watching would have seen nothing but a blur of flying dirt and limbs as the two kings hurtled toward each other, each hell bent on the other’s destruction.
Their swords met with a sickening clash and screech of metal, and later some would claim that sparks flew from the blades with the impact. It should have been an even fight, but one man had more to fight for, and more rage built up inside of his soul.
“My people will be free!”, Bridei roared into the wind as he swung a final time. The blow was swift and clean, a good death, worthy of a king. As Bridei watched his enemy fall, he felt all of the fight leave him.
This was it, then. He had accomplished what he had set out to do ten long years ago. His people would be free now, his grandfather’s lands returned. It was everything he’d always wanted—everything he’d worked so hard for. So why did he feel so hollow? Ah yes, he knew why. His heart had been ripped from his chest not long ago.
Consumed with his thoughts, he didn’t see or hear the Saxon warrior come up behind him with his sword raised.
“Bridei!” Sten was racing toward him, teeth gritted and weapon held high, a below rising in his chest. For a split second Bridei thought his own man meant to kill him, until he saw the Saxon spin around on his horse to avoid Sten’s sword. Sten finished him off easily, then slumped a little, panting with exertion and relief.
Bridei clasped his arm. “Thank you.”
Sten nodded with a tight smile that said so much more than words ever could. All was forgiven between them.
It was already dusk when the fighting finally ended. The last of Ecgfrith’s army had fled to the south, but Bridei had let them go. He had won, and Northumbria would be in upheaval for months if not years as a new king was instated. He had time now to rest and enjoy his hard-earned victory.
“What do you want us to do with Ecgfrith’s body?”
“Give him to the Christian priests. They will want to bury him in their way.” A lesser man might have cut off Ecgfrith’s head and hung it at the gates of Tallorc, but Bridei prided himself on his goodwill. In his mind, the Christian custom of burying the dead beneath the dark, heavy earth instead of setting their spirit free with fire was enough of a punishment.
“Set up camp, and start retrieving the dead and wounded”, he ordered. There was still much work to be done in the aftermath of battle.
As she rounded the hill, somehow Nessa knew exactly what she would see. The light of dozens of torches, flickering against the inky blackness of the night. This was the very scene she had once gone looking for with her friends, hoping to catch a ghostly echo of this epic battle as others had. But now…now she was actually here. Would she too become a part of the scene imprinted here for all of time? The thought sent a shiver up her spine. Her heart pounded harder. The rich coppery tang of blood and the scent of freshly kicked-up earth was thick on the breeze.
Was he alive? She both dreaded the answer and desperately needed to know, and so she rode closer, towards the side of the hill where the light glowed brightest.
The make-shift camp was lit by dozens of torches stuck into the ground at various heights, but the eastern side shown even more brilliantly; a conflagration of fiery brightness like a miniature sun. That was where the wounded were being laid out, and the extra light was needed, she presumed, to tend their wounds.
Suddenly Bridei appeared out of the gloom, and she knew him instantly, even before she could see his face. He was carrying a warrior, limp and bleeding in his arms. His huge biceps bulged and strained with the weight of the almost equally large man, but still he knelt and laid him gently on the ground within the circle of torch-light. When he stood again, he glanced up, and that is when he saw her.
“Bridei.” His name left her lips on a sob.
All of the breath left his lungs in an instant. The woman he had yearned for; the woman he had once thought he loved—was standing right before him. He suddenly felt as if his heart had permanently lodged itself in his throat.
“Nessa.”
The only thing in the world he wanted in that moment was to wrap her so tightly in his arms that she could never get away again. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
She had left him once already, and it had torn his very soul. He’d never known a man could feel that much pain. It was that pain that rose up in him now, wrapping around his heart like a vice, mingling with his considerable pride into a bitter liquid that pulsed through his veins.
She slid off the back of her horse and came towards him, stumbling a little as her eyes clouded with tears. “Bridei…I…”
He reached out and placed two trembling fingers firmly over her mouth, silencing her. He shook his head. “You chose another man. When I would have given you the world.”
Her face fell, along with a few of the tears. “I was wrong. I was scared and confused, and I made a mistake. I came back because I wanted you more than I wanted anything else in this world. I wanted you more.”
He dropped his hand, hating that it was still shaking. He forced himself to look away. “Go back, Nessa.”
She raised her chin. It was quivering, as if she was on the verge of tears. “I can’t go back. I can never go back. And I don’t want to. Please! At least listen to me, let me explain!”
“I have work to do”, he said coldly, but inside, he was being torn apart. His pain and pride were warring with the trembling need to take her in his arms, and he knew now what it must feel like to be eviscerated. From this day forward, he would be able to truly sympathize when he watched a man be executed.
She sniffled, her eyes bright with pain. “Okay. Then I’ll help with the wounded. I…I took first aid in college.”
He had no idea what she was talking about, but if she wanted to help, he wouldn’t stop her. They needed all the hands they could get, and he couldn’t even think about this right now…what this all meant.
Nessa’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene before her. There were bodies everywhere, some living and others most likely already dead, with dozens of people tending them. Most of the people who were frantically staunching wounds and splinting bones were women, but there were men as well, most of them older and perhaps past their warrior days.
Overwhelmed, Nessa scanned the crowd, looking for anyone familiar that she might latch onto for guidance. Her heart jumped with relief when she spotted Veda, bent over a wounded man, holding a cloth tightly to his leg. Nessa felt a little spark of joy at seeing her friend again and quickly headed in her direction, stepping around bodies as she went. Veda had been there when she’d first crawled out of the well, and the two of them had been growing closer every day…until she left with Nathan.<
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She cleared her throat, not wanting to startle her with her sudden appearance. Veda looked up and gasped when she saw her, her mouth falling open. Then a smile spread across her face.
“Nessa! I thought for a moment I was seeing a ghost! You’ve come back!”
She nodded, her own smile a little bit uncertain. She hadn’t really prepared herself for how anyone else besides Bridei might react to her sudden return. As for Bridei… well, she knew she had hurt him badly, and she was going to have to be patient and earn his trust and forgiveness, when all she really wanted was to walk into his arms as if she’d never left. But now that she was here, she also realized that she had needed the closure she’d gotten by going back and saying goodbye, to Gram, and to her old life. Now, she could pour her entire heart and soul into this time and place with no regrets.
“I have. I’m back. I’m back for good this time.” Her voice quavered, but she rallied, getting her emotions firmly under control for the moment. There were men in desperate need of care and she couldn’t fall apart. Everything else could come later. “I’m here to help, what can I do?”
“Anything you can. The worst ones are on this side. The rest can wait a while. There are needles and thread behind me in the box. Salve is in the black pot, and bandages are in the basket.”
Nessa felt her stomach clench at the thought of sewing up a wound, but she shook it off. She knew how to sew as well as anyone, and these men needed help. So what if she’d never actually sewed human flesh? It couldn’t be that different than mending fabric, right? She grabbed a lantern, a threaded needle, and a damp cloth, and found her first patient. It was a man who had a gash on his thigh, from a sword blade, she assumed. She began wiping the blood and dirt from the wound, trying to pretend she knew what she was doing. The man raised his head and looked at her.
“I know you, don’t I?”
“Do you?” Nessa couldn’t be sure she was even welcome among these people anymore. She didn’t know what had happened after she left, or what explanation might have been given for her disappearance.
“Aye, you’re the King’s lass.”
Her lips pressed together in a tight smile. “Aye. I was.” She tied a knot in the end of the thread. “This may hurt a little. I’m sorry.”
“Ah, I swear to you lass, I won’t feel a thing. I have too much pain everywhere else.”
The first time she poked the needle through living skin, her stomach rolled and she felt a little dizzy, but after the fourth or fifth stitch, she realized it wasn’t so bad. When she had finished, she had to admire her handiwork: it was as neat and even a sewing job as she’d ever done.
After each patient was tended and deemed stable enough, he was loaded onto a three wheeled wagon that reminded her of a chariot, to be brought back to Tallorc. The living would go first, Veda told her. Then the dead would be brought home and burned together on a huge pyre, honored as fallen heroes and assured special favor with the gods.
They worked through the night and into the next morning, until even the most minor cuts were stitched and the last wounded man was either on his way home, or waiting for one of the many wagons to return for another trip.
Nessa plopped down onto the ground, exhausted and covered with blood and grime, but proud that she had at least been able to help. Some of the more severely wounded probably wouldn’t live long, but most would make it home to see their families one last time. She couldn’t let herself think about that though. Her emotions were already running too high. She had watched for Bridei all night as she worked, but she had never seen him. Either he’d been busy elsewhere, or he hadn’t wanted to come near her. Eventually Veda came over and sat down next to her with a sigh.
“What a night that was.”
Nessa nodded somberly.
“Are you alright?”
“Aye. I will be.” She glanced around again.
“He’s probably on the battlefield still”, Veda said, knowing whom she searched for. “Gathering the dead and all of their belongings.”
“Oh. Well, it doesn’t really matter. He’s so angry at me. I know how badly I’ve hurt him.” She wiped at the tears welling in her eyes, realizing too late that she had probably just smeared blood all over her face. “I have to explain to you, Veda…”
“You don’t need to…I know about…I mean I know where you came from.” Veda but a comforting hand on her arm.
“But I left without telling you, or anyone. I was scared, and so confused, and I panicked. I had been trying to get back home for so long. But as soon as I got there, I realized it was a mistake. I came back because I belong here, Veda, with all of you. I just hope it’s not too late.”
“I understand Nessa, I do. I’ve thought about it often since you left and we found out the truth of where you’d come from. I’m sure I would have done the same thing, for a chance to see my home and family again. In fact I know I would have.”
Nessa reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Veda. It means so much to hear you say that.”
After the last wagon load left, everyone else followed on horseback. Nessa rode alongside Veda for a while, but her gaze kept shifting to Bridei, who was riding farther ahead. All she wanted to do was talk to him and explain before all the emotion she was feeling ate her up inside. Somehow she needed to make him understand that it was him all along, and that she hadn’t really wanted to leave. Somehow.
“Go”, Veda told her, nodding towards the king. “And good luck.” She smiled and reached over to pat Nessa’s shoulder.
It was all Nessa could do to urge her mare to go fast enough to catch up to him, but at last she managed to kick, squeeze and prod the horse alongside his.
Her heart pounded. Had she ever been so nervous? “Bridei, please, can I talk to you?”
He didn’t look at her, and her chest ached with regret.
“Talk to me about what?”
“About…us.”
“There is no us, Nessa.”
“But there was.”
“Aye, there was. But now there is me, and there is you, but there is no us.”
Tears threatened, but she held them at bay. Barely. Had she really thought this would be a happy reunion? No. Desperation clawed at her chest. She knew the depth of his hurt and anger. She couldn’t blame him; she would have felt the same.
“Would you please just give me the chance to explain? I came back! I came back to you…” Oh god, she even sounded desperate.
He pulled his horse to a sudden stop, and the beast arched his neck in protest. This time he looked at her, and his eyes were filled with hurt and rage. “After you betrayed me with another man!” She could see the pounding pulse in his neck.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry. I panicked. I know that’s no excuse, but he told me my grandmother had died alone without me, and I didn’t even think. But I didn’t betray you, Bridei, I swear to you, Nathan never touched me. I never betrayed you!”
“I’m through talking.” He spurred his horse into a gallop, leaving her behind in the dust. Literally.
Bridei knew he had to get away from her before he threw his pride away and gave in to everything that was clamoring inside of him. The urge to pull her into his arms. The urge to kiss her so hard that she wouldn’t be able to draw a breath. The urge to forgive her everything as long as she promised to stay with him forever. And the urge to strip her bare and drive his cock so deep in her that she screamed his name. His name. No one else’s.
They rode straight through the day at a fast clip, and arrived home by nightfall. He had returned to Tallorc triumphant, and his people cheered and called his name. He held his sword high in the air and shouted at the top of his lungs, his horse dancing in tight circles at the command of his thighs against the stallion’s flanks. This was the hour he had been fighting for since the moment he became King of his people. He had never imagined that it would be so bittersweet.
Nessa watched from the far edge of the crowd, and despite everything, pride swelled
up in her chest. Bridei had done what no one else could: routed the Saxons and freed his people from slavery and a lifetime of paying tribute, uniting them again as a single Pictish nation under one King.
Her hand slid to her stomach, cradling the tiny new life growing there. He just needed some time. She could wait. After all, she had nothing else in this new world but time. Veda caught the motion of her hand, and though Nessa quickly moved it away, Veda raised an eyebrow in question, then her eyes became knowing. The look on Nessa’s face was, evidently, answer enough.
“Come in Nessa dear”, Meara called from behind the door.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your emotions ride ahead of you on the breeze. I felt the sorrow and frustration some time before you arrived.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She really didn’t mean to be bringing everyone down. She had been avoiding Meara since her return, mostly because Nessa hated to put her in an awkward position with the king. Who, incidentally, was still shunning her with a vengeance. Or, more accurately, pretending she didn’t exist at all.
“No worries”, Meara told her with a gentle smile. “Sit. Tea?” She held up a clay cup questioningly.
“Aye. Thank you.” Nessa sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m here because…”
“I know why you’re here”, Meara interrupted. “But let’s make sure everything is clear, once and for all, shall we? Tell me why you left, and why you came back, and then maybe I can help you.”
Nessa drew in a deep breath. “My coming here the first time was an accident. I left behind—quite suddenly and without warning—my entire life. I had my family there, and a man, Nathan, that I had…promised myself to. When Nathan showed up here so suddenly…I felt so guilty because I… because I had been with someone else. And I had even been happy, while all that time my grandmother had been dying alone. I let that guilt and sense of loyalty guide me, and I shouldn’t have. It should have been my heart that I was listening to. I know that now. I came back because my old world was falling apart, and all I wanted was to be here, with the man that I…that I love.”
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