by Barbara Bard
“As I said,” Simon said as he wiped the blood from his blade. “There is no room for fear or weakness…I suggest that you all eat and rest. Tonight, we seek out to do more of God’s bidding.”
The Hands of God followed Simon’s orders without question. The body of the trembling man was then tossed down into a ravine where it was picked apart by a pack of wild dogs.
Chapter 11
Finlay poured his son two fingers worth of whiskey, the entire tavern filled to the brim with the entirety of the Baird clan. Eamon’s head was slightly hung as he took the drink, unable to look his father directly in the eye.
Finlay smirked. “Ye are still dwelling on things,” he said.
Eamon nodded. “Aye…I just dinnae how I let this happen.”
“It does nae matter, me son. What happened happened. There is naw turning back the hands of time.”
Eamon sighed, sipping at his whiskey and hoping that it would numb the thoughts running rampant through his mind. “What will happen tae her?”
Finlay waved his hand. “Naw harm will come tae her.”
“I ken that, father…but I ken ye. I ken that ye are debating weather or nae tae expel her from the village.”
Finlay sat back, sighing and looking away. “I hae tae make the best decision fer the people, Eamon. Ye ken that.”
“She cannae return to Sir Ian’s, father. That man was doing nae a thing mair than grinding her down.”
Finlay nodded. “I ken of Sir Ian. I hae crossed paths with him afore.”
“Then ye ken what a bastard of a man he is. Allowing Agatha tae return there, especially noo, will be tantamount tae ordering her own execution.”
“As a I said, me son, I am thinking through the options. I will nae make a decision that will let harm befall her. I wish that ye could trust me mair than tae think I would allow something like that tae happen.”
Eamon said nothing as he nursed his whiskey. He cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of Finlay’s homestead, wondering if Agatha was doing alright.
“She is a fine woman,” Finlay said with a wry smile. “I can see why ye did what ye did.”
Eamon matched his father’s smile. It was uncanny how much the two of them looked alike. “Aye,” he said. “Aye, she is…”
Finlay perched forward. “She reminds me of yer mother.”
Eamon squinted. “They look nae a thing a like. And she is fearful. Mother never was as frightened as this woman appears tae be.”
“That is because ye only saw yer mother when she was making sure tae show that she was strong. But she had fears. She had doubts. She had regrets.”
“Then why did I never see them?”
“Because, me son, and only one day will ye understand, it is important fer a parent tae nae show their children signs of fear, at least nae while they are young. But ye are a grown man noo. I hae expressed tae ye on plenty of occasions the doubts and worries that plague me.”
Eamon nodded, leaning in and lowering his tone. “Aye,” he said. “And I feel that they are the worst they hae ever been fer ye.”
Finlay sighed. “Indeed,” he said with a depleted timbre. “These…Hands of God are like nae a thing I hae ever witnessed afore.”
Eamon jutted his chin, his tone and thoughts shifting from Agatha to those of the rogues plaguing the Highlands. “Sir Ian,” he said, “told me that the McManus clan has run in with them afore. He believes that they may possess some knowledge on how tae go aboot finding them.”
“Then we should converse with them,” Finlay said. “Their clan still resides in the same location nae far fae here.”
A nod from Eamon. “Then I shall gae tae see them first thing in the morning. Time is of the essence. I fear that an attack from them is imminent.”
“I hae gone ahead and put several men on rotating watch throughout the village. I hae them reporting back tae me regularly. I also sent scouts tae the outer rim of the village tae make sure that we are keeping a watchful eye on everything. If a wild animal should poke its head out of the forest, we will ken aboot it right away.”
Just then, Gavina entered the tavern, sighing and stretching from having assisted in checking in with the very individuals that Finlay had assigned to take watch.
“Nephew,” Gavina said, patting Eamon on the shoulder. “Are ye alright? I heard aboot the run-in ye had with the band of thieves during yer excursion.”
Eamon shrugged. “They were amateurs at best. It was an easy attack tae fend off.”
Gavina cozied up alongside Eamon and took the whiskey from his hands, polishing it off and breathing a sigh of relief. “Rose just introduced me tae Agatha.” She leveled a curious gaze at her nephew. “I hae heard all aboot what transpired.”
Eamon sat back. Looked away. Crossed his arms. “I suppose ye are gonnae tell me what a poor decision I mad.”
Gavina shook her head and jutted her chin toward Finlay. “Naw. That is yer father’s job…but after talking with Agatha, I can see why ye did what ye did.” She smirked, nudging Eamon in the ribs playfully.
“Dinnae start,” Eamon said with a smile.
“What? She is a very lovely-looking woman.”
Eamon huffed. “Aye…Aye, she is.”
Gavina cast a look over her shoulder. “Rose is with her noo. She is asking aboot ye.”
Eamon looked to his father for approval. Finlay nodded. “Gae,” he said. “Gae and speak tae her.”
Eamon took the remnants of the whiskey from Gavina and finished it off, standing from the table and saying not another word as he left the tavern.
Finlay waited for his son to be out of earshot before he said to Gavina: “I swear, naw matter how old I get, me children still find a way tae bring trouble…”
Gavina laughed. Nodded. “Aye. I feel the same.”
“Yer children are young. Ye hae a ways tae goo afore ye experience it fully.”
“Eamon has always been a son tae me as well, Finlay. I hae witnessed his mistakes as he has grown.”
“This is perhaps the biggest one he has made yet.”
“He made a decision based on love—both of us hae been there afore.”
“Aye. But it could nae hae come at a worse time. These Hands of God are lurking somewhere oot there. I fear that the moment they will strike is but hours away.” He held his head in his hands, Gavina noted the weariness in his voice.
“Perhaps ye should rest,” Gavina said. “Ye put tae much strain on yerself.”
Finlay shook his head. “Naw. I must stay vigilant. There is much tae be done…”
Gavina reached out and rested her hand on top of Finlay’s. “Rest noo. At least fer a few hours. I will take care of the men on watch. Ye will drive yerself mad if ye dinnae get some sleep.”
Finlay smiled and winked at his niece. “Just a couple of hours,” he said. “Then I will return.” He stood, headed towards the door.
Gavina ordered another drink before returning to the men on watch, just as concerned as Finaly was that an attack on the village was imminent.
***
Eamon entered Finlay’s residence. Seated at the table near the door were Rose and Agatha, conversing about something that was making them both smile and laugh. They ceased immediately as soon as Eamon entered the room.
“What is so funny?” Eamon asked.
Rose winked at Agatha. “Nae a thing,” she said as she stood. “I maist goo. I promised Gavina I would meet her fer a drink. I shall leave ye two tae yer own conversation.” She stepped around Eamon, squeezing his arm as she left the room and headed for the tavern.
Agatha stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in the new garb that Rose had given her. “Hello, Eamon,” she greeted with a smile.
Eamon returned the smile. “Hello, Agatha. Are ye well?”
She nodded. “Would, um…would you like to take a walk?”
Eamon nodded as well. “Aye…that sounds quite pleasant.”
They left the home and began pacing through the village. N
ot a word was said for several moments as they lingered near each other, occasional bumping up against one another and feeling their hearts race as they did so.
“You have a wonderful family,” Agatha said, finally breaking the silence. “I like them very much.”
Eamon nodded. “Aye. They hae been there fer me me entire life. One could nae ask fer a better clan tae be surrounded by.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
Eamon squinted. “I dinnae much aboot yer family…what were, I mean, what are they like?”
“I don’t know,” Agatha said. “Most of them perished before I had conscious memories of them.”
“Really?”
A nod. “Yes. I am afraid so. My father was killed when I was very young. My mother died of sickness not long after that. My aunt raised me, but she was no bargain when it came to having a headstrong elder to look up to.”
“What dae ye mean?”
Agatha sighed. “She was quite abusive. Very religious. Nothing I ever did was right in her eyes. Eventually, I ran away. I was a teenager at that point. So many English lords tried to wed me, but…as I said before, I finally rebuked the one man wielding a kind of power that put me in the position I landed in with Sir Ian.”
Eamon jutted his chin. “Ye will nae gae back there. I promise.”
“Is it not up to your father what happens to me?”
“You will nae be harmed. That I promise.”
“I do not sense that I will. Your family has welcomed me with open arms. I just…I fear that I will be forced to return to serve Sir Ian. If I do…well, I am positive that it will end with my head in a noose.”
Eamon stopped, grabbing Agatha gently by her arm and pulling her in close. “As I said afore—that will nae happen. I will dae everything in my power tae see that it is so…”
They connected gazes, the two of them feeling their hearts racing faster than they ever had before. After a moment, Agatha cast a glance over Eamon’s shoulder toward the empty stables dimly lit and far away from any of the other villagers.
Eamon returned the smile, Agatha then leaning in and pressing her lips against his. Eamon pulled away, somewhat wincing.
“I dinnae ken if I can dae this,” Eamon said.
Agatha led him by the hand. “Come,” she said. “I want to show you something.”
***
Agatha then led Eamon over to a pile of hay in the corner, Eamon casting a quick look to the door to doublechecked that he had locked it on their way inside.
“I cannae dae anything that will defile ye,” Eamon said.
Agatha shook her head. “That does not mean we cannot please each other in other ways.” He added.
Eamon bit his lip—thinking some more. “Are ye sure?”
Agatha nodded. Smiled. “Most definitely.”
Agatha began kissing Eamon’s neckline showing him the confidence she felt deep inside. She hooked his arms around his neck, the two of them then locking lips and feeling the sweat perspiring off their bodies. It felt as if time itself slipped away, the drunken cries from the villagers inside of the tavern covering the sounds of their secret pleasure.
After he gave her one last look as if asking for her consent, began kissing the inside of her thighs, sending tingling sparkles all across her body. Then, without a warning, buried his face between her legs. Agatha closed her eyes, feeling his tongue moving about along with the assistance of his hands. She gasped aloud at this unexpected sensation that left her almost paralyzed with pleasure. Her body felt like it was on fire, burning in the fiery blaze of passion as every pleasure synapse in her body began to ignite.
Eamon continued pleasing her with his mouth and his tongue, Agatha’s eyelids fluttering as she twitched and moaned. She felt the moment of climax approaching—closer, and closer, and closer, finally reaching it and feeling her body go slack as she cried out and bit her lip.
Eamon pulled himself away, Agatha then pulling him in close and reaching her hands down to his groin as they kissed. She grabbed a firm hold of his member, pulling and tugging and taking joy in the sounds that Eamon was making as a result. She rubbed and stroked and caressed his manhood, Eamon huffing with delight as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips firmly against Agatha’s.
Eamon moaned, his own moment of climax upon him, Agatha sensing this and rubbing him faster and harder before he completed on her belly and nearly collapsed on top of her afterwards. His legs felt weak, his entire body feeling like it had just run a mile in a flat-out sprint.
Eamon fetched a clean rag from his pocket and cleaned Agatha’s stomach, the two of them laying side-by-side as they started to catch their breath.
“My God,” Agatha said. “I feel numb…”
Eamon smiled. “Aye…the feeling is mutual…”
They kissed, Eamon coiling his arm around Agatha and holding her tight as they looked up and saw slivers of moonlight peeking in through the cracks in the roof.
“I’m starting tae feel something,” Eamon said.
Agatha furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Eamon looked her in the eye. “Fer ye. I cannae explain it…but it worries me. I hae always lost the people that I…feel things fer.”
Agatha saw the pain in his eyes, the history, the loss of his loved ones. She caressed his cheek, leaning in, kissing him and holding him close to give him comfort. They laid there for several moments, the two of them thinking of nothing more than each other as they slowly drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 12
Eamon, Finlay, and Gavina were gathered in his kitchen the following morning, discussing their next steps in regard to their pursuit of the Hands of God.
“Ye should set out soon,” Finlay said to Eamon. “I want ye tae gae with Gavina and talk tae the McManus clan. Find out what they ken. See if they hae anything that we can work with tae track these bastards down.”
“Dae ye think,” Gavina said, “that we should request their presence in our village? Perhaps it would help tae increase our numbers should an attack occur.”
Finlay nodded. “Aye. A wise move…is there any updates from our men on watch?”
Gavina shook her head. “Naw. Nae yet. They are keeping a watchful eye. If anything is oot of place, they will notify us immediately.”
Eamon, his mind focused on thoughts of Agatha, as she and Rose have taken a walk through the village. “What of the woman?” he asked his father. “Hae ye reached a decision on her fate?”
Finlay shook his head. “Nae yet…”
“Father,” Eamon pleaded, “she cannae return tae Sir Ian and his people. It will—”
Finlay held up his hand. “Ye hae explained yer side of the situation, Eamon. I understand fully that she cannae return tae Sir Ian.”
“Then what of her fate? Can she nae stay here?”
Finlay sighed. “She is Sassenach, Eamon.”
Eamon gestured to Gavina. “So was Gavina’s husband, but that did nae stop him from becoming a member of our clan.”
“I understand. But her presence here has nae doubt incited Sir Ian tae look fer her.”
Eamon clenched his fist. “I challenge him tae come here…”
Gavina and Finlay exchanged glances, both of them sensing the pugnaciousness in Eamon’s tone.
“Dinnae be foolish, nephew,” Gavina said. “We already face incredible odds going up against the Hands of God. The last thing we need is tae start a war with another clan.”
Eamon stood up from the table—pacing, on edge. “If it is nae one clan, it is another. Tell me—when has any decision been made that has nae resulted in some kind of conflict with another? All we dae is fight. Even if Agatha’s presence here did nae start a conflict, it would hae been something else that incited a war.”
Finlay pointed a finger. “Mind yer tone, me son. Ye are nae thinking rationally. Dinnae let feelings of love cloud yer judgement.”
“It is nae feelings of love, father,” Eamon insisted. “I just ken that if
we dispel Agatha from the village that a terrible fate will be in store fer her. Ye think that we are not able tae stave off an attack from Sir Ian and his clan? Doubtful. I made the decision tae bring her here. Sir Ian and his forces are maist likely hours away from confronting us…”
Finlay steepled his fingers, shaking his head as he did so. “Maist likely,” he said. “Which is why I think we need tae consider engaging in some kind of…barter.”
Eamon laughed. “Ye actually want tae negotiate with that scum?”
