by Barbara Bard
Sir Ian squinted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I am nae here tae discuss me health. I am here tae discuss the Bairds.”
Connor held out his hands. “Gae on…”
Sir Ian took a swig of whiskey, undid his belt buckle, and sat back in his chair. “The Bairds came tae me village a few days ago. A man by the name of Eamon, son of Finlay, arrived tae request supplies. They were seeking out the Hands of God.”
Connor sighed. “Savages. Rumor is that they are on a rampage throughout the Highlands.”
“I could not care less. I only care aboot the fact that Eamon stole one of my maidens, a woman by the name of Agatha.”
“And this pertains tae me how?”
“She belongs tae me. Eamon smuggled her oot of me village. When I sent me men tae confront them, several of them were killed. One of them was beheaded withoot a moment’s hesitation.”
Connor smiled. Pointed. “So…ye wish tae declare war on them.”
Sir Ian poked himself in the chest with his thumb. “They declared war on me, Connor. This cannae stand.”
“Again—what role dae I play in this?”
“We hae an alliance with ye. I request yer men, supplies, reinforcements…”
Connor shook his hand. “Our alliance stipulates that we will nae declare war on each other. That is all that alliance states. Nae a thing mair.”
Sir Ian sighed. “Then what is it ye want? What can I give ye tae persuade ye tae assist us in this plight?”
Connor stroked his upper lip with his index finger, thinking. “How much coin dae ye hae?”
Sir Ian cocked his head. “How much dae ye want?”
“Probably mair than ye are able tae give.”
“Christ, Connor! We are going in circles! Tell me! Tell me what I can give ye!”
Connor thought some more. “If ye are tae declare war on the Bairds,” he said, “then ye will hae tae destroy them all, otherwise ye run the risk of retaliation.”
“Ye hae mair than enough men tae help me accomplish that. Our forces combined will almost surely secure that victory.”
“I hae naw doubt…” Connor leaned in. “So here is what I request…if I help ye with this, then I want the remains of the Baird’s village tae be handed over tae me.”
Sir Ian squinted. “What dae ye mean?”
“We will destroy the Bairds. All of them. We will wipe them clean off the face of the earth. Once all is done, whatever supplies, rations, and coins, and remains of the village will be given over tae me.”
Sir Ian laughed. “Take it! It is yers!”
“And I request half of yer own supplies and rations as well.”
Sir Ian frowned. “What?”
“Ye heard me,” Connor said with a nod. “Ye want justice? This is the price of it. Once we accomplish this mission, I will send several of me men tae yer village tae obtain half of yer weapons, supplies, and coin.”
“Ye maist be joking!”
Connor shook his head. “I certaintly am nae.” He pressed his finger into the table to emphasize his point. “This is the price of declaring war on some of the fiercest warriors in all of the Highlands. Many men will die. Ye want yer revenge? This is the cost. Take it or leave it.”
Sir Ian threw his hands up, shocked. He sat back in his chair, weighing the options and the price of retrieving Agatha and getting revenge on the Bairds for the slights they had committed against him. Then he perched forward, pointing at Connor and saying: “I get to kill Eamon and Finlay Baird. That is me only request. I want tae take their heads myself.”
Connor smiled. “So be it…”
With a smirk, Sir Ian held up his whiskey, toasted it with Connor, and said: “Then it appears we hae a deal…”
***
Finlay strolled with Eamon through the village as the Bairdsmen set about preparing the horses and supplies for the journey ahead to track down the Hands of God.
“How dae ye feel today, me son?” Finlay asked.
Eamon shrugged. “I dinnae,” he replied. “I am conflicted.”
“How so?”
Eamon sighed. “I was up late last night. I could nae sleep.”
“What is troubling ye?”
Eamon stopped in his tracks. “I was nae thinking aboot Agatha or the turmoil we are currently facing, as odd as that may be. I was thinking aboot…mother.”
Finlay felt his heart skip a beat. “I think of her often. It is nae unnatural or wrong.”
“Father,” Eamon said. “Why is it that so much strife has occurred? Why has there been so much death and…I dinnae ken…a lack of closure with things?”
Finlay rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Because that is life, me son. There will always be a lack of resolution with certain things.”
“I cannae stand that being the case, father. It is nae right. I feel as if we continue tae remind ourselves and preach of things like that tae stave off the fact that life is…unfair.”
“Because we hae tae, Eamon. We hae tae keep fighting.”
“I am tired of fighting, father. I am tired of this war. I am tired of loving and losing everyone.”
Finlay hung his head. “Ye are nae alone, me son. Believe me. Ye are nae alone…”
Eamon puffed his chest. “So,” he said, changing topics. “Will I be leading the Bairdsmen today tae seek out the Hands of God?”
Finlay shook his head. “Naw. I hae a different task fer ye…”
Eamon prepared himself for what was coming next. “Ye hae reached a decision with Agatha.”
Finlay nodded. “Aye…I want ye tae take her tae the fishing village on the outskirts of the Highlands. There is a man there that will assist ye in taking her tae England.”
Eamon’s eyes went wide. “England? Father, she—”
“It is the right decision tae make, me son. Agatha is nae safe in these lands. It is better if ye take her as far away fae here as possible. This is the final decision, Eamon, and I need ye tae abide by it. Gavina will lead the Bairdsmen tae seek out the Hands of God. The rest is oot of our hands.”
Eamon went to protest—but Finlay held up his hand. “That is final, me son. There is naw mair discussion tae be had. Agatha is in the chapel right noo. Inform her of the plan, then come see me aboot securing supplies and horses fer yer ride tae the coast…understood?”
Eamon wanted to protest but he knew it was fruitless. Instead, he nodded, turned away, said not another word, and headed into the chapel.
Agatha was seated in the front pew, praying. A young child entered seconds later, stopping in her tracks as she saw Agatha.
“I am sorry,” the child said. “I was coming in tae practice. I will leave ye be…” she turned to exit.
“No! No!” Agatha said. “I was only praying. Please. Come in.”
The child smiled, hung her head sheepishly, and walked toward the pulpit.
“What are you practicing?” Agatha said.
The child shrugged. “A gospel.”
“You sing?”
The child nodded. “Aye…I like tae sing.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
The child shook her head. “I am nae shy aboot singing in front of others.”
Agatha smiled. “Then pay no mind to me…”
The child smiled, clearing her throat as she opened up a piece of parchment and began to sing a Scottish hymnal speaking of war, love, and loss. Agatha was mesmerized, the young child singing with a pristine voice that tugged at her heartstrings.
Halfway through the song, Eamon entered the chapel cautiously, just as enthralled with the child’s immaculate voice as Agatha was. He then cozied up alongside Agatha, smiling as they watched the young girl sing.
“She is incredible,” Agatha whispered.
Eamon nodded. “She sings at the funerals,” he whispered in reply. “She comes here every day tae practice.”
Agatha felt the tears welling up in her eyes. “I wish I were a child again. Things were so simple then.”
Eamon smiled. “Aye…I wish the same sometimes.”
The child continued to sing her hymnal, her voice reverberated through the chapel and striking a chord straight into Eamon and Agatha’s hearts.
“Me father,” Eamon said, “has reached a decision…”
Agatha looked at him apprehensively.
“I am tae take ye,” Eamon continued, “tae the coast. I am tae put ye on a boat that will deliver ye back tae England…”
The tears began to flow. “I fear a similar fate will await me back in my homeland,” Agatha said.
Eamon nodded. “Aye. I believe the same.”
“I cannot go back there, Eamon. I do not want to. I do not want to leave you.”
Eamon laid his hand on top of Agatha’s and squeezed gently. “Nor dae I…”
“Are you to take me? Will you abide by your father’s wishes?”
Eamon took his time answering, his eyes glued to the young child as her voice, like that of an angel, sung about holding on to true love and never letting it go. “Naw,” he said. “I will nae. I will take ye, but it will nae be tae the coast. We will run, Agatha, as far away as we possibly can.”
Agatha’s heart beat wildly. “You would leave your clan? Your family?”
“I dinnae want tae…but I love ye. I dinnae want tae lose yet another love in me life. We will gae, Agatha. We will make a new life together. But only if ye wish tae…”
Agatha said nothing, but the squeeze that she held on Eamon’s hand confirmed her willingness to follow him to the ends of the earth.
As soon as the young child finished her song, Agatha and Eamon set about forming a plan.
Chapter 16
The Bairdsmen were all assembled at the front of the village. Gavina was in the lead, checking her saddle and making sure that she had all the provisions necessary for the journey.
Finlay approached his niece, his hands on his hips as he surveyed his men and nodded at their dutiful postures and attitudes.
“Are ye ready?” Finlay asked Gavina.
She nodded. “Aye. All the men are set.”
“What is yer plan?”
“We ride east. The McManus clan will follow directly behind us. There are rumors that a village was burned nae far fae here. We will start there, see if we can pick up a trail tae their location.”
Finlay nodded. “A wise move. How many days dae ye think ye will be gone?”
“Four, I think. I will send one of the men back tae update ye on our progress.”
“Very well…” He rested a hand on Gavina’s shoulder. “Be strong. Keep a watchful eye on yer surroundings. These men are nae tae be trifled with.”
A nod from Gavina. “I will, Finlay. I will make sure tae keep me wits aboot me.”
They embraced, Finlay squeezing his niece tight and unable to shake the feeling that the worst of their ordeal was rearing its head on the horizon. “Be safe,” he said.
“I will,” she said.
Gavina turned to the Bairdsmen, all of them holding their heads high and waiting for their orders. “Gentlemen,” she called out. “Bring yerselves tae attention.”
They stood proud. Strong. Ready to engage in the fight.
“We embark noo,” Gavina said, “tae end this madness brought forth by the Hands of God. We will be swift in our justice. We will purge them from these lands withoot failure. Ye men are by far the finest warriors that the Highlands has ever seen. I ken, withoot a shred of doubt, that we will be victorious in our plight.”
Cheers. Raising of swords. War cries that rang out through the valley with a spine-chilling reverberation.
“Mount up!” Gavina said. “We ride!”
The Bairdsmen saddled up, along with the McManus clan, and rode off into the horizon in unison with Gavina at the lead, charging with a prideful and furious glide that echoed throughout the valley.
***
In a cave, dozens of miles from the Baird’s village, Simon turned his head up from his bible. He sniffed the air, a wry smile curling as he stood and lingered slowly towards the opening. He stood there; his head turned high as he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.
One of his men stood as well, coming up alongside Simon but keeping his distance and waiting a few moments before saying: “What is it, Simon?”
Simon took a beat to answer as he finished his prayer. He then slowly turned and rested his cold gaze on his man and clasped his hands together. “War is approaching,” he said. “The most glorious of Holy Wars that these lands will ever see…gather the men…the time to fight is now…”
***
Eamon was alone with Agatha in his bedroom inside Finlay’s home. No one else was there but them. They were seated on the edge of the bed, holding hands and finalizing their plan to run as far away as possible.
“Yer sure,” Eamon said, “that ye are willing tae dae this?”
Agatha nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am sure. It is the only thing we can do to make sure that no harm befalls either of us…but what of your father? What will happen once he discovers that you have no taken me to the coast?”
Eamon sighed. “I cannae say fer sure.”
“Will he come after ye?”
“He will nae harm me if that is what ye are asking. But it is quite possible he will send a search party after us, aye.”
“What will happen to us if he catches us?”
Eamon shrugged. “I imagine that he will sequester me and gae aboot his original plan tae take ye tae the coast.”
Agatha shook her head. “Then we run. As far as we can…but where will we go?”
Eamon held up his finger. “There is a frien of mine. He lives on the outskirts of the Highlands. A hermit. He is in his waning years, and I imagine that he will provide us sanctuary.”
Agatha held Eamon’s face in her hands. “I know how much this is asking of you…I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Ye dinnae hae tae. In fact, I think I should be repaying ye.”
“How so?”
“I want ye tae feel as I did back in the barn the other day…”
Eamon simply leaned in, gently placed his lips on Agatha’s, and kissed her. They kissed once. Then twice. Then they found themselves laying back on the bed, entangled in each other’s arms as they slowly slipped off their clothing.
Eamon rested on his back, Agatha straddling him as she slowly lifted off her shirt. She then took his hands and cupped them against her bare breasts, Eamon smiling from the pleasant and warm quality of her skin as he removed his kilt and threw it to the floor.
Eamon mounted Agatha, looking her in the eye. “Are ye sure?”
Agatha bit her lip. “I am…I am…not experienced…but I am ready nonetheless.”
Eamon slid himself inside of her, Agatha feeling a sharp pain coursing through the lower part of her body. She winced—but eventually the pain subsided, and the two of them moaning in unison as she gyrated her hips and slid back and forth on top of him in slow repetitions.
Eamon then placed Agatha on her back, placing himself back inside of her as they pressed their flesh together and locked lips. He began to thrust, slow at first, then increasing his speed before they climaxed together and collapsed in each other’s arms. He was gentle, making sure to handle Agatha with the utmost care.
They laid there for a few moments, catching their breath and exchanging kisses.
“Will this ever change?” Agatha said. “The heat between us?”
Eamon smiled. “I doubt it very much. With how I feel aboot ye…” He laughed. “I highly doubt it.”
Agatha returned the smile. “Sounds like you fancy me, Highlander.”
Eamon gently kissed her forehead. “Mair and mair everyday…”
They locked lips, feeling the intensity of their emotions being exchanged in their kiss. They held on for a while, embracing each other and feeling the most amount of comfort they had in a long time.
After a short while, Eamon pulled his lips away, stroked Agatha’s hai
r gently with his fingers, and said: “We maist get dressed…it is time.”
***
Eamon and Agatha, dressed and walking toward their horses with their supplies in hand, approached Finlay.
Finlay, sensing something off in Eamon’s gaze, said: “Are ye ready?”
Eamon nodded. “Aye. I hae informed Agatha of the plan. She is mair than willing tae return tae England.”
