by Fiona Faris
They moved forward, going further and further into the town when finally they reached a small building. Aithe could only assume it was where the head of the mine lived and ran his business. The men climbed off their horses and turned around to glare at Aithe.
“Ye’ll be mightae sorry if ye try tae escape again! Dinnae go anywhere. We are gonna sell ye tae this man and buy ourselves some wenches, aren’t we? He turned to look at his partner who was nodding and looking back and forth between them. Aithe couldn’t imagine what that man’s life was like, always obeying the other man, always acting as if he was the smartest of the bunch.
The men turned and entered the small building, shutting the door behind them. Aithe knew it would be his only chance to get away. He quickly sat down to rest his weary legs, and he got to work, turning his wrists over and over to stretch out the knot, hoping that, in their drunken stupor, the two men had failed to adequately tie him together.
Thankfully, the ropes came loose, and he managed to slip one hand out. With the other, he loosened the knot and got himself free. Aithe stood quickly and ran with all his might. He knew not where, but ran anyway.
Behind him, he heard the man’s voice. “Go get ‘im, Mick!”
He turned and saw the shorter of the men, who he now knew as Mick, running after him. Aithe’s leg was badly injured, and without any food or water for much of the day, he knew he would not be able to get away. Still, he tried. He ran, hobbling with each step, but within moments, he was overpowered… would he never escape this fate?
“We already sold ye. We cannae have our property runnin’ away from us! Come on now!” The man pushed Aithe to the ground and bent over to pick him up. He tried to fight, even swung at the bloody man, but he was too weak, and with little energy or fight left in him at that point. He knew there was nothing he could do but wait out his next chance of an escape.
Once they were back by the small building, Aithe was put in shackles and handed over to the man who ran the mines.
He looked at Aithe’s mangled leg, “Ye dinnae tell me he had a weak leg.” He looked irritated and regarded Aithe as less of a person.
The men shrugged, “Ye dinnae ask!” They bounced the satchel that held their payment and laughed as they strolled back to their horses.
“Time tae get ourselves a wench!” The taller one said to the other. And they both dragged their horses away from the building, laughing with each other.
The mine owner grabbed at Aithe’s chains and carried him away, dragging him towards a smaller barn. He looked at Aithe and mumbled something about making a terrible purchase.
“This here barn is where ye’ll be livin. There are other men inside. I have eyes on it at all times. Ye’ve been bought fer labor purposes, and I will nay have my men runnin’ off. If ye leave before the year is up, I’ll have ye killed. At the end of the year, ye’ll get a wee bonus if ye work hard enough. Dae ye understand?” Aithe turned to look at the man and nodded solemnly. Once again, a life in the mines. He had only just escaped, and he was back to them so soon. A year was a long time. What would happen during that time? Would Alice be alright? Would he even be able to find her again?
The mine owner banged on the barn door, and it was promptly opened.
A young man opened the door, “Good day, Sir,” He added quickly, as the mine owner reached over and undid the shackles around Aithe’s hands. He tossed Aithe towards the man.
“This lad is goin’ tae be joinin’ us tomorrow, I’ll be needin’ ye tae tell him all he needs tae know. I expect all of ye tae keep an eye on him.” After he saw that the man guided Aithe inside, he turned and left. The young man shut the door behind him.
Aithe stumbled around, still bound by his hands before he collapsed on the floor in the middle of the barn. He looked around and saw rows of beds for all the workers. The inside looked less like a barn than he expected, but it was still a sterile place. Nothing like a real home. A few men quickly rushed to Aithe’s side and picked him up.
“Hey there, lad, come on now. Let us get ye tae a bed.” They guided him over to an empty bed with a trunk at the foot of it. They sat him down. Another man quickly appeared with a bowl of broth and a small piece of bread. They studied him, realizing how many wounds he had. One looked at his leg and winced.
“Ye’ve been through a tough spot, it seems,” one whispered, holding the bowl of broth. Aithe quickly reached for it, though he was swaying with dizziness. He tilted the bowl and drained the soup in one quick gulp. The men looked to each other, worried about his health.
Someone handed him a glass of water, and he drained it, though it tasted metallic to the tongue. He was grateful to these men who knew nothing of him but were so willing to help. They were caring for him as a brother. Though, he supposed, they were brothers in one way or another.
Aithe tried to lift his legs to lay back onto the bed but struggled. One man helped him. He set his tired legs on the bed and stared at the ceiling, cringing at how his day had been drastically different than anticipated. By this point, he should have been well near Cadney if not already there. Instead, he found himself in a labor camp. Sold as if he were property. Before Aithe knew it, his eyes drifted shut, and he found himself asleep. His body craved the escape of a dreamless rest.
* * *
Aithe awoke early the next day by a gentle shaking. He jumped, afraid who might be waking him. It was the younger man who had offered him the bowl of broth the night before.
“Aye, lad, ye need tae wake. The ogre is going tae come and fetch us soon, and if we’re nay ready, ye could face a beatin’.” It was clear he was trying to keep his voice quiet and gentle, but he had fear in his eyes. Aithe nodded with understanding and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He winced at the motion. His whole body ached terribly. He knew he needed to get up, there was no pretending this was not going to be his life for the next year. Given the number of times he’d been caught while trying to escape, he knew there wasn't anything he could do. He promised himself he would not think of the whole year right now. All he needed to think about was that day, and then the next, and go on from there.
The men gave Aithe some new clothes to wear inside the mines. They fit him loosely. He was told they belonged to a man who worked there before him. They all dressed quickly and readied for the day. Just as Aithe was sliding on his work boots, there was a knock at the barn and a confusing assortment of shouts.
A taller man, one who Aithe thought he saw in the corner last night, turned to the men. He said, in a loud and booming voice. “Remember, be careful men, be focused. Let us end the day well, and we’ll be one day closer tae our freedom.” Everyone nodded or clapped in agreement. The barn doors were opened and a stream of light flooded in. As much as Aithe was aching, he knew what the mine conditions were like. He slapped himself a couple times to wake himself more fully. He had to give the job all of his attention, lest he face the same fate as Christopher.
He waited for all the men to line up and walk outside, and he snuck in at the tail end of the line, hoping he would not cause them to slow down. At least at the end, he could hobble behind them more quickly with his wounded leg than he could near the front. Aithe wondered how much more damage his body could take. Would he be able to handle a whole year in the mines?
Think of only today, he reminded himself. He needed to focus and be alert so that he could be careful. As the line moved forward, he looked around and saw, indeed, what a beautiful village it was. He wished he was there on better terms but maybe one day he would return a free man with no fears.
The men reached the mine quickly, and one by one descended into the darkness. As soon as the light started fading, Aithe’s heart raced. He began to feel trapped, and he had to will himself not to panic. The shackles on his feet and the closing space reminded him of how many times he had almost lost his sanity, and all the times Christopher had helped him return to the present moment. But there was no Christopher here. He needed to do this himself. He needed to calm hi
mself, and he tried to take deep and slow breaths. In his mind’s eye, he thought of Alice; he thought of her beautiful and kind smile, her gentle laugh. He allowed himself to focus on their last night together, what the experience was like for both of them. In thinking of her, once again, he found himself no longer afraid of the present. It truly was as if he had been transported to the past. He feared for his sanity and saved his mind by thinking of Alice. He hoped, at the end of the year, that she would be alright. That she would forgive him for failing her. If so, he would do everything in his power to give her the life she deserved. He would see to it that nothing stood in their way ever again.
Chapter Fourteen
One Year Later
Alice sat in her room, facing the mirror of her vanity table. Behind her, Rebecca adjusted her curls, so they were pinned perfectly in place. Rebecca watched as she added powder to her face. Alice was desperately trying to hide the fact she had been crying only moments ago, but the red blotches seemed to peek through in a way that made her look much older. She hated feeling that way, living with the weight of guilt and grief. There was nowhere for her to express it, no place where she was free to mourn.
When she returned to the manor, her uncle had nearly tossed her into a carriage and sent her to Sussex, after she witnessed Aithe die in front of her eyes. But at the last second, she announced that they had been married and that the marriage was consummated and thus valid in the church. Her uncle had nearly punched at the wall, but instead, gathered himself and wrote to the Earl of Sussex straight away. The man, who needed a wife for nothing more than as a vessel to create children in, was furious about the previous marriage. It was that fact that gave Alice a full year before marrying him. In his words, he wanted to make sure she was not carrying a child "Scot” because he could not marry a woman who had. Alice’s uncle had been rather cheerful about it and told her how lucky she was to have a man willing to wait for her when she was so clearly moving beyond her maiden years. Alice did not see it that way, but saw instead a burden that preyed on the edge of her mind for the next 365 days.
“Are you excited to see your new husband again, finally, miss?” Rebecca asked Alice. Alice scowled at the word husband and shook her head so hard the curls nearly fell out of place.
“The Earl is not my husband, and I am not one bit excited, Rebecca. I think I’ve made that perfectly clear.” Alice was not sure, but it seemed fairly obvious Rebecca had betrayed her that night one year ago. Given how early in the morning her uncle and his men had arrived, there was no way they had found out in the morning as expected. Someone must have told him that Alice was missing, and the only person who would have any inkling of her leaving in the middle of the night was Rebecca.
“Oh, but surely a marriage to the Earl is much better than any that Scottish man might have offered you.” She added in a low voice. Alice waved her hand at Rebecca as she sat trying to adjust her hair further.
“I will not have you speak ill of my dead husband like that. He was a noble man, and I will not have you desecrate his memory. I will not need you anymore, Rebecca, you may leave my room now.” Perhaps Alice was harsh, but it was the anniversary of Aithe’s death, and she was not in a mood to hear such chatter. Rebecca pursed her lips and quickly left the room without being asked again.
As soon as Rebecca left, Alice took out Aithe’s letter. Upon returning to the manor a year ago, she made a point to search through her uncle’s things to find the letter she was meant to receive. She was able to break into one of the drawers in his study and now regarded it as the only connection she still held with her husband. She reread it and tried to hear his voice in the words he had written. By that point, she had memorized the rise and fall of his writing. It pained her to know he was no longer her future. Despite knowing he was not always going to be around, she had grown very fond of the idea of living in Cadney with him. But now, she had Sussex to look forward to. The Earl would be arriving soon to claim her, like the property she had become to him and her uncle. And there was nothing she could do about it.
Alice took out her small suitcase, set it on her bed, and took a deep breath. The time was coming, but there was nothing else that could be done to delay the sad event further. She let out a small sigh and began looking around her room. First, she grabbed a piece of clothing and brought it to the bed. There she folded it neatly, likely too neat, but it was all a distraction from needing to do more. With every few items packed, she sat back down on the bed and gave herself some time to rest. She felt weaker than she did a year ago and knew it was because she had faced so much trauma. Her body was worn down from the many terrible losses and changes to her life. Most people would be allowed to mourn their loved ones for the rest of their lives but not Alice. She was forced to act as if she was no longer in pain just because she needed to serve as her uncle’s secret messenger.
She couldn't believe the earl did not turn her away after he heard about her marriage. It seemed as though Alice was not all engaging in conversation or even that interesting. When she returned to the manor, she had secretly hoped he would be bothered by the fact that she was no longer a virgin and that she had been married to a Scot. Instead, she found he was willing to marry her a year later so long as she was not with child. There were many times over the year that Alice thought about running away. She even thought of trying to find Cadney on her own a few times. But Aithe had not had the chance to let his family know about his marriage before he was killed. So it would have been rather shocking to them if she showed up proclaiming to be his wife of only one day. She knew she would look like a lunatic.
Also, she couldn't believe how hard she had been on him that day - one year ago. She had scolded him for not letting his family know he was alive, and the very next day he was killed. It turned out he knew better than she, clearly. Alice returned to folding her clothing and packing her things. She had taken to, over the year, looking for something that helped her keep the memory of Christopher alive. There were a few books of his, some letters, she even found an old shirt that belonged to him. She packed those very carefully into the corners of her suitcase, hoping her future husband would not be so brutish as to take them away. He seemed adamant about forgetting her past within a year. It was part of the conditions of his waiting, that at the end of that year, she should no longer mention her brother or dead husband.
Alice could not argue either. She knew it was pointless, and it wasn’t as if she would relive the memories of the two men with her new husband who was only going to be a darker version of her uncle. She made sure to tuck the letter between some of her clothing just in case and sat down on the bed and faced the window of her room. Outside it was a pleasant day. Not too cool. She wished to return to a time when she was free, as a young girl, to roam the countryside, playing with other children, and not being burdened with grief and duty to pay back the only living family she had. But there was nothing she could do to go back to those times.
Alice was lost in her thoughts when she heard a soft knock on the door.
“Enter,” she commanded in a cold voice. Rebecca poked her head in and looked around.
“Miss, your uncle wishes to see you in his study.”
“I will be down shortly.” Alice turned to close her luggage as Rebecca nodded and left the room.
Alice looked out the window and felt deep despair about the future that awaited her. She did not look forward to being married to a man she did not love. While she might not have loved Aithe when they first married, there was mutual respect and admiration. It was as close as she could get to love and happiness. Now, with his death only a year ago, she realized she could have loved him. If only she had been allowed to find out.
Alice turned and left her room. She descended the long stairway to reach her uncle’s study. She did not look forward to speaking with him. Since returning a year ago, he had grown even crueler. He threw her in the cellar a handful of times when her crying had disturbed him. He had demanded she learned more womanly tasks
and set her to work in the kitchen as well as doing various cleaning tasks. He made her sit with him for much of her free time, but never engaged her in conversation, just required she be present for fear she wouldrun off or entertain herself with more books. He had taken all the joys she had and crushed them in his hands. Alice hated him.
She gave a gentle knock at his door, even though it was open. She knew he hated it when she did not announce her arrival. Almost immediately, he told her to enter. She looked to the floor. She could barely meet his eyes. Each time she did, she felt guilt and fear rise up inside of her. He was the reason Aithe was dead: her uncle. And because he was her family, that meant she was the reason as well.
“Look at you, Alice, you’ve lost even more weight. Really, how do you think the Earl is going to respond. Do you expect him to be pleased? I will have the maid melt some butter into your stew. Hopefully, we can fatten you up a bit in the next three days before his arrival. I’ll need to put you on a feeding schedule from now on.” Alice felt tears well in her eyes. She did not mean to lose weight, but she barely had an appetite in her grief. Now, she felt like she was being treated even worse because of it. At least she had three more days before she was sent off.
