by Sky Winters
“That . . . was for my husband, you miserable little man!” the Widow O’Connor shrieked.
Marcus fell to the ground and she pulled her sword free, wiping it on her apron as she walked slowly back toward Anna and handed it to her. Anna looked at her, wild eyed with disbelief. Where had she even come from?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Widow O’Connor told her before walking back toward the small hut her husband had built the day before Marcus caught him out hunting on land he deemed his and had him beheaded.
Rory and Anna stood looking at one another as the bears surrounding Marcus shifted back into the men they had been before. Two of them picked up Marcus and asked what to do with him.
“We can’t go hauling a dead King into town, even with his sister in tow,” Rory told her.
“Toss him over the cliff. It’s where he would have had me go if Rory hadn’t intervened. I’ll take care of things from there,” Anna said solemnly.
The following day, she and Rory rode into the kingdom alone. She explained to her cousins that Marcus had taken a nasty spill and gone over a cliff.
“You are next in line for the throne, Murdina,” her cousin Edward told her.
“I don’t want it,” she told him. “You are next after me. I want you to tell people that I have died in the accident with my brother and take the throne. You will be a good king. Rory and I will stay the night here and be gone in the morning for you to make your announcement,” she told him.
“You can’t just give up the throne,” Edward chastised.
“I can and I am. I would like to get some of my things that I wasn’t afforded the opportunity to take when I left here and you will never see me again,” she replied.
“If you are certain that you wish things to be that way, then it is what will be done,” he told her. “Just know that if you ever need anything, you can come to me. The world may think you are dead, but I will know you are not.”
“I appreciate that, Edward. However, I don’t think I will ever need anything from this place ever again. I have all I need right here,” she said, looping her arm through Rory’s. On the way back to the Highlander’s camp, she asked him the question that she had been wanting to for some time.
“Why did you not tell me that you were the boy that saved me from Marcus all those years ago?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think you would remember me as I remembered you,” he said.
“I did remember you. You’ve just changed so much. That boy seemed so timid and shy,” she replied.
“A lot of time has gone by since then. The harsh realities have a way of changing a person,” he replied.
“I suppose so,” she replied, knowing that she too had changed quite a bit since her parents had died and she had seen so much cruelty. Rory surprised her by pulling the wagon over and turning toward her.
“I want to marry you, Anna. Will you marry me?” he asked.
“Yes! Yes, I will. Can we do it today?” she asked.
“If that is what you want,” he replied.
“It is exactly what I want,” she beamed.
“Then you will be my bride by the end of the day,” he replied, putting the wagon back into motion.
Later that afternoon, they were married in a ceremony performed by Duncan, who just happened to be an ordained minister. The entire village surrounded them and cheered for them as they were joined as man and wife. Anna caught sight of the Widow O’Connor beaming radiantly and looking happier than she had ever seen her. Apparently, vengeance does do the soul some good.
Six months later, Anna stood by the river talking with the women who were washing clothes as they handed them to her to hang on the makeshift clothes line that ran between two trees. Ordinarily, she would be helping them, but it was hard getting down to the water in her current condition. She smiled as she saw Rory approaching her with a broad smile. He put his hand upon her growing bely and spoke to their unborn child softly.
“We’re going to have a great life, my son,” he replied.
“How do you know it is a son?” Anna laughed.
“Because this world can only stand one beauty as great as yours, my love,” he told her with a kiss on the cheek.
THE END
DRAGON LORD
“I don’t see why I have to be married off to such a loathsome man!”
Alva McCraig circled around her brother, matching his strikes as well as any male swordsman in the land. Their father, Lord McCraig, found her penchant for sword fighting with her brothers unacceptable for a young woman of her stature. He only allowed it as long as she maintained her duties in a society that treated her like a delicate flower, which she abhorred. The only female in a house of six brothers and a mother long passed into her grave, she was more tomboy than lady.
Alva never fit in at the society functions, but her father trotted her to all of them, hoping to marry her off to an eligible member of their rank and file. Recently, he had found success with Lord MacEwan, a man she found as unattractive in looks as well as in personality. Though she had only met the man briefly during a grand ball, he was rumored to be arrogant, ruthless and aggressive. She couldn’t imagine being married to such a man.
“You know that this will seal the peace treaty between our clans.”
“So, I am to be trotted off to get married to someone I despise in order for everyone else to be safe and secure.”
“That is pretty much the case, yes.”
Infuriated by the notion, she quickly countered his thrust and dropped her boot behind his leg, knocking him off kilter and bringing him to the ground. His sword flew from his hand and she stood over him with the tip of hers touching his breast. Smiling down at him, she held him there a moment longer than necessary before pulling the sword away.
“I’d rather fight.”
“Yes, we all know you would. I’d wager that you’d come out victorious too.”
She watched as his body changed, shifting before her eyes. A large black wolf with bright yellow eyes slid easily from beneath her sword and stood looking at her from just beyond the edge. It was something she could never get used to, seeing her brothers shift into wolves as it suited them. She was deeply envious of the ability. Just as quickly as he changed into a beast, he reformed into his human state. He stood smiling at her, still wearing the tattered clothes that had ripped apart in the transformation.
“I hate it when you do that.”
“You just hate that you can’t do that.”
“It is entirely unfair not being able to shift. Our family is one of the original clans in Scotland. We’ve been here for thousands of years and are full of wolf shifters, everyone but me, it seems.”
“Not just you, but all the females in the family. You act as if being a woman is a curse. You have no idea how good you have it. We have to work. We have to fight. You get married off to some fancy Lord and instantly create peace while moving into his wealthy estate and being waited on hand and foot.”
“You think being a woman is that easy, huh? You’d feel differently if you were subjected to the pawing of a man you don’t care for and forced to bear his children.”
“I wonder what they’ll be?”
“What do you mean? They’ll be children.”
“No. I mean will they shift into wolves? I hear that the MacEwans are dragon shifters. You might have a son that shifts into a fire breathing wolf or a howling dragon!”
“Are you seriously making light of my predicament? I should have sunk the sword into your chest before you shifted!”
“You’d never do that to me. You love me.”
“Yes. You are my sixth favorite brother.”
“You’ve a sharp tongue, Sis. I hope you intend to temper that with Lord MacEwan. Peace treaty won’t be a lasting long if he doesn’t treat you well.”
“Of course. I will be a perfect lady so that all the land may have peace while I have peril.”
“You shouldn’t look at it like that. Yo
u might enjoy all the finery you’ll be granted. There’s hope that you’ll be a lady, after all!”
Alva swatted at him playfully as he dodged her hand and laughed. He grabbed his sword and motioned for her to come back with him. She followed behind, still scowling. He was lucky that he wasn’t female. He would never have to suffer being married off as if he were livestock being traded for barley. It was demeaning. If her mother were alive, somehow, Alva thought she would not have allowed such a thing to happen to her.
“There is nothing unladylike about me. You just don’t want to admit that you had to shift into your wolf form because you were defeated by a girl!”
Alva laughed playfully as she pulled her long honey wheat hair out of the neat bun it had been pinned into and shook it free about her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight as her laughter sang along the pines that surrounded them in the nearby forest. She might well be a tomboy and given to sport with her brothers, but she was one of the most beautiful girls in the land. There was many a saddened suitor who had sought her heart and failed.
Walking into the house, she considered the misfortune of having been so picky about who she would like to marry only to have the choice taken away from her. There had been some boys she had dated that would have been preferable to Lord MacEwan, but she had not known a day like this would come. She told herself that there was no rush to marry though some would deem her an old maid. Her mother had loved her father very much and that is what she wanted for herself, a house filled with love and devotion.
“It’s not fair!”
The words she uttered to herself still echoed along the walls of her childhood home. She looked around, knowing it would be far behind her soon. She would live elsewhere with a man she did not care for. He would take her as his wife and she would bear his children. The thought made her shudder. Children were wonderful and beautiful, but not something she had ever envisioned for herself. She had believed she would find someone as passionate as herself given to adventure and fun. There would be none of that where she was going. Of that, she was certain.
It seemed like the day to leave for Lord MacEwan’s estate had arrived before she knew it. The servants had all of her things neatly packed and loaded into the carriage that would take her to her new home. Giving it one last shot, she begged her father for a change of heart.
“Please, I’m begging you. Don’t’ send me off to that horrid excuse of a man.”
“You hardly know him, Alva. You might be well surprised how well suited for one another you are.”
“Exactly! I hardly know him and I’m being shipped to him like a neatly wrapped gift. How could you do this to me?”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Alva. You’ll quickly be an old maid if I leave it up to you to choose a husband. You’d rather spar with your brothers than court a suitable mate. This pairing will create a much needed peace between our clans and I think you’ll find it isn’t as unpleasant as you think.”
“You have no idea if it will be unpleasant for me or not! You don’t care!”
“Of course I care. You are my only daughter. Just give it a chance, Alva. You’ll do just fine.”
“So you say. I’ll never forgive you for this. Never!”
Her father looked at her forlornly as she hugged each of her brother’s goodbye, tears falling down her face. Moments later, she was seated in the carriage and on her way to her new life. It felt like a death sentence as she made the three-day journey, stopping periodically in towns along the way for food and rest. At each rest stop, she contemplating running away, but she had no means of support and nowhere to go. Far worse could happen to her out on her own than having to marry a man she didn’t care for.
The trip seemed endless, each day felt like she would just be traveling forever, never really getting anywhere. The idea of running still occurred to her each day. Her thoughts whirled with considerations of where she could go and how she could survive. She could cut her hair, strap down her chest and don the clothing of a man. She was good enough with a sword to pass herself off with the best of them. Still, it was frightening to consider. The question was really just if it was more frightening than the destination toward which she traveled.
“Finally!”
She looked out the window as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the great castle belonging to Lord MacEwan. It was quite the sight with its large towers and heavily guarded walls. To Alva, it looked more like a prison than a place to be happy. She doubted that she could ever see such a place as home. As the door opened, she found that she was greeted by Lord MacEwan himself, standing just outside of it with a large smile and open arms.
“Ah, there is my beautiful bride. It is so nice to have you arrived for our blessed nuptials. Shall we get you settled in and then partake in a bit of celebration?”
“Thank you. Of course. That would be divine.”
It wasn’t divine. It wasn’t at all, but she had no choice but to play the role she had been assigned. Lord MacEwan was not unattractive, but there was something about him, something dark and sinister. He was well known to be a ruthless pillager and unyielding overlord to the people that inhabited the lands surrounding his castle. He was feared by all and liked by none. He was not the sort of man to which Alva had ever considered she would be married. She silently cursed her father once more and feigned happiness as she was led up to her chambers.
Her arrival was celebrated with great fanfare. Lord MacEwan had arranged for the local society types to come out for a great feast to welcome her with open arms. So far, it wasn’t too bad, but she still felt incredibly nervous and sullen about the entire situation. Though he was quite pleasant to her, there was something amiss about him. She had sensed it the first time they had met and it was even stronger now that she had arrived at his palace.
It didn’t take long to see exactly what the problem was. Lord MacEwan was nothing in private like he was in public. The hospitable, considerate man that had greeted her was just a façade for the cold, rude man that confronted her behind closed doors. She shrank back a bit as he issued orders for how she would and would not behave within the walls of his home. It was quite obvious that this place truly never would be her home, only his. She didn’t belong here, but that is something she had known prior to her arrival.
“Make no mistake. You aren’t exactly the sort of woman I intended to marry. You’re attractive enough, I will give you that, but you have the manners of an uneducated tart and I won’t tolerate being embarrassed by you. You will attend private classes I have set up from a proper Lady in hopes that you might learn how to present yourself.”
“There is nothing wrong with my manners!”
“There is everything wrong with your manners. If you had any, you would know that it is not proper to address me with such sullen indignation. I have no time for such games.”
“Games? You insulted me! I’m not allowed to defend my own honor?”
“You are not allowed to talk back to me. I assure you that I will not hesitate to lash your backside for it. Also, I won’t have any of this nonsense of your sword fighting. It is improper and it is not allowed.”
“You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do!”
“Oh, but I can and I just did. You and I will be married tomorrow and you will do exactly as I tell you. Don’t forget that the peace between your clan and mine depends on this union. It would be a shame for your stubbornness to bring about harm to your kin. If you think for a moment that I will hesitate to break the peace treaty just because you bat your eyelashes at me, then you are sorely mistaken. You mean nothing to me. I was in need of a bride and your father was cowardly enough to hand over his only daughter in exchange for my not slaughtering your entire clan. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Alva glared at him but said nothing. There was really nothing she could say that would make a difference. There was really nothing she could do. If she talked back, if she ran, if she did anything to cross him, her family would pa
y the price. Though her brothers were wolf shifters and usually very capable of taking care of themselves in battle, they had never had to battle dragons. If what was said of the MacEwan clan was true, it might be a match they could not win.
“Very well. I will do as you ask, but only because I really haven’t a choice it seems.”
“I am glad we have come to an understanding. I will have a servant show you back to your quarters. I suggest you remain there for the rest of the evening and not burden me with your presence.
“That suits me just fine. Have a pleasant evening.”
Alva tried to keep her tone polite and respectful, though she was seething inside. This place would be misery for her. Already she missed her brothers and her father. Tomorrow was a dreaded day. Once she was married to Lord MacEwan, he would expect things of a carnal nature from her. The thought made her skin crawl. The man didn’t even like her and would paw at her like the animal he was. There wasn’t much she found more revolting than the thought of pleasuring the likes of him.
As the sun rose the next day, Alva found herself feeling quite ill. It was all she could do to get out of bed and begin getting ready for the big day. Within moments of her rising, the room was flooded with giddy servant girls, all eager to help her into her wedding gown and do her hair. They doted on her as if she were a princess, something Alva had never been or wanted to be. Though when they were done and she looked at herself in the large mirror standing to one side of the room, she had to admit, she looked the part. Other than the terrible emptiness she could see in her own eyes, she was quite the perfect bride.
“Ah, there is my beautiful betrothed!”
Alva turned toward the sound of Lord MacEwan’s voice. He was dressed in a very fine suit sewn with rich mahogany and gold threading. His boots were polished to a sparkle. He wasn’t a bad looking man, but it did nothing to hide what he was beneath his handsome exterior. She had heard about his raids upon nearby villages under the guise of cleaning up the realm. They were nothing more than pillagings as far as she was concerned. It was a condition of the marriage that they be stopped. She reminded herself of the good coming from this union as she feigned a smile in return.
