by Alisa Adams
“Do you remember when we were younger? We used to play in the fields and frolic about like nothing really mattered,” Sarina recalled. The memory brought a sad smile to Harold’s face.
“They were good times, but like all good times, they had to come to an end. We had to grow up and face our responsibilities in the world, just like father wanted.”
“You and I were different then too,” Sarina said wistfully, “we never cared about what anybody thought. Do you remember when we were very young and my hair was short? The two of us were so alike that people could never tell us apart. How I long for those days when it didn’t matter that I was a woman. It’s been a lifetime since we’ve played like that Harold. I suppose we never shall again.”
“I suppose not,” Harold said. “But that is the way of life. You have your duties as a woman and I have mine as a man. Thomas needs me.”
“You were always so loyal to him,” Sarina said. “But I might need you too. I know it will be easy for you all to forget about me up here in the Highlands, but I will always be your sister.”
“I shall never forget that,” Harold said quickly, “but you are doing something honorable. You are ensuring peace between this clan and our family. No longer will we have to suffer war. It is a good thing you are doing.”
He spoke earnestly and in that moment, Sarina was convinced he knew nothing of Thomas’ plan. Harold was too much of a kind soul for that. But now Sarina had met the man she was supposed to marry and kill. The man had saved her life, but Matthew had been lost and he was responsible for the death of her father. She wondered if there was some kind of balance of all these lives as if the loss of one could make up for the loss of another. It didn’t seem that way as each person was an infinity unto themselves, but she decided that was a matter for the scholars and philosophers to debate. All she had to be concerned about was whether she was going to follow her duty to her husband or to her family.
6
When Seamus first saw Sarina, he was shocked by how beautiful she was. It looked as though an ethereal spirit had been plucked from the heavens, made by the gods, and sent down to him. Her milky skin was soft and supple. Her eyes had the wide innocence of youth, her heart-shaped face was demure, and her full lips promised a world of pleasure. Her thick hair was in tresses running down to her back and she looked as dainty as a sapling. He had been struck by a strong feeling that ran through his body when he first laid eyes upon her as though he had been struck by lightning. Guilt followed for it was something akin to what he had experienced the first time he had ever laid eyes on Ciara.
He hadn’t expected himself to actually feel such a deep attraction for his new wife, even though he had promised himself that he would open himself to the possibility. One look at her was enough to transform his feelings and remind him that there was still much to live for. When she revealed that the two men guarding her were her brothers, he was filled with pity for her and when she lashed out in anger he did not respond in kind, knowing that she was mourning.
“Well, what dae ye think, brother?” Angus asked as Sarina went to look at her fallen brother.
“She is beautiful,” Seamus admitted.
“Aye, who knew the English could make such pretty roses,” Angus said, nudging him with an elbow. Seamus smiled, but as he looked at Sarina, he knew it would not be an easy life. From the way she shifted away from in the carriage, it was almost as though she was scared of him. He had been so consumed with his own feelings on the matter that he had not stopped to think how she might feel about being forced to leave her home and come to live in the Highlands with a man like Seamus.
Seamus picked up his sword and wiped it on the grass, cleaning the blade of the blood that had gathered on it. Sarina’s other brother was standing there, stunned. “Ye should clean ye blade,” Seamus called out to him. It took a couple of moments for the boy to shake himself from his stupor. He nodded and walked over to Seamus.
“What’s ye name?” Seamus asked.
“Harold.”
“Ye fought well.”
Harold nodded and followed Seamus’ movements, although Harold’s blade wasn’t nearly as dirty. There was no blood on it, but it had been smudged.
“I am sorry about ye brother,” Seamus added. Harold’s head bowed. Seamus noticed how his hands trembled. It was clear that this boy hadn’t seen much in the way of fighting.
“I think ye should ride with ye sister. I’ll drive the carriage,” Seamus suggested. Harold was about to protest, but Seamus glanced down at Harold’s hand. Harold nodded numbly. Then Seamus went over to see Sarina. They should be moving on now before any other bandits appeared.
He tried to speak to her gently and was taken aback when she spoke spiteful words to him. He wanted to argue back, to tell her that he could not predict the acts of bandits nor could he have come any more quickly. He also wanted to tell her that her brother was foolish for charging at the bandits and had paid the price for failing to see the obvious trap, but he held his tongue, knowing that sometimes it was wiser not to speak even when you were convinced of the truth.
When Sarina and Harold were back in the carriage, Seamus went over to Angus and told him to bring Matthew’s body back to the castle.
“Are ye sure ye want tae pay such honor tae a fool?” Angus said.
“Aye, he is nae just any fool. He is my brethren,” Seamus replied. “I know it dinnae seem right tae pay such respects tae an Englishman, but we are gaeing tae have tae get used tae it if we are gaeing tae enjoy peace. Dae ye ken?”
“Aye, I dae. I’ll carry him back and we’ll see what they want done with him.”
“Thank ye kindly, brother. And thank ye for the arrow as well, although I hae the matter in hand.”
“Oh, I know, but I didnae want tae miss out on the fun,” Angus said with a gleam in his eye. The two men clasped their forearms and brought their chests together before they went their separate ways: Angus to gather Matthew’s body and the horses and Seamus to take his place at the front of the carriage to take Sarina to her new home.
He and Angus were in good spirits, and Seamus still felt the excited surge of battle bubbling in his blood. They lived for battle and Seamus had never felt more alive than when he was in the hot throes of fighting. Sarina and Harold were in an entirely different mood, however, but that was the way of the warrior: glory or death. Matthew had found the latter on that day.
Seamus sheathed his sword and scanned the horizon before he left to ensure that there would be no other nasty surprises. Everything seemed to be clear. He took his position on the carriage and whipped the reins, signaling for the horses to get underway. He went at a gentle pace for there was no rush to make it to the castle and he thought that Sarina and Harold may appreciate the time to process their loss.
He also wanted the time to process a few things too.
Sarina was lovelier than he had ever imagined, but he was aware there was more to love than mere attraction. He was yet to see her true personality and until then, he wouldn’t know if he could truly love her. As far as he was concerned, the soul was the real key to a woman’s beauty and served to accentuate any physical attributes. He would not have chosen those circumstances to be their first meeting, but it had happened now and he couldn’t help but wonder what she thought about him.
This marriage had been for the sake of a peace treaty, but if the two of them were to spend their lives together, they may as well find some joy out of it. Seamus looked to the mountains that Ciara had spoken of so often and struggled with his feelings inside. Living by his decision was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated for guilt swirled within him at the thought of loving anyone else. It was something that he would have to deal with, however, for he could not let the past rule his future.
They soon reached the castle and Seamus stopped the wagon. He jumped down and people had already begun to gather outside in anticipation of Sarina’s arrival. He gestured for them to stay back, not wanting Sarina to be ove
rwhelmed. He then opened the door and smiled at her. Sarina looked tired and she tentatively took his hand, but she let go as soon as her feet touched the floor. Harold followed, staggering in a daze.
“Welcome tae ye new home,” Seamus said. Sarina smiled softly, but there was no happiness in her eyes. She took one look at the castle, arching her neck back to take it all in and then nodded.
“What dae ye think?” he asked, trying to elicit some conversation from her.
“It’s big and dark,” she said. Then she noticed all the people looking at her and whispering. She bowed her head and started to wring her hands. “Can we go inside?” she asked.
“Of course,” Seamus said. He looked back and saw Angus returning up the hill. Seamus led Harold and Sarina into the castle, smiling at the people who had come to greet him. He told them that they had encountered bandits and that they were going to get properly acquainted. The people understood. On the whole, they seemed pleased for him that Sarina had arrived and could perhaps pull Seamus back from the bleak abyss he had been staring into ever since Ciara had died.
Seamus took them into the castle and led them into the main chamber, where he gestured for them to sit down. He immediately saw Sarina draw her arms around her and shiver. “I’ll get ye cloaks, and some food,” he said. Neither Harold nor Sarina responded. He left the chamber feeling confused. He didn’t know what he expected, but somehow, he had assumed she would be more talkative than this. He gathered thick wolf pelts from the kitchen and ordered the chefs to make up a warm, comforting broth. While he waited, his mother appeared.
“Ye had an interesting meeting then,” she said.
“Aye, their brother died.”
“I see. I imagine Sarina must be troubled.”
“She is quiet. I get the impression she dinnae want tae be here.”
“Can ye blame her? Ye men always expect us women tae dae whatever ye want, tae feel however ye want us tae feel. She’s an English lass Seamus, dae ye really think she spent her days dreaming of marrying a Highlander?”
“I suppose not,” Seamus was forced to admit.
“She hae come from the home she hae known all her life and her brother hae just died. I think ye can be more sensitive with her,” Martha said.
“I suppose I just feel that because I hae struggled with my own feelings I dinnae expect the same from her.”
“Ye men are always forgetting that we hae feelings tae. Give her time, Seamus. She is young, she is scared. Be gentle with her.”
“I will try, Ma. I should get these tae her and her brother.”
“Let me. She needs some time tae get used tae this place. Take some time tae change and get ready for the ceremony later. See tae the people, I will take these tae her and speak tae her myself. I think the words of a woman will dae much more than anything ye can dae.”
Seamus gave her a nod of assent and handed her the thick pelts. A servant was going to carry the two bowls of steaming broth. Seamus’ jaw tensed as he watched his mother leave. All this time, he had been worrying if he could love again, but now that he met Sarina, he was beginning to worry if he could be loved. It was certainly going to be a long and arduous process and would be made even more difficult by the death of her brother. He supposed they had their whole lives to get used to each other.
7
Sarina shivered in the castle. The walls were thick stone, cold, and gray. It was far from homely, far from being cozy. She couldn’t imagine spending a life here, not that she would have to if she carried out Thomas’ plan, but that only made her feel worse—as though she was some intruder, a spy in the midst of these Highlanders. Seamus had saved her life and she had been sent here to take his. Could she really break the laws of hospitality and carry out this dark deed?
“It’s strange to be here, isn’t it?” Harold said softly. His voice echoed around the chamber. They were in a hall with plenty of tables and chairs which were all made of thick wood. A few tapestries hung on the walls, but they did not bring much color to the room. Spears, swords, and shields were peppered around the walls as well, all reminders that the Highlanders were warriors. She wondered how much blood Seamus had shed and if killing came easily to him.
There was one long table at the rear of the room which had huge chairs behind it and was no doubt where Seamus sat as the Laird of this place. She stared at the chair beside the biggest one, knowing that it was hers. It seemed odd to her that her place was at that table. Even though she was in this castle, she could not envisage herself as part of this place.
Harold rose from his seat and inspected the tapestries and the weapons that hung on the walls, seeking to distract himself from the memory of Matthew’s death. “I’d wager this is where they made their battle plans against Father,” Harold mused.
“I’d rather not think about that at the moment, Harold. I am going to have to live here. I would rather not be reminded of Father’s death whenever I look around.”
Sarina rose too, though only to get the blood flowing through her body to warm her up. She thought if she stayed rooted to her chair then she would likely turn into ice. She rubbed her arms vigorously, trying to force away the chill that seemed to creep into every part of her body, and walked toward the main table. She ran her fingers along the thick wood and was surprised by how smooth it was. Whoever had made this table and the chairs showed expert craftsmanship. When she came to Seamus’ chair, she held her hands against the rigid, imposing back and looked out at the main hall, imagining it filled with people all ready to feast. Then she looked down at the smaller chair by its side, her place. She licked her lips uneasily and then perched on the edge, trying to settle into it, but she just couldn’t quite get comfortable.
“I see ye hae found ye place,” a singsong voice said, emerging from the entrance of the hall. Sarina turned to see a portly woman with cascading locks of red hair standing there holding some wolf pelts. She was flanked by a servant holding a tray with two bowls of broth. Steam rose and the thought of eating something warm made Sarina’s stomach growl. She immediately leaped from her chair and stood up.
“Stay where ye are lass, it is ye place,” the woman said and then introduced herself as Martha, Seamus’ mother. “It is a pleasure tae meet ye. I am sorry tae hear what happened with the bandits, but I’m glad ye hae made it here safely.”
“Thank you,” Sarina said politely. She introduced herself formally as well as Harold. The servant, a young man, set the bowls on the table and then left the room. Martha eased into one of the seats, glad to take the weight off her feet. She was much shorter than Seamus and looked well-fed. Sarina didn’t know why this struck her as odd. She supposed that because her father had always described the Highlanders as wild, she expected them to be thin, living off the land in small tribes, not in castles like these. Perhaps they were more civilized than she had been led to believe.
Harold sat down as well and they both picked up the wooden spoons. Harold scooped up the broth eagerly, slurping the warm liquid up. Sarina had to clear her throat. They may have been among wild Highlanders, but that didn’t mean they had to forget basic etiquette and manners. Sarina balanced the spoon between her fingers and let it sink into the broth. The liquid swarmed over the spoon. Sarina swept it to the rear of the bowl then let it rise, blew on it so that it did not burn her mouth, and then sipped it gently. The liquid was filled with meaty flavor, although as far as she could see there was no meat in it. The broth was thick and felt satisfying as it slid down her throat. The warmth spread through her body and a smile followed.
“I’m glad tae see ye are enjoying it. The cooks are busy preparing food for the feast tonight. I’m sure ye hae never eaten sae well. Ye will put on little here and there, but it will be worth it,” Martha said, patting her own belly. Sarina smiled politely although she disagreed. Gluttony was a sin after all and her father had always taught her to eat only as much as she needed and not a bite more.
“I assume this must be a wee bit strange for ye?” Marth
a said. Sarina nodded, unsure of how much she should say for she didn’t wish to be rude.
“Ye are allowed tae speak, lass,” Martha said, the corners of her eyes crinkling with kind words. Something about the way she smiled reminded Sarina of her mother. Lady Bashir was always ready to help people open up and couldn’t abide quiet people.
“I understand. I am sorry if I am quiet, but this is all a lot to take in, especially given what happened to Matthew. Encountering those bandits was not anything we expected to happen.”
“We hae nae seen anything from them in a long time. Seamus drove them away a while back. He made it clear that they were nae tae trouble any of the merchants coming tae this place. They seemed to value their lives over the coin they could steal, but it seems that the value of ye treasure was more than they could resist. It was a blessing that Angus saw ye in time, else they would never have made it tae rescue ye and believe me, ye dinnae want tae be captured by bandits.”
“I have a great deal to be thankful for.”
“Aye. Part of me wonders if these bandits did this tae spite Seamus as well, wanting tae prevent his new bride from arriving.”
“Perhaps, but they failed,” Sarina said, smiling sweetly as she ate her broth.
“That they did.”
Harold was trying not to slurp, but he was so hungry and cold that he gulped down the bowl until it was empty and then wiped his face. Martha turned to study him.
“Would ye mind leaving Sarina and I for a few moments lad? I hae a few things I’d like tae talk with her about, lady talk,” she added, narrowing her eyes. Harold glanced at Sarina uneasily, but he rose. He’d always found it difficult to refuse firm orders from women. Sarina was the only exception to that rule.
Harold left the room, leaving Sarina with Martha. The back of Sarina’s neck tingled in fear and she worried that she would now bear the brunt of Martha’s tongue. This marriage was a political convenience. Sarina didn’t want to be here and she was certain that the Highlanders wouldn’t want her here either. Seamus’ subjects had already looked at her as though she was some exotic specimen, whispering about her as she arrived. She was not one of them and never would be.
