6
Ellen wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she had been brought to this village. Days, perhaps weeks had gone by, and she had remained untouched by the outside world. But not a day had passed by without thinking of her mother.
The lifestyle was different to what she was used to, as she explained to Duncan during one of their long conversations. She had grown used to his company and looked forward to spending time with him. He was a fine hunter and had provided much food for the people of the village. The feasts were something to behold; she had been used to having dinner with her parents in a high-ceilinged room where the silence echoed all around them. In this village the feasts were more like parties. The people gathered in the middle of the village and roasted meat, sharing ale and wine and anything they had on hand. It was all cooked fresh and everyone took part in some process of the meal, meaning that the feast was a communal effort and everyone felt as though they had contributed. In Ellen’s opinion this made the food taste better.
The people sang songs, and the children were eager to tell stories of Duncan. They spoke of how he fought for honor and protected them, defending them against wild beasts and bandits. Duncan often blushed as the stories were told about him, but with each telling he became more impressive in her eyes. This wasn’t just a man who stood by and let the world shape him. He impressed his own vision on the world, making an impact with every stride and every action. This was a man not content to let his life wither away like an old tree. He wanted to leave a legacy, to let his roots dive deep down in the ground and stay there for a long, long time as history grew around him.
It would have been easy for Duncan to be arrogant. Ellen had known a few men like that when she had been introduced to potential suitors. They had taken any incidental achievement and built their entire identities around it, using it to fuel their boasts, puffing out their chests, and demanding worship from her. Duncan was humble and only said he did those things because they were the right thing to do. This only made him more impressive in her eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this free,” she said one evening after the feast, when everyone’s bellies were full and their minds were hazy with fatigue. She and Duncan sat atop a hill, looking out upon the land. The silver light of the moon made everything look dappled and the stars were bright and twinkling, as though gems had been scattered over the sky. “Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy my life, but it has always been so regimented by routine. My parents liked to know where I was at all times, and my life was defined by taking lessons or being around for meals and various meetings. I had to fit what I wanted to do around that. But out here you are all free.”
“In a sense.” Duncan nodded. “We all hae our tasks tae dae, but we all get one with them and then we can dae whatever we like. But ye English’s great strength lies in ye organization. It makes ye powerful. We are just clans scattered through the land, keeping tae ourselves.” Duncan stretched out a hand and passed it across the horizon, as though he was caressing all the Highlands with his palm. “If we want tae fight taegether we hae tae arrange messengers and overcome disputes that hae raged between our clans for generations. Ye English can raise an army and crush any foes easily.” He clenched his hand into a fist and there was a bitter tone to his words. “Ye Lords know how tae work taegether. Ye buildings are strong and ye soldiers are well-drilled.”
“Perhaps, but it also means that life for a girl like me is not filled with excitement and adventure,” Ellen said. She hated when conversation turned to the conflict that raged between the English and Duncan’s clan. It put her in a very difficult position. She knew that rationally she should want the English to win, but after spending time with the Highlanders and seeing how they lived, it was very difficult not to hope for them in her heart.
“I admire the way you live with nature,” Ellen said. “You’re so close with the world, and you know so much. There is an ancient wisdom with the land and I fear that we have lost that sense. I was never taught how to hunt or skin an animal, or prepare my own food. We have servants to do all that for us. Our time was given to learning and reading, to things that were spoken of as higher ideals, but after spending some time here I don’t think there’s anything as pure as nature. You know the land so well, it's like you have this relationship with nature that goes beyond anything I’ve known before.” There was a reverent tone to her voice and she hoped that Duncan took it in the earnest, sincere way she intended.
“It’s all about respect,” he explained. “We depend on the land tae survive. It provides us with food, water, and shelter. It gives us animals tae tame and the materials with which tae build houses. We owe everything we have tae nature, and we must be thankful. If we aren’t then great storms will rise and the land will nae be an abundance of resources for us tae use. Ye English seek tae conquer the land, tae tame it and shackle it tae ye will, but that is something we can never dae. They want tae take it and own everything, forgetting that ye cannae own the land. But it does nae stop them.”
“I’m sorry, if it means anything,” Ellen said.
“It means the world.” Duncan looked up and their eyes locked. Something special passed between them. Ellen’s heart fluttered; she had never felt anything like it before. It was the kind of feeling that she always thought love would feel like…but how could she feel this way about a Highlander? It didn’t make sense and she would question it later, but while she and Duncan were together, alone with the dusky sky overhead, the rules of the world didn’t matter.
“If more people were like ye there would be peace.”
“Is that what all the Highlanders want, peace?” Ellen asked.
“Nae all,” Duncan sighed. “I wish it were sae, but a lot of clans would love it if we were at war with the English all the time. All we want is tae be left alone. The English though, they keep taking our territory, driving us back. They take our homes, places that hae belonged tae us for generations, but they take it because they think it’s their right. They see it as the next step, and they don’t care how many of us they hurt along the way. Sae we keep moving back and back, and soon enough we’ll be in the mountains. A lot of people here didn’t live here before, they came when their homes were attacked. They lost their families, their husbands and brothers, the wee children lost their parents. What ye see is a lot of fractured people coming taegether in the hope of making a better future for ourselves,” Duncan said. Ellen was horrified to hear about the brutal things these people had been through, especially because her father had been one of the aggressors.
“I never knew it was so bad. Whenever I heard talk of Highlanders it was never as people like this. We were always told you liked hunting and raiding, that the land north was unsafe and nobody should ever dare venture into it. I suppose now that I think about it the whole thing doesn’t make sense. Why would they tell us all that as children to then go and try to take the land for themselves? Why fight you at all if you’re so dangerous? Sometimes they should just let things be…I just can’t believe that my father would be a part of all of this. He always seemed so reasonable and I never thought he could hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
“I cannae say why some men fight,” Duncan said.
Ellen’s heart was filled with pain when she thought about her father fighting for a dishonorable cause. Perhaps he hadn’t known what he was fighting for. Had Alan known? It had been a while since she had thought about her betrothed husband, yet she didn’t feel guilty about it at all. She would have loved to hear his explanation for why they had to attack these Highlanders when nothing they did was wrong. Duncan explained things rationally and clearly. It made sense to Ellen, and she couldn’t see why there had to be all this fighting in the first place.
“What would you be doing with your life if you didn’t have to fight to defend your home?” she asked.
Duncan ran his hand along his jaw and pursed his lips as he gave the matter great thought. “I dinnae ken really, I guess I would like tae
settle somewhere and tend tae the land, tae grow crops and breed animals and give back to the world that hae given me sae much. I would like tae wake up every morning and gae tae bed every night knowing that I hae done an honest day’s work, surrounded by people who loved me, never having tae worry about a thing.”
“It sounds like a wonderful life,” Ellen said.
“Aye, it would be, if the English weren’t sae determined tae make our lives difficult.”
“When do you think the fighting will be over?” Ellen asked. In this place it was almost impossible to imagine that there was any fighting to be had. The land was quiet, and the rest of the world seemed so far away. It didn’t seem right that this soft grass underneath them should be stained with blood, or that these people would be carved apart by swords and arrows. There was something inherently wrong with war and violence. Intellectually she had always known, but first with her father’s death and now in knowing Duncan she felt dread whenever warriors talked about war, for again and again they went into battle and there was only one inevitable conclusion. Oh yes, they might well delay it for a time, with lady fortune smiling upon them and granting them a few more days to spend under the sun, but eventually their luck would run out and their blood would spill. It was the nature of things.
“I dinnae ken. Maybe never. It hae nae stopped before. Perhaps we may be lucky and something else will distract the English for a wee while, but I must fight tae the end, whatever that end might be. My life is nae my own unfortunately, same as my father’s. It belongs tae them.” He referred to the village, to his people, to the ones who couldn’t defend themselves. Ellen was filled with awe at his sense of noble purpose and her heart swelled with emotion. Her eyes swam with tears and she held his gaze for a long time. When he leaned in close to her she didn’t flinch. When she felt his warm breath washing over her lips she tingled. Her eyes closed as he pressed his mouth upon hers and vibrant feelings burst in vivid colors all over her body. She moaned softly as her body yielded to his, surrendered to the hot feelings that flowed like a warm river all over her body. The moon was their only witness, and gone was the doubt and the fear of being attracted to this Highlander, because in this moment he wasn’t a Highlander. He was simply Duncan, a man with a pure heart who had captured her attention, and her love.
7
A new dawn rose and Ellen awoke feeling invigorated. She had taken to life in the Highlands far more naturally than she assumed she would have, and it had been helped by Duncan’s presence. He was an anchor to her, a pivot upon which this new phase of her life could turn. Those Highlanders who had been suspicious of the girl when she had arrived were now placated by her efforts to help the community. She could call them friends and often talked with them about the matters of the day.
The kiss she shared with Duncan lingered on her mouth. She could still taste him when she ran her tongue along her lips, and the warm feeling of desire flowed through her blood, lifting her up, making her feel as though she could glide and float across the air rather than walk. Their kiss had been something hidden in the depths of the night and she had no idea what should happen now. Like the rest of her life, affection had been highly regimented by routine, cloaked in rules and procedure. She had never let anything just happen before. It was liberating and scary all at the same time, but what she was certain of was that she couldn’t wait to see Duncan again.
When she emerged from the hut that had been her shelter she noticed some commotion. Duncan and the other members of his army were saddling their horses. She rushed up with concern etched upon her face. Duncan had a stern look and although she wanted so badly to talk to him about what they had shared the previous night, she knew it was not the time.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“There’s a patrol of Englishmen coming this way. We’re going tae head them off before they get tae close. I thought we’d manage tae keep this place hidden, but evidently that is nae the case. I thought they might stop for a while after they managed tae win the last battle, but it seems they have nae had enough of war yet.” His face was set into a grim countenance and now she saw the warrior as well as the kind-hearted man who wanted to help people.
She had seen her father go off to war before, but somehow this was different. Perhaps it was because she knew more about the conflict this time and was more aware of the deadly effects, or maybe it was because her feelings for Duncan were different to her feelings for her father. If only her mother were here so that she could talk about this...Myra must have gone through the same kind of feelings. Oh how cruel it would be if Duncan should be taken from Ellen’s life now. There had already been so much ripped away from her in such a short space of time. She couldn’t bear anything else to happen. She wanted to tear Duncan away, to plead and beg with him to stay, but she didn’t because she knew there was no point. This was in her nature and she couldn’t very well be selfish enough to stop him from defending this village.
He mounted his horse and they began to ride away, but before he left Ellen tugged at his tunic and caught his attention.
“Duncan, before you leave please, try and find some word of my mother. I need to know if she’s alive or not.”
Duncan frowned, but he agreed, noting the desperation in her voice. Ellen gave him some details of her name and what she looked like. She knew it was a forlorn hope because there wouldn’t be much time for Duncan to ask the enemy about Myra, but Ellen had to try. “There’s one more thing as well Duncan,” she said. He turned back once again. “Please, try your best to come home alive.”
“I will lass. We hae unfinished business,” he said. He gave her a wink and that twinkle in his eye settled her nerves. It wouldn’t quite ease all the anxiety that swam in her stomach, but it reassured her knowing that he was confident. She drew strength from him, and she steeled herself against the grim thoughts that were running through her mind. Duncan was going to return.
He was.
Unfortunately, Ellen had to wait days for him to return. Each minute became more difficult than the last to endure, and each day seemed like an eternity. She kept herself busy enough, but she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Some of the other women gave her advice on how to keep her mind off things, but deep down they were all worried about the men who went to fight. Part of Ellen wished that she had gone with them because at least then she wouldn’t have to wait for word.
What was this emotion that burst within her heart? How frail and tender her heart was! It seemed wrong and impossible for her to feel this way about Duncan, a Highlander. He was so far removed from everything she was supposed to find in a husband. He was noble in heart, but not in name. He was an honorable gentleman in conduct, but he did not hold any titles, not any given to him by the state at any rate. He was rugged and wild, a reflection of the nature he had a symbiotic relationship with. He was a brutal warrior who showed compassion to those in need. Duncan was a man of contradictions all tangled up to create this strong, attractive monument of a man who had somehow crossed her path. He had become a constant in her life ever since they had met, a dependable rock when everything else in her life had been torn asunder. Without him she wasn’t sure what she had left, and now he was riding off to battle and he might never return.
They had shared one kiss, a kiss that had meant everything to her at the time, but now in the harsh light of day it almost seemed like a dream. Had it really happened? She pressed her fingers to her lips and traced the touch of him. Her lips were soft and pliable, his hand had been hard, firm, with all the strength and passion of a maelstrom. At the time it had seemed to be a prelude to something more, but now that depended on the whims of fate.
Ellen waited in anguish for him to return. Every time there was a sudden noise she looked up, expecting to see him riding triumphantly back like the hero these people proclaimed him to be. To them, he was larger than life; a legend, a myth. But she knew he was flesh and blood and as vulnerable as anyone else. Rain came down in a thick storm and extingu
ished the fire in the village, making a huge plume of smoke rise into the air. Dark clouds made everything murky and grey. Ellen was afraid these were grim portents, as though nature was preparing to mourn its kin. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. Darkness fell around the world and she shivered, cowering alone with her thoughts.
Two days passed when finally the riders returned. The knotted anxiety that had been growing in Ellen’s gut unwound, causing so great a relief that she almost passed out. The ground was soft and muddy as the rain had slashed against the ground for the better part of two days. The world was now awash with a damp sheen. Drops hung on blades of grass and it was as though everything had been cleansed. The warriors were muddy and their tunics were covered in dark smudges. They looked as though they had risen from the earth, summoned by nature to defend it. Ellen searched the returning heroes for the man she awaited...and there he was, sitting on his horse, as mighty and confident as he was when he left. She rushed up to him and greeted him emphatically. He had a grim countenance on his face.
They had not returned unharmed.
“It was a small party,” Duncan said, “but they fought well. Seamus and Alec did nae make it.” There were groans upon hearing his heavy words and Ellen felt sorrow all around her. The mood was palpable. Duncan and the other men alighted from their horses.
“I brought ye a wee gift,” he said, turning to Ellen. Ellen looked at him, confused. He snapped his fingers and two of his men brought forward another man, one who looked decidedly the worse for wear. A streak of dry blood flowed down the side of his face like cracked paint. His hands were bound behind his back, and his teeth were crooked and broken. There was an ugly welt on his forehead where he had been struck by a heavy weapon. No doubt the Highlanders had lived up to their reputation as brutal, strong warriors. The man was flung to the ground before Ellen, falling to his knees.
Highlander’s Twist 0f Fate (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 6
