Highland Burn

by Victoria Zak

  Or had she played the fool? Abigale’s anger grew. Was this some kind of trickery or bewitchment? Had she been too blind to see that he was a man who took what he wanted and didn’t care about anyone else? Could he be so cruel as to have his pleasures with her then send her off and be done with her? Mayhap he would only call on her to satisfy his urges. His own personal whore. Even though they were married, the thought alone made her feel like a whore.

  Why was fate being so cruel to her? Didn’t she deserve happiness? Or mayhap she didn’t, perhaps her destiny was to be alone. Alone and a bastard. Abigale stopped in mid-stride as a vision of Abbess Margaret appeared over by the hearth. The raven-haired Abbess turned slowly to face Abigale. Her voice chilled her like ice. “Did ye actually think that a man would want ye, bastart?” Abbess Margaret seethed.

  Abigale back-stepped until her back hit the door. “Nay, ye cannae be here.” Every word she spoke shook with fear.

  In a split second the Abbess was eye to eye with Abigale. “Oh I’m real, I’ll never leave. Ye need me to remind ye of who ye truly are. A bastart that's all alone,” she mocked. “If ye were a true princess yer father wouldn’t have abandoned ye."

  “Nay.” Abigale shook her head back and forth as she slid down the door. Huddled into a quivering ball, she hugged her legs close to her body waiting for her hair to be coiled around the Abbess’s deadly fist.

  The wretched woman towered over Abigale’s shaking body. “The only reason James married ye was because it was arranged by ye father. Yer father didnae want ye so he married ye off to be done with ye. Ye be no princess, ye’re a bastart!”

  Abigale fisted her hands and began to hit herself in the head to make the voice stop. “Please, stop!” Dear God, please make it stop. This wasn't happening, not now. Normally she was able to fight back and make the vile woman stop. She thought that once she had left the abbey she would no longer be plagued by the evil woman. But as fate would have it, she was a bastard and abandoned again.

  Abigale banged her fists harder against her temples. “I’m no bastart,” she cried out and repeated to herself over and over again until she could no longer hear the Abbess's words. When silence filled the room, Abigale dared to open her eyes. As she opened one eye at a time, relief washed over her as an empty bedchamber came into view. Quickly Abigale jumped to her feet and ran to the window, pushing the furs out of the way. She was sure she would see the Abbess fly from her window and back to her lair like some kind of night creature.

  The walls of Castle Black Stone were beginning to feel constricting and her chest felt tight. She needed to leave this place for a while and clear her head. Mayhap a trip into the village would do her some good. Never being able to leave on her own will, excitement grew as she thought about what she might see. Perhaps some sweet smelling candles would lighten her mood. Abigale grabbed her cloak and headed for the door.

  Once in the corridor, she lost herself in her current state of anger, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings and didn’t notice Marcus walking behind matching her stride. “See, I told ye he was too stubborn,” Marcus mused.

  Startled that she was being followed, Abigale stopped abruptly to turn and face Marcus. “What is it with ye Highlanders sneaking up on people?” Beyond irritated at this point, her tongue was quick to insult.

  Taken aback by the firmness of her tone, Marcus stepped back. “Lady Abigale, please forgive my rudeness. I was just trying to lighten yer mood.”

  Truly he seemed sincere. Abigale felt horrible for snapping at him. It wasn’t his fault that his cousin was an arse. “Marcus, I’m afraid I'm in no mood for company right now. Please excuse me, the mood in here is foul and I need some fresh air.”

  They continued onward. Reaching the stairs, Abigale descended steadfastly to the great hall. True to being who he was, a Highlander, Marcus wasn’t taking no for an answer. He followed her a few steps behind. “Ye know I’m a good listener and ye look as if ye need to speak yer mind about something.”

  Nay, she didn’t need an ear, she needed to be away from this castle and most definitely away from a stubborn man. She’d had enough of being told what to do and when she was going to do it. She was hurt, confused, and mourned the fact she might possibly be leaving Alice and Effie.

  Abigale took a deep breath trying to rein in her fury. “I thank ye kindly for yer concern, but I need to be alone right now. I’m taking Fergus to the village. I need some time to clear my head.” She tried her best to smile and reassure him that she would be fine, she needed some time… alone.

  “The village… alone… without an escort! Nay, won’t allow it." Marcus folded his arms in front of his chest as if saying ye’ll leave over my dead body.

  “Och… I… I won’t be gone long. I'll be fine.”

  “Nay lass, ye cannae go alone, ‘tis not safe. The merchants can be ruthless out there. And do I need to mention the natty lads lurking around waiting to pick your pockets. I’ll escort ye to the village.”

  It was true, merchants could be ruthless; desperate people did desperate things. With last winter being relentlessly frigid then adding to spring’s saturating rains, the terrain conditions for farming in the Highlands had become a challenge. Livestock froze to death and the soil was unproductive. Most items they had were brought back from village raids or crusades. People were hungry and in need of coin.

  His mouth was just inches from her ear. He whispered, “I will nay take no for an answer.”

  The sound of his deep baritone voice made Abigale go silent. His presence alone demanded submission like he was never denied it. Unease shivered through her, as she felt his hot breath searing her neck.

  “Good. I’ll tell the stable groom to ready the horses for us. We’ll leave shortly.” Marcus strode out of the great hall taking all the tension with him, leaving Abigale to settle her nerves.

  Feeling even more irritated, Abigale blew out a pent up breath. All she wanted right now was to be alone with her thoughts. Making her way to the kitchen, she remembered that she’d hid her dirk under one of the large black cauldrons. Not needing its use, she had hid it there before she went to bathe Lennox and Mahboon. Thank God the cauldron had been cold and unused this morn. Bending down, she looked under the pot. Reaching with all her might, her hand touched cold steel. Aye, my dirk.

  Lifting the right side of her dress thigh high, she attached a black strap around her leg and sheathed the blade. Relieved her dirk was securely strapped to her inner thigh, she patted down her skirts and made her way to the stables, but before she left she grabbed an apple for Fergus.

  As they reached the village, the aftermath of the hard rainfalls was hard to miss. The small village had been beaten and bruised; dirt paths had been washed away leaving behind dried ripples of mud. Water collected in small pools that dotted the paths weaving through the town. Rocks and stones had been unearthed by the flooding rain making it hard to walk without tripping and the stench of wet thatch was everywhere.

  Abigale couldn’t believe how much destruction the rains had left behind. On the other hand, the clan members’ attitude didn’t match their muddled living conditions. The town came alive as villagers were patching up missing thatch from their roofs, cattle were being moved to drier ground, and merchants were out with carts full of salvaged vegetables and furs for the winter to come.

  Abigale and Marcus walked through the merchant area of the village observing the different items for sale or barter. Her attitude began to soften a bit. Fresh air really did help clear the mind. Plus, Marcus hadn’t pushed the issue for her to talk about what ailed her. Indeed he’d held true to his word and kept quiet, but was ready to listen when Abigale was ready to talk.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Abigale spotted a heavy-set older woman stepping out from behind a cart selling what looked like fresh honey. The woman approached Abigale, but was quickly halted by Marcus’s sword before she reached. The woman swallowed hard. “Pardon me my lady, I only want to thank ye for saving Laird Douglas.”
She bowed her head and nervously wadded up her apron in her hands.

  Abigale motioned for Marcus to release the woman, she held no threat. The woman lifted her head to look at Abigale. “My lady, I do no have expensive gifts to give, but would ye kindly accept this as a token of my gratitude?” The woman handed Abigale a cloth covered object that fit in the palm of her hand.

  Abigale was shocked when she opened the fabric and found a brooch. Abigale ran her finger around the half circle pendant tracing the knot work. The brooch was weathered and looked old as though it had been passed down through generations.

  “Oh my lady, watch oot for the pointy end. ‘Tis sharp,” the woman warned.

  Amazed that the woman would part with such an heirloom, Abigale could not accept such a gift. “I can no—“

  Marcus interrupted Abigale before she made a huge mistake. Refusing a gift was an insult. “The princess thanks ye kindly.”

  Abigale stood dumbfounded. She felt guilty for accepting such an elaborate gift.

  As they walked away, Abigale felt confused as she looked over her shoulder at the woman who was now beaming with a smile. Why would she give her such a gracious gift when a simple thank you would suffice?

  Marcus leaned his head toward Abigale as they walked side by side. “’Tis rude to decline a gift, especially when it’s a gift of thanks.”

  Bewildered, she turned back around. “Marcus, she could have used this trinket to barter for food or at least a few coos.”

  “Aye, but she wanted ye to have it.” Marcus winked at her.

  It was apparent that Abigale had a lot to learn about life. Being sheltered came with its disadvantages, she thought. Clan rules hadn’t existed in her world until a few days ago. She would have felt horrible if she’d hurt the poor woman's feelings by not accepting her gift. Being naïve was going to land her in a world of trouble if she didn’t watch it.

  As they passed the last merchant Abigale noticed a rundown stone dwelling with a badly woven thatch roof. Two little girls with ripped, dirty tunics were standing outside in front of a loosely hung door that banged shut with every light breeze that blew through the village. The little girls were filthy and looked as if they hadn’t eaten or slept for days.

  Before Marcus could stop Abigale, she walked up to the girls and bent down to their level. “Where’s yer mum and da?”

  The youngest girl swayed back and forth with her hands tucked behind her back. She looked down to her bare dirt-stained toes and shrugged her tiny shoulders. She had to be about five summers old, Abigale thought as she picked a piece of caked-on mud from the little girl’s body. The eldest girl shoved her shoulder into the little girl as if letting her know not to trust the strangers.

  Abigale walked past the girls and into their home, if you could call it a home. Cautiously, she pushed the door open and quickly had to cover her nose from the wretched smell that permeated the home. “Hello! Is anyone home? ”Abigale yelled out. No one answered.

  Marcus followed Abigale inside and quickly covered his nose with a white linen cloth. “Bloody hell!” He stood next to Abigale as they observed the filth. Rotten food and dirty trenchers littered a wooden table near the hearth which was blackened with thick soot. Straw mixed with mice droppings covered the dirt floor and in the middle of the small house lay a mud puddle. Abigale cringed at the thought that this was the only source of water for the girls. “Who would allow such living conditions?” She shook her head.

  “I dunno. Something is verra wrong here.” Marcus motioned for them to leave, for the stench was overpowering.

  Abigale stepped back outside, breathing in the much-needed fresh air. The girls still stood where they were, watching them intently, yet never saying a word. Abigale’s heart broke for these girls. Undoubtedly they had been mistreated and left alone to fend for themselves. But for how long? How could someone do such a thing? Something wasn't right here, Abigale could feel it.

  “Marcus, we need to take these girls back to Black Stone. They can no stay here.”

  Marcus stood with his arms folded in front of him glaring at the girls as if he didn’t trust this situation. “My lady, I think it’s best we leave before someone shows up." He advised.

  Abigale was shocked that he wanted to leave these poor defenseless girls here. Her dark brows furrowed in disbelief. “Ye dinnae mean to leave the girls here? We have to welcome them into our home until we figure oot what happened.”

  “Ye don’t understand. If we take the girls, their parents may come looking for them. It could start a feud. Ye don’t want to be charged with kidnapping… do ye?” Marcus was trying to talk some sense into her, but knowing Abigale’s kind heart, he was losing the battle.

  “I will no leave these girls.” Abigale put her hands on her slender hips, tipped her chin up, and stood her ground. “Either I stay here,” God, she hoped it didn’t come to that, “or I bring the girls back to Black Stone. As long as I’m married to the laird, we’ll take care of our people.”

  Marcus ran his hand through his rugged light brown hair in aggravation. “Fine, but ye will have to answer to yer husband, no me.”

  Abigale smiled in victory, but it was short-lived as the ground started to rumble and screams rang out. Full-on panic raced to life throughout the village as its people started to scatter and run for their lives. Abigale turned to Marcus. His hand already palmed the hilt of his sword ready to protect her. As if he knew what she was going to ask, he informed her of what was going on. “Village raid. We need to get ye out of here, now!” Marcus bellowed through the screams and pounding hooves.

  An orange glow lit up the sky. Flames raged as ruthless knights upon charging warhorses torched homes and crops to the ground. Abigale couldn’t move. Everything was happening so fast as if she was dreaming. Marcus stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake to get her attention. “Lady Abigale, ye must leave. There’s no time to waste.” Something instinctual awakened and with much haste she picked the youngest girl up in her arms, while Marcus carried the eldest. Abigale followed him to a thick wooded area. Once they were deep inside the forest and away from the attack, Marcus put the girl down. She quickly ran to Abigale and found comfort in her skirts. “There’s no time to get back to the castle. Ye’ll have to hide in here until I come back for ye.” Marcus gave the order true and firm.

  “Where are ye going?” Surely he wasn’t going to leave them here alone. Abigale couldn’t fight off an attacker. Was he daft?

  “I’m going back to the village. I need to alert James. Find a place to hide. I’ll be back.” Marcus headed back to the village.

  Oh dear Lord, what was she going to do? Her heart was racing so fast she could hear its beats pounding in her ears. What to do… What to do? Abigale turned around, looking in every direction, trying to find a place to hide. Everything was happening so fast, her head started to spin.

  Get it together Abigale Bruce, these girls are depending on ye. They need yer strength, not weakness, she scolded herself. Taking a deep breath she decided to head deeper into the forest. They came across an old yew tree with its trunk hollowed out. A perfect place to hide. Still carrying the wee girl in her arms, Abigale was beginning to feel fatigued. Finally they reached the huge tree trunk just before she thought her arms would give out beneath the heavy weight she carried. “We’ll be safe here,” she reassured the girls. The two girls clung tightly to one another as they sat toward the back of the hollowed yew. With haste Abigale removed her dirk and sat with the children. “Marcus will come back. I promise.” She told herself this several times until she believed it. She put her arms around the girls, squeezing them tight. She kissed their heads, making sure they knew she wasn’t going to leave them.

  ~~~~~

  A massacre symphony played on with gut-wrenching cries of men and women being burned and slaughtered as the English garrison continued their raid with fierce determination on clan Douglas. Marcus dodged a man’s claymore, then stuck the filth in the gut
with the pointy end of his blade, as he made his way toward his horse. Abruptly a knight perched high upon his warhorse stopped Marcus with his sword pointed at Marcus’s throat. Marcus swallowed against the cold steel and felt its prick. Long black feathers protruded from the top of the knight’s helm and flowed down past his shoulders, whipped in the wind. Through the slit of his visor, his cold stare chilled Marcus bone deep. “Where’s the princess, Highlander?” The knight shoved the blade deeper into Marcus’s throat, just enough to prove his point.

  Marcus studied the man for a while as if he was considering how he was going to answer. Or mayhap he was questioning his own motives.

  The warhorse, foaming at the mouth and chomping at the bit, pawed the earth in irritation. “Well, are ye going to tell me or will I have to gut ye?” The knight seethed.

  Marcus looked toward the woods where he’d left Abigale and the girls, then back at the impatient knight.

  The Douglas war cry broke their stance as both men readied for battle. A cruel twisted smile reached across the knight’s lips as he turned and faced the Black Douglas and two hundred of his clansmen.

  ~~~~~

  Abigale was trying desperately to be brave, but if the truth be told she was just as scared as the girls. Time seemed to stand still. In the distance she could hear the blood-curdling cries of villagers, and the tiniest forest sounds seemed louder than they really were. Abigale grew restless. They couldn’t stay hidden in here forever. What if something happened to Marcus? What if those raiders came searching for them? Nay, she couldn’t stay here. She needed to find out what was going on.

  “Girls, I’m going to take a look outside. I need for ye to be brave and stay here until I return,” Abigale insisted. Both girls, with dirt-stained tears streaming from their faces, clung to one another, and the youngest shook her head no. Abigale wiped away the wee girl’s tears. “I promise I won’t be long, little lamb."