“Agatha, stop this nonsense. What is the matter with ye?” Jon reprimanded. Agatha broke down, hiding her face in her hands and crying.
“Agatha?” Jon exclaimed, taken aback. “Are ye all right?”
“Mama?!” Ewan shrieked, feeling scared about his mother crying.
Agatha tried to calm down, wiping her tears but they just wouldn’t stop flowing.
“Shh, me love, yer scaring Ewan,” Jon rubbed her back, cooing in her ear as she stopped crying.
“Come here, ye,” Agatha offered her lap to Ewan who curled up on it.
“Me wee lad,” Agatha cradled Ewan close to her chest, kissing his soft cheeks.
Agatha realized she held her entire life in her arms in the carriage.
Chapter 3
Stepping into the Fields
“Mama, why won’t ye wake up?” Isla complained, trying to get her mother’s attention. “It’s almost noon.”
Rushing into the room, Sophie said, “Oh sweetie, let Mama sleep.”
Isla was seven years old now, a walking and talking replica of her parents.
“Mama sleeps all day,” Isla whined, feeling tearful.
She had been promised last night by her mother that they would go for a walk. One of the many promises her mother would make and then break when the time came to fulfil them. Isla didn’t have many distractions in the castle except when she ran out to play with Ewan, who would always come cheer her up. But Isla couldn’t help missing her mother and crave her company, as her mother was always running a headache or fever and wouldn’t come out to play with Isla.
“Mama isn’t feeling well,” Sophie tried to explain but Isla was beyond reasoning.
“MAMA, WAKE UP!” Isla shrieked, not willing to listen to anyone.
“What is going on here?” Helen asked, coming out from under her covers.
She looked the same as always but now appeared completely different. Her eyes were the same shade of green but the shine in them was now dull and faded, looking haunted. Her skin, once glowing and pink all the time, was now pale and hardened. Her mane of red, curly hair was still present but less, and not shiny as before. She was the same, but her sickness had erased any traces of life and light she carried within.
“Mama, come play,” Isla cried as Sophie tried to hold her back.
“Come here,” Helen said, holding out her blanket.
Letting go of Isla, Sophie continued to walk towards the bed, shyly and afraid. Sophie stayed back, her arms open to make sure the bed wouldn’t jostle too much in case Isla began to bounce.
“What is it me lassie?” Helen asked, clearing the hair out of Isla’s face.
“I want to walk with ye. Ye said ye’d take me for a walk,” Isla reminded, sullenly.
“I know me lamb, but I feel very sleepy,” Helen tried to explain.
“Why?” Isla asked, the one question Helen couldn’t answer honestly.
“Because the healer gave me a potion that makes me sleepy,” Helen clarified.
“Don’t drink it then,” Isla suggested, calmer now.
“But then Mama will be very sick,” Sophie added, smiling sadly at Isla.
Isla didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know her mother was dying. That it was a miracle she had survived for so long, nearly seven years. Seven years had been spent waiting to die, waiting for death to come knock at her door. Even though Helen had decided long ago to hide the truth from Fergus, he inevitably had found out. He had noticed how his wife was slowly becoming weaker. Fergus had begged Helen to try new remedies and perhaps that was the only reason she was still alive. Yet, Helen was slowly giving up now. Despite what everyone thought, Helen threw away her medicine, not wanting to mess with the faith God had set for her.
Helen knew Fergus would be furious if he found out, hence she sneakily disposed of it. Helen felt Sophie suspected, but that she also understood Helen was tired now. Things wouldn’t be so hard if Isla weren’t present. Her constant need for love tore at Helen’s heart and made her realize how incompetent she was as a mother.
“I don’t want Mama to be sick,” Isla whispered, hugging her mother.
“Not too tight, dearie,” Sophie advised as Isla quickly pulled away.
Helen smiled at her daughter and suggested, “Why don’t ye go meet da?”
“Where is he?” Isla asked Sophie.
“I think he’s in the stables,” Sophie informed her.
Isla got off the bed and ran out of the room, to find her father, leaving Helen alone with Sophie.
“I’m sorry, Me Lady. She insisted,” Sophie said, helping Helen lie down more comfortably.
“It’s all right. She gets angry about this sometimes,” Helen said, understandingly.
“Won’t it be easier to tell her the truth?” Sophie questioned, her eyebrows creased in confusion.
“She’s too young to understand. She’ll only weep. I don’t like it when she weeps,” Helen sniffled, feeling overcome with emotion.
In the past seven years, Helen had become devoid of emotions, completely stoic and unaffected by anything. The only thing that could trigger her to feel anything was Isla and her husband. Fergus hid his own emotions very well in front of Helen not wanting to worry her more. But Isla was still a child; she didn’t even understand what was going on and hence, would showcase whatever she felt to Helen.
“Me Lady, ye mustn’t cry,” Sophie soothed, rubbing her back.
“Oh Sophie, what kind of a mother am I? I can’t even take me daughter for a walk,” Helen cried, feeling exhausted.
“Ye are the best kind of mother,” Sophie reassured her. “Ye put yerself at risk to bring our Princess Isla into this world. She will forever admire ye for it.”
“How, Sophie? She’s so young,” Helen inquired, not believing her.
“Me Lady, Isla will grow up one day and understand what happened. She will know why ye did what ye did,” Sophie answered.
Helen smiled ruefully, feeling no surprise at how easily they discussed her death. It had become a common thing; everyone was prepared for it. It wouldn’t shock anyone if Helen were to die right this second, as everyone knew the inevitable finally would happen. Helen hadn’t ever imagined that her death would become such an openly discussed topic in the castle. It made her sad but also amused her quite a lot. Like a punchline to a bitter joke.
“Who will tell her? Who’ll help her understand?” Helen wondered out loud.
“I will. Laird Duggal will. And Lady McDonald will,” Sophie comforted Helen, confidently.
Helen was somewhat appeased by the thought. She knew Agatha would take care of her daughter as her own. Isla wouldn’t feel like an orphan so long as Agatha was in her life. In the past seven years, the McDonalds had proven themselves to be the most faithful and trustworthy friends. Helen knew she had been right to trust Agatha with her secret. Even now, Agatha would take Isla home with her when Helen would get really sick, knowing Helen didn’t want Isla to see her in such a condition. Agatha would personally take care of Isla rather than leave her with a wench to be looked after.
Helen eyes filled with tears at the thought of Agatha and how grateful she was being such a good friend to her. The McDonalds had proven to be the strongest of allies. Jon had taken over many battles to allow Fergus time alone and at home with Helen. The past seven years had brought the two men even closer, no longer even fighting over the British. Sometimes even though she didn’t like to think this way Helen felt happy her impending death had done such good things.
As expected by Agatha and Helen, Ewan and Isla had become the closest of friends. Ewan would always be there to cheer up Isla, whenever he wasn’t being trained to take over the clan. Helen had once dreamed of being alive long enough to see him become Laird but knew that would not be possible anymore. However, even as a ten-year-old, Ewan showed promise. He was courteous and intellectual, with good leadership and a determination in his eye. Helen had seen the same determination, a fire to lead their people in Fergu
s and Jon’s eyes. She knew Ewan would be no less than them. In fact, he would be better for he had both Jon and Fergus as mentors.
“Ye should sleep now, Me Lady,” Sophie stated, fluffing up Helen’s pillow and turning to close the curtains.
“If Isla gets upset, take her to the McDonald Castle,” Helen yawned, feeling drowsy again.
Sophie noticed Helen was wincing while talking. “Me Lady, would ye like something for the pain?”
“Nay, I am fine.” Helen lied, “Wake me for the feast.”
“Aye, Me Lady,” Sophie replied from the door before exiting Helen’s private chambers.
With the door closed and the room was suddenly dark; there was no light except for a few specks through the curtain. Helen, once a social and talkative person had grown to like the darkness in the past seven years. It had become her hiding place, where she was most comfortable. Helen closed her eyes, wondering if this slumber would be her last.
“Da, are ye there?” Isla called out, entering the huge stables.
Isla rarely spent any time here, except when Ewan forced her to come. For some reason, Isla did anything Ewan wanted to do, even horse riding despite her terror of horses.
“In here, dearie,” Fergus called out and Isla followed the sound of his voice inside.
“Da, will ye go for a walk with me?” Isla asked, finding him feeding apples to the horses while the stable boys groomed them.
“We can go for a horse ride if ye want. This one just arrived,” Fergus replied, patting a black horse’s side.
Isla couldn’t help but think the horse was beautiful yet not pretty enough for her to get on top of it.
“I don’t like horse riding,” Isla moaned, her mind was made up for an afternoon walk.
‘Ye like it fine when Ewan makes ye do it,” Fergus chortled much to her chagrin.
“Ewan is an oaf and I don’t like it,” Isla snapped, folding her arms petulantly.
“Oh alright, he is braver than ye,” Fergus teased, knowing she would do it to prove her father wrong.
Isla stomped her foot on the ground. “Nay, he is not. I’m a Duggal, and we are the bravest!”
“Now, now. We all know what they say about talkers…” Fergus joked as Isla fumed.
“Fine, ye can be like mama. I’ll walk alone,” Isla told him, turning to walk away.
Fergus felt guilty for taking it too far and ran after her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“What did Mama do?” Fergus asked, trying to calm Isla down.
“She said she’d walk with me but now she sleeps in her room,” Isla pouted, feeling betrayed.
“Oh lassie, she’s sick. She can’t strain herself like ye and I can,” Fergus offered a reasonable explanation.
Even though he didn’t agree with Helen about keeping the truth hidden from Isla, Fergus respected her decision and choice.
“She’s always sick,” Isla said, sarcastically.
“Now hold on, young lass. Why are ye being so rude?” Fergus scolded.
Even though he understood why Isla lashed out in such a way, Fergus didn’t want to be the parent who gave her leeway even when she was being a brat.
Feeling dejected, Isla sighed, “I’m sorry, Da. I just wish Mama and I could spend time together.”
“I know, dearie,” Fergus whispered into the wind, feeling the same forlorn feeling as her daughter.
Fergus hated pretending everything was going to be okay; however, he had to pretend for Helen’s sake. Or else Helen would hide her pain from him. Fergus didn’t allow himself to cry in front of her or even show how he felt, knowing it would worry her. Fergus kept hoping for the first few years, but as time passed, he simply stopped hoping. Anything could happen at any moment and Fergus wouldn’t know what to do. He would be at faith’s mercy. He would have to put on a brave face and accept his fate.
Fergus wanted to lift his daughter’s feelings. “Why don’t ye visit Aunt Agatha and Ewan?”
“Can I?” Isla asked, excitedly.
“Aye!” Fergus agreed, happy to see her smiling again.
“Oh, but I have lessons with Mrs. Smith….” Isla said, mentioning her etiquette tutor.
“Ye can skip a day so long as ye don’t tell yer mama.” Fergus winked.
“Thanks, Da! Yer wonderful,” Isla chirped, hugging him tightly before running back to the castle.
Sometimes, meeting Ewan was the only thing that made Isla happy in her otherwise lonely life. Isla didn’t like being ungrateful, but she envied Ewan for having a mother who was always present and taking care of him. Isla loved her mother, but she couldn’t help but wish Helen was more like Agatha.
“Master Ewan, eyes on the target….” The archery tutor whispered into Ewan’s ear from behind him as Ewan tried to aim at the red dot on the board.
“Take a deep breath,” The tutor instructed, and Ewan followed his instruction.
Ewan locked his eyes on the target, taking in a deep breath as his arrow pointed directly at the target.
“Release…” The tutor ordered, and Ewan let go.
The arrow flew out from his bow, rushing towards the red dot and hit it right in the center, going halfway through the board.
“Splendid!” The tutor complimented, taking Ewan’s bow to place another arrow. “Another, master?”
“Aye,” Ewan replied, hoisting the bow up and positioning the arrow properly again.
Ewan had been practicing since the morning and felt utterly exhausted. Yet he knew his father would be proud to hear how long he had practiced; hence he kept pushing himself to practice. He felt bored but didn’t know what would be better to do with his day. The only time Ewan could ever have fun was if Isla came over, which didn’t seem likely today as she had, excitedly, told him about her plan for the day. She was going to spend it with her mother; they were going to take a walk together.
Ewan was excited for Isla, knowing how much she craved her mother’s company. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel if his mother didn’t spend as much time as she did with him. Ewan wondered if he could meet Isla in the evening or go to the Duggal Castle for the night feast. His mind began to think about Isla and all the mischief they could do together, making him lose focus.
“Release,” The tutor said, breaking Ewan out of his thoughts as he released the arrow.
It missed the goal completely and Ewan turned red in anger.
“It’s alright, master. One more?” The tutor offered, as Ewan closed his eyes to focus.
“Aye.” Ewan huffed out, raising his bow again.
He didn’t miss this time as the arrow plunged into the board, breaking through and flying out from the other side.
“Very good, master. The Laird will be pleased to hear about this,” The tutor told Ewan who smiled and feeling much better now.
“I think enough for the day,” Ewan replied to the tutor who nodded before retreating to pack up the archery armor.
Ewan took a deep breath before heading out of the training grounds and back towards the castle. He was walking through the main grounds when he saw a carriage pull in towards the entrance. He didn’t think twice to know whose carriage that was as he raced to it, eager to meet Isla.
“Isla!” Ewan called out, waving at her from the distance.
“Ewan!” Isla squealed, running to him rather than heading inside the castle.
They met halfway on the grounds as Isla hugged him, making him fall on the grass; both breaking out in giggles.
“What are ye doing here?” Ewan asked her breathlessly.
“I came to spend time with ye! Da said I can skip me tutoring for the day.” Isla told him, smugly.
“Nay, I mean, weren’t ye supposed to be with Auntie?” Ewan asked, dismayed by her hurt expression.
Ewan didn’t have to ask what had happened as he wrapped his arm on her shoulder, racking his brain for a way to cheer her up. He helped her off the grass as they began walking to the castle.
“She didn’t want to tak
e a walk. She was sick,” Isla spoke after a second of silence.
“It’s alright, Isla. Maybe she was tired,” Ewan comforted, giving her a dimply smile.
“Maybe,” Isla shrugged, wanting to change the topic.
“Da thinks yer braver than me!” Isla scoffed, successfully switching the subject.
“He wouldn’t dare!” Ewan said in mock horror. “I have nothing on ye, o brave warrior Isla!”
“Bow down to me, peasant!” Isla giggled, enjoying their familiar teasing.
Ewan would always light up her mood in a mere few seconds, without any awkwardness. They had been friends since Isla had been born and knew each other quite well.
“Pardon, ye mean future Laird.” Ewan corrected, cockily.
“Oh please, I’m yer princess,” Isla added as they giggled again.
In their innocence, they created a whole new world; a world where no one was dying, and no one was fighting. Only happiness and joy bloomed in their imaginary world; a place Isla ran off to when her mother’s absence became too much on her. Ewan would open the door for her and the two children would play until their minds were exhausted.
The children spent the entire day together, running here and there all around the castle and losing themselves in the innocent daze of being oblivious to the worries of the world around them. It wasn’t their burden to bear, not yet at least. For now, they were two free birds, not bound by duty nor responsibility. A girl of seven years and a boy of ten years, which was all these two were for now. They were not a Princess and not a future Laird.
When the time came for Isla to head back to her home, the Duggal Castle, a gloomy aura surrounded her and engulfed her whole spirit, making her remember what waited for her there. Nothing. That was true. Her mother would be asleep as was customary and her father would be busy in his political meetings. Isla would walk here and there, completely bored before being summoned for the evening feast.
“Hey, Isla. Cheer up. Mama says ye can come back tomorrow!” Ewan gushed, trying to lift her spirits.
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