Kristin Vayden

by Surviving Scotland

  The mist was beginning to lift in the increasing light of dawn, and I realized I needed to either hide or leave if I didn’t want to be discovered. Silently, I counted to three in my head and then planned on running back to the castle, hoping I wouldn’t meet Ioan on the way. The almost indiscernible path was my only option; I didn’t want to get lost, and as I glanced about, I realized that getting lost was a real possibility. One, two, thr—

  A hand reached around and covered my mouth as an arm snaked around my belly and hauled me back against a strong chest.

  “Donna make a sound, Elle. Shhh,” Ioan whispered in my ear, and for the first time since waking from my fever, I was afraid. What if I’m wrong? What if he’s a threat to my family? Will he hurt me? But even as the thoughts flashed through my mind, I doubted their truth. As if Ioan knew my fear, his grasp gentled and turned into more of a caress, confusing me in an entirely different way. The hand over my mouth fell away, but not before his fingers traced from my jaw down to my neck and past my arm. The movement was quick, as if he was fighting between releasing me completely and holding me tighter, so he picked a middle ground. His arm, which was around my belly, released me as well, but not before his fingers traced my waist with such light pressure I almost thought I imagined it. Where was my teasing and arrogant friend? I didn’t know how to react to this Ioan. The feel of his solid body behind my own was making my thoughts become muddled, and I fought the intense desire to lean into his body farther. I shook my head and stepped away. When I turned to face him, the expression on his face was a mixture of restraint and acceptance. He was a puzzle, but rather than be confused, I found myself intrigued and gripped by a fierce desire to know what went on in his head, in his heart. I was quickly learning a truth: Ioan wasn’t all that he seemed.

  “Elle, what are ye doin’ here? Do ye want ta give yer uncle a reason ta lock ye in yer room? Or perhaps ye want him ta kill me!” Ioan fiercely whispered. Gone was the first expression that stirred me, and in its place was an impatient glare.

  “Donna start with me, Ioan!” I whispered back with my own fierce indignation. “Ye’re the one who is off sneakin’ through the highlands afore dawn an’ havin’ secret meetin’s. What are ye doin’ here, Ioan? Answer me that!” I placed my hands on my hips and leaned back slightly, glaring and daring him to chastise me again.

  “‘Tis none o’ yer business. But you, out an’ about when all the other sane lasses are snug in their beds, are my business. Yer uncle will have my hide!” Ioan took a step toward me and grabbed my arm and pulled me along the path back to the keep.

  “Let me go, ye overgrown lout.”

  “Better a lout than what yer going to be if yer uncle finds out.”

  “I’ll just tell him I was followin’ you!”

  At that, Ioan abruptly stopped and spun on his boot. A curse was whispered in his rich baritone and I glared at him.

  “Donna expect me ta apologize,” Ioan muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it from its tie at the back. The overgrown locks appeared to be untamable, much like Ioan. He raised his head to the sky and heaved a large sigh.

  “Elle, ye canna tell yer uncle about what I was doin’.”

  “Oh, and why?”

  I pulled my plaid up over my shoulders again, as it had slipped down, and I shrugged into the warmth.

  “I canna tell ye.”

  Ioan turned slowly to face me. The weight of the world seemed to balance on his shoulders, and I wondered what he carried there.

  “So ye donna trust me?” I placed my hands on my hips and waited.

  “Lass, ‘tisn’t about me trustin’ ye. ‘Tis about me no’ trustin’… others. I willna’ put ye in danger just ta satisfy yer curiosity. Regardless o’ what ye think o’ me, I’m a better man than that.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. The resolute way his eyes fastened on mine said I was not going to get any more information from Ioan on the subject. He stood straighter and offered me a sorry excuse for a smile and began to walk away. After a few steps he glanced back.

  “Are ye comin’ or are ye wantin’ to wait fer the wolves?”

  “Wolves?”

  “Aye.”

  I ran to catch up with him and smacked him on the head when he began to chuckle. When would I ever learn?

  ****

  “Have ye taken leave of all yer senses? Didn’t I just tell ye both that Elle was no’ to leave the keep? And where do I find ye? Frolickin’ in the mist like two fae! You!” My uncle pointed to me. “Stubborn, just like yer mither, God rest her soul, but ye will be the death of me! Ye will! I swear it! I will lock ye in yer room, if I find ye out of the walls again without my permission!” He turned to glare at Ioan. “And you! Ta think ye were part o’ the Black Watch! Ye canna even carry out a wee assignment like keepin’ a lass home! Let Scotland no’ be in the hands o’ the likes o’ ye!” he lamented and turned, pacing the floor. He paused for a moment, heavily breathing and shaking his head.

  “Now, what were ye doin’ out at the wee reaches o’ the morn?”

  I glanced to Ioan but his expression was unreadable. The usual twinkle in his eye was gone, and the warmth that radiated from his personality was replaced with a frigid coolness. He glanced at me, his eyes cold but resigned, as if he expected me to tell on him. Where did my loyalty lie? My uncle cleared his throat, waiting for an explanation from me or Ioan. What do I do? If I told my uncle about Ioan’s mysterious meeting, then I’d lose Ioan. A part of me knew that instinctively. Yet, if I kept his secret, I was choosing him over family — over my uncle — and wasn’t that wrong? My hands grew damp from the stress and I glanced down, closing my eyes, trying to make a decision.

  “‘Twas my fault an’ I take full responsibility—”

  “Uncle, Ioan followed me.” I interrupted Ioan, halting his attempt to take the fall. His gaze cut to mine with a shocked expression. I took a step forward and addressed my uncle. “I was curious and got lost. ‘Twas dark, an’ the mist made it hard ta find me way home. Ioan rescued me, truly. I didn’t realize I had gone so far, Uncle. I tho’ I was much nearer; the mists were deceiving.”

  And it was the truth, mostly. I was curious and I did get lost. I wouldn’t have found my way home if Ioan hadn’t rescued me. Though it wasn’t a lie, I knew it wasn’t the full truth either, and I hoped I had made the right choice. But when Ioan had clearly intended to take the fall for me, either my pride or cursed attraction to him couldn’t let him shoulder the blame.

  “Lass, I donna ken what I’m goin’ ta do with ye. Yer room. Now.” My uncle pointed to the stairs, and I nodded and walked away. I cast a glance back toward Ioan and he was watching me, a strange expression on his face. I offered him a small smile and went to my room.

  I wasn’t at all surprised when I heard a knock on my door. Reluctantly, I rose to answer it. Morag’s smile surprised me, and I let her into the room, glancing behind her to see if my uncle was going to make an appearance. Wasn’t I to be locked in my room? I deserved it. I did disobey him, but that didn’t mean I wanted it.

  “Lassie?” Morag called to me, and after casting once last glance down the hall, I closed the door and walked over to her. “Ye are lookin’ well. Some pink to yer cheeks.” Morag nodded as she began to run her gnarled fingers over my wrists, neck, and face, checking for something. “Ye are certainly a blessed one. Aside from the loss o’ some o’ yer weight, ye are as fit as afore ye took ill. We’ll thank the good Lord for that, we will.” She nodded and went to the fire to stoke it a bit.

  I watched her poke at a log and send sparks flying through the hearth.

  “Morag?”

  “Yes?” She glanced back at me and straightened her back carefully, placing the poker to the edge of the wall.

  “Who was… am I?”

  Morag’s face softened and she gestured for me to sit down. The wooden chairs were hard against my backside, and I wondered how uncomfortable they had to be for her. A quick flash of an image of soft broca
ded chairs, covered in velvet, crossed my mind then disappeared. They seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Shaking my head, I glanced back to Morag and waited.

  “Lass, ‘tis a hard thing ta suffer loss like yerself. I canna imagine what it feels like to miss part o’ yerself.”

  “It is difficult, but part o’ me is so busy learning and surviving that I almost don’t have time to worry about it,” I spoke quietly.

  “‘Tis a blessin’ then, lass. Now then. Where shall I start? The beginnin’s always a good place.” She chuckled to herself and then sobered, her blue eyes twinkling in the firelight.

  “Lass, ye were always an impetuous one. Trouble. That should have been yer middle name. Yer mither and father loved ye dearly an’ wished ta have more children, but a fever prevented yer mother from conceiving again.”

  “Did they love each other?”

  “Aye, verra much.”

  I smiled at the thought. Was there anything better than to know yourself to be born of love?

  “Yer mither, ach she was a bonny lass. Same rich golden waves o’ hair and sparklin’ blue eyes such as yerself. But she was taller.” Morag nodded, as if proud of her assessment.

  “Yer father was dark-haired with eyes that seemed black, but he always wore a smile. Yer mither would tease him so about his beard being unruly. Once he awoke with it braided and tied with a piece of leather. It was done as a joke, but yer father wore it all day, tellin’ the young lads that it was the way of marriage. Needless to say, they were none too thrilled with the prospect after that. They soon got over it, but I’ll never ferget Ioan’s face when he saw yer father like that. Swore he’d never get married ta a woman who’d do a thing like that.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me…” I chuckled.

  “Ioan was always yer partner in crime but, as ye got older, something changed in him. I donna ken what. Probably the realization that ye were a girl, and him bein’ a boy meant he couldna play with ye and no’ get teased fer it. Ye didn’t take it well, his change. A few times ye stuck frogs in his bed, but he returned the favor and ye quit.” Morag shook her head. “Yer father passed from a wound in the battle of Sherrifmuir. Yer mither lived a few years longer, but passed when ye were only about seventeen. Yer uncle has been yer guardian since, and takes his job verra seriously, as ye have noticed.”

  I nodded. The loss of my parents was difficult to swallow. Hearing the details made it more real. So much loss. No wonder my uncle was suffocating in his care. He had lost just as much as I.

  “Is my uncle married?”

  “He was, years ago. A bonny lass, but she died during childbirth, both her and the bairn dinna survive. He swore he’d never marry after that and has kept his word.”

  “I canna imagine losing a child.” I shook my head.

  “‘Tis a difficult thing, ta be sure.”

  “Is that why he’s so cautious with me? He’s afraid I’ll die as well?” I asked after a moment of contemplation.

  “Aye, ye’re a quick lass. ‘Tis the truth, or so it would seem. So donna be hard on him. Ye’re his only family and lass, ye’re the heir.

  “Heir?”

  “Aye, his last relation. When ye marry, yer husband will be laird.”

  The realization startled me. It made sense but, me? I couldn’t keep myself out of trouble; how was I to help lead a clan?

  “Donna fash yerself, lass. ‘Twillna be fer a long while. By then you’ll be married to a braw warrior with bairns tuggin’ at yer skirts.”

  As she mentioned a braw warrior, a picture of Ioan appeared in my mind, grinning at me. Another picture of him standing in the mist this morning, strong and unwavering, flickered next, and my face warmed. Perhaps he wasn’t as annoying as I’d originally thought.

  “Well, lass, I best be leavin’. We’ll see ye fer dinner tonight.” Morag slapped her knees and rose carefully. She came over to my chair and patted my shoulder, then walked toward the door.

  “Morag, wait…” I called and stood up. “Speakin’ o’ dinner… what are neeps an’ tatties?”

  “Turnips an’ potatoes… why do ye ask?”

  “Oh, no reason. Thank ye.”

  She nodded and left. I sat back down and amended my thoughts on Ioan. Yes, he really was that annoying.

  Chapter Five

  As evening approached, I walked to the large hall for supper. The room buzzed with people conversing and women serving ale and food. I scanned the crowd and picked a table sparsely populated and waited. After a moment, Ioan came up and plopped himself beside me. He reached across the table to pick up a roll and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. He grinned at me with overstuffed cheeks, and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. He winked at me and I rolled my eyes and reached for one as well, but tore off a tiny piece and popped it in my mouth. The heavy richness of the bread made my mouth water.

  Soon we filled trenchers with food, and I glanced around for some kind of utensil. To pick up the food with my bare hands seemed strange, wrong. Surely there was another way?

  “What? Ye’ve forgotten how ta eat as well?” Ioan asked, once he swallowed a mouthful.

  “Nay, I just don’t want ta eat, like that.” I regarded the men around me, eating with their knives from trenchers, using their hands more often than not.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Ioan picked up a hunk of meat with his hand and made a show of shoving the whole thing in his mouth. I suppressed a gag reflex at the juice dripping down his chin.

  “Disgusting.”

  “Thank ye.” Ioan spoke with his mouth full of food. His eyes twinkled, and I found myself laughing at his inability to chew the large bite in his mouth. I raised my eyebrow at his effort to manage it. His eyes narrowed and he made a show of swallowing the food almost whole. He rewarded my grimace with an open mouth, proving he had done it.

  “Do ye want me ta pat ye on the back?” I asked with complete sarcasm.

  “Aye, I think it’s stuck.” Ioan began to cough and I slammed my fist into his back, and he groaned.

  “Ye’ve made it worse.”

  “‘Tis your own fault, ye lout.” My concern grew as his coughing became more violent. “What should I do?” I asked, beginning to panic.

  The coughing turned into laughter and Ioan began to shake with his mirth. I had been fooled. The anger built inside of me, and I elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

  “Ach, lass, donna do that. ‘Tis rude to hurt others when they’re chokin’ ta death.”

  “Ye weren’t chokin’. Ye were playin’ me fer the fool! Ta think I was actually concerned about ye!” I pushed his shoulder as I spoke. I glanced around, curious if we had drawn attention by our antics. No one was even looking our direction. The hall buzzed with noise, and I was thankful.

  “Ach, lass, donna take it so personal. ‘Twas just a bit o’ fun.”

  “We’ll see… you’ll be payin’ dearly for that bit o’ fun, Ioan. Just you wait.”

  “I’m truly set a fright already.” Ioan held his hands to his chest and shook, offering me a frightened look before he grinned at me, patted my head, and continued eating.

  I glared at him, silently shooting daggers from my eyes, but he carried on with his meal without a care. Reluctantly, I picked up a piece of meat and brought it to my lips. I was hungry. The food was hearty and tasted wonderful, so I quickly finished my plate.

  “That wa’n’t so bad now, was it?” Ioan nudged me, causing me to spill my drink over my lap.

  “I thank ye, Ioan. Fer a moment I was thinkin’ I wanted ta drink that water rather than wear it,” I commented sarcastically.

  “Aye, ‘twas my gentle reminder that ye need to be takin’ a bath… ye kinda smell.” He leaned forward and wrinkled his nose, sniffing.

  “If’n ye smell somethin’, Ioan, donna look any farther than yerself. I’ve been around fresher pigs.” I spoke softly in efforts to try and control my temper.

  “I’d believe ye, lass, but ye canna remember that, can ye?” With a wink he patted m
e on the head and walked away, whistling.

  ****

  It was the oddest sensation. To be somewhere and know that it should be familiar, yet feel like a stranger. Though I was growing accustomed to life at the castle, a nagging emotion pricked my mind and told me I was still missing something crucial. Over the next few days I continued to have a few flashes of memory here and there, but they always amounted to the same feeling of confusion.

  A week passed with each day suffocating me, as I was still confined to the castle. Morag tried to give me projects such as embroidery or cleaning, but I longed for the outdoors. Finally, I approached my uncle, prepared to beg for the slightest measure of freedom. But Ioan intercepted my approach and with a grin, invited me on a walk to the nearby loch. My uncle stood behind him and nodded solemnly, giving me an expression that reminded me to be on guard. I nodded and followed Ioan out into the blessed sunshine.

  “So, do ye want ta go huntin’ for neeps an’ tatties tonight?” I purposefully asked, as Ioan took a deep drink of water from a clear stream that fed the loch. Just as I had hoped, he choked and sputtered on the liquid and coughed.

  “Ye deserve that.”

  He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and gave me an unrepentant grin as he coughed some more.

  “Did ye really think I’d believe ye?” I asked indigently.

  “Lass, ye did believe me. Who did ye ask?” He cleared his throat then crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree, waiting for my response.

  “‘Tis none o’ yer business.”