Kristin Vayden

by Surviving Scotland

  With determination, I wrapped an extra plaid around my body and descended the stairs quietly. I searched the stables for Ioan or Cullon but couldn’t find them. So, with a wary spirit, I mounted Dag and headed for the glen, hoping the night would protect me from watching eyes.

  The forest was quiet, save for a lonely howl or piercing cry of a predatory bird. I hunkered down over Dag’s back, searching the trees for any sign that I was being watched. When the glen came into view, I thanked the Lord for a full moon that bathed the open area in silver light. With Dag’s reigns tied to a tree, I walked over to where I stood just before running. In the moonlight, a dark object jutted out not ten paces from me. The rock! On my hands and knees, I crawled in the direction of the strange form and searched the ground. My hands brushed an object that tinkled. With careful movements, I patted the ground till I found what made the noise. Drawing it up, the coins on my necklace clinked as they settled at the bottom. I grasped the muddy treasure to my chest. Could it be true? Did I find it? My fingers caressed it, making sure it was real.

  I rose and ran to Dag and began to untie his reins when I heard a twig snap. I froze and listened intently. The glen was still, but it wasn’t a normal still. The animals were silent, and Dag’s ears were pricked forward as he watched the tree line warily. Steam from his nostrils blew into the night with focused precision, as I felt his body tense. In a moment I swept onto his back and nudged him to run. Though the road was dark from the trees blocking the light, I trusted that Dag knew the road well enough to not fall. We thundered down the way, with me casting constant glances behind me for a pursuer. Sure enough, a dark figure rose from the mist and began to gain on me. His horse snorted as the figure leaned forward, urging his mount faster.

  “Go, Dag,” I urged, praying I’d make it home. The figure was inching closer, and I began to doubt I’d outrun him. I made a quick decision and turned Dag into the trees and leapt from his back. I slapped his rump as hard as I could and he took off in a gallop for the road. At the sound of his retreat, I rushed deeper into the woods and waited, hoping my plan to deceive my pursuer would work.

  The necklace was safely tucked into my bodice, but I quickly pressed it down further, just in case, and I hid behind a wide, fat trunk. The sound of my heartbeat pounded loud in my ears, as I waited for the hoofbeats of my pursuer. The muted thud of hooves caused me to hold my breath. He was no longer urging his horse into breakneck speed, but was walking carefully, as if searching for something, or someone. The sound of the horse’s leisurely pace halted, and I heard the sound of heavy footsteps hit the ground. He knew I was there. I ran through the trees, ducking branches that tried to aid my enemy and trip me up. Agile footsteps grew closer till I went sailing into the mud, captured. I kicked my legs and wrenched around, biting my captor’s hand as it covered my mouth, silencing a scream. When he jerked his hand back in pain, I screamed again.

  “A feisty wench, aren’t ye?” a dark voice rumbled against my neck as he grasped my arms tightly, preventing any movement. My skin crawled as he smelled the skin at my throat.

  “Donna touch me,” I spoke darkly.

  “Aye, I believe I will… ye’ve caused quite a bit o’ trouble for us, ye ken.” He pulled down the Arisaid further and licked my exposed flesh under my ear. I shivered with fear. “If only yer uncle had allowed us ta use his castle as a post, none o’ this woulda happened.” He spoke against my flesh, tasting it once more. “And now, look where it got him? No’ ta mention his other… problems.”

  “Let me go!” I shouted.

  He spun me around and slapped me across the face. Defiantly, I righted myself and glared at his dark shadowed face.

  “Ye will come with me, lass. And yer uncle will give us what we demand…” His threat echoed in the darkness.

  Before I could anticipate his movements, I was bound savagely with a rough rope that tied my hands together. He pushed me through the forest till we met the road.

  He tied the end of the rope to the saddle then mounted, pulling me behind. I tried to resist but the rope bit into my wrists, causing me to grit my teeth against the pain.

  “Lucky fer ye, we need ye alive. Yer no use ta us otherwise, but… I think we’ll have some fun with ye afore ye’re set free.” His dark laughter chilled my blood. After a few minutes he let out a shrill whistle, and moments later, five other men on horseback joined us on the road. They nodded at my captor, but otherwise remained silent. As we walked, I prayed that Dag went home, raising an alarm that perhaps I was in danger. We wandered from the road and into thick forest, and my hopes of rescue plummeted. The only sound was the steady breathing of the horses. Occasionally I’d trip and right myself but the men’s mocking laughter boiled my blood. My captor halted the party with a fist in the air. His head swung from side to side, as he seemed to listen intently. The horses began to prance impatiently, and I began to silently struggle with the knots in the rope around my wrists. My captor glanced to me, then behind.

  “Where are Blar and Art?”

  I turned and, sure enough, two men were missing. Now only three remained, all casting confused and stunned expressions in the moonlight. At once, a mighty warcry echoed through the trees, and I spun around at the sound, just in time to see a large claymore wielded at my captor. He ducked, but my rope was severed, and I turned to run. My progress halted. The man behind me cut off my path to escape. He held me tightly against his heaving chest while his hand squeezed my neck.

  The sound of metal clashing drew my attention, and I glanced up to see my captor slide from his horse in a bloody heap. My rescuer advanced against the next man who was charging him with a dagger. The moonlight caught his features, and my breath stilled in my chest. Ioan. Ioan was no longer my teasing lover, but a mighty warrior of the Black Watch, and I trembled at the fierce expression on his face, as he struck down another enemy. With only one left, he advanced but paused, as the lone enemy raised a dagger to my throat.

  “Donna take a step or the lass dies.”

  Immediately Ioan’s claymore dropped to the ground with a loud thud. He raised both hands in surrender.

  “What o’ me?” came the distracting call of Cullon. My captor made the grave error of glancing to the sound of Cullon’s taunt and was rewarded with Ioan’s dagger through his forehead in a true aim. My captor’s lifeless body slumped to the ground, and my knees gave way. Ioan reached for me and lifted me gently into his arms as I sobbed.

  “Ioan, ye came, ye came.”

  “Aye, lass. Dinna I just finish tellin’ ye how much I loved chasin’ ye?”

  “‘Tis better ta be caught, Ioan. ‘Tis much better ta be caught,” I mumbled into his shirt and trembled with fear at what could have happened.

  “Once me heart settles, I’m goin’ ta berate ye mercilessly fer sneakin’ out on yer own. But fer now I just need ta hold ye, ta know ye’re alive, well, an’ in me arms,” Ioan whispered into my hair as he held me tightly.

  “‘Twas a good aim. I donna ken if I’d have done as well, cousin,” Cullon spoke as he regarded, with a wary eye, the dagger hilt protruding from the enemy.

  Ioan ignored Cullon’s praise and pulled me into a fierce kiss. I returned his warm affection with a desperate need. Neither of us heard the men’s approach ‘til my uncle’s cry of my name broke through my passionate endeavours.

  “Elle? Elle!” My uncle’s voice caught as I turned to see his face.

  “I could have lost ye! What were ye thinkin?”

  Ioan set me down gently, and I walked over to my uncle and embraced him, choking on my air as he squeezed me far too tightly.

  “Are ye well, lass? Did they reach ye in time?” my uncle asked and pulled me back so he could study my face.

  I nodded.

  “Thank the Lord,” he whispered as he crushed me into a hug once more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When we returned to the keep, I was given a thorough look-over by Morag, whose warm hands and frequent hugs stilled my rattled nerves. A
fter a warm bath and a hot meal shared with Ioan, I decided to speak with my uncle and give him the treasure I’d hidden well. His study was darker than usual as I entered after he answered my knock.

  “Are ye truly well, Elle?” he asked in a concerned tone.

  “Aye. I truly am. I owe Ioan me life, Uncle.”

  “As do I, as do I.” He nodded then ran his hands down his face.

  “Why did ye leave, Elle? Where were ye? Didn’t ye remember me warnings?” he scolded gently with watery eyes.

  “Aye, ‘twas foolish, nothing but foolish. Fergive me?” I asked quietly, knowing my folly could have ruined not only my life, but also that of Ioan and my uncle. “I left ta find somethin’ I’d lost. I thought ye might have use fer it.” I held out the necklace and placed it on my uncle’s desk.

  “Where did ye get these, lass?” my uncle asked with an ashen face.

  “They were a gift,” I answered, not knowing how to explain.

  “This canna be.” My uncle shook his head then ran his fingers over the coins once more. “I canna believe it.”

  “I donna understand…” I trailed off as my uncle continued to shake his head with a shocked expression.

  “Yer mither. This was her inheritance.” He paused and cleared his throat. “But yer father invested it in a risky venture somewhere in England. He was convinced he could amend what happened when me father invested in a different project. We were told it was a complete loss, which only added ta our financial problems.” My uncle’s voice was softer, as the confusion and shock gave way to acceptance and wonder. “Yer mither had her coins pierced so she could wear them, yet she gave them willin’ly ta yer father. I never understood it.”

  I waited silently.

  “Yet ye were given them as a gift, ye say? From whom?”

  “‘Tis difficult ta explain…”

  “It doesn’t matter.” My uncle waved his hand in my direction, silencing me.

  “Elle, ye must keep these—”

  “No, ‘tis yers.”

  “What?”

  “‘Tis yers, Uncle. ‘Tis fer the clan. They are yer responsibility an’ are mine as well. ‘Tis fer them.” I nodded as my uncle opened then closed his mouth at a loss for words.

  “Ioan—”

  “Ioan agrees with me.”

  My uncle set the necklace down and regarded me with a gentle expression.

  “Yer clan thanks ye and yer betrothed, lass.”

  I nodded and stood to take my leave.

  “Oh, Uncle? I have one question fer ye, about the box ye gave me.”

  “Ah, got that, did ye?”

  “Aye, Ioan brought it to me room shortly… after.”

  “I see… and what was yer question, lass?”

  “I understood the plaid to be me mither’s, but what about the knife an’ strange objects at the bottom?”

  “Ah, the knife with the bone handle?” my uncle asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Aye.”

  “T’was yer father’s ancestors’. ‘Tis a grand story…” He paused and gestured to a chair. “Ye best sit. ‘Tis a longer story. One yer mither loved.”

  I nodded and sat, folding my hands on my lap.

  “Long ago, during the reign o’ King Harald, many o’ the Norse sought refuge from his tyranny. Because our beloved Scotland carries a similar climate as that o’ Scandinavia, many came here. ‘Twas no’ a peaceful time, and many a village was overwhelmed with Viking warriors seekin’ a place ta call their own. One village, far north, was invaded by a fearsome legend o’ the Norse people, Odin. Named fer the king o’ Norse gods, Odin was feared by all who had heard o’ his many conquests. Ruthless in battle, and strong as ten men, he would fight fer days on end in order ta secure victory. When he was accused o’ betrayin’ King Harald, he escaped durin’ the night ta his one love, the sea.”

  “He arrived in Scotland an’ attacked the village I spoke about. Yet, in that village was a brave young woman. When the Vikings began their attack, she hid in the trees an’ waited. The village quickly surrendered, an’ the warriors plundered the poor peasants. The young woman lingered, an’ as night fell she, silent as a shadow, crept into the Viking’s camp. Now, because the warriors had drunk far too much ale, they slept soundly, unafraid of attack. She crept into Odin’s tent and held his own knife ta his throat. He awoke with a start and tried ta move, but she held fast, unwavering. He asked her what she wanted.

  “‘Me home, me family. Everythin’ ye have taken away,’ she whispered. With a quick movement, Oden overpowered her, knocking the knife, a knife with a bone handle, far away. She reached fer it but was pinned beneath the mighty warrior. She stared defiantly inta his eyes, conscious she was about ta die. But Oden, though a fierce warrior, was moved by her plea, havin’ recently experienced the loss of a home, as well. He extended her mercy, but he wanted somethin’ in return.”

  I sat riveted to my seat as I pictured the scene unfolding in my mind. My uncle grinned at my rapturous attention and paused longer than necessary.

  “What? What did he want?” I prodded impatiently.

  “He wanted her. Never had a woman snuck inta his tent intent on killin’ him in order ta save others. He was moved by her beauty an’ loyalty ta her village.”

  “Did she agree?”

  “No’ at first.” My uncle shook his head.

  “What happened?”

  “‘I’ll no’ marry such a man as you, ye best kill me now,’ she swore the words and glared rebelliously at him.

  “‘Yes, you will,’ he swore, but released her, stood, and ordered the prisoners set free as well. Eventually, they did marry, but ‘twas a difficult road. There were many obstacles, yet their love grew strong.”

  I nodded, taking in the story.

  “And now I have the knife that belonged to Oden?” I asked with wonder.

  “Aye, ye do. And a few other of his personal possessions.”

  “‘Tis wondrous.”

  “Indeed.” My uncle nodded.

  I stood once again. “Thank ye, fer sharin’ yer story,” I spoke with heartfelt thanks.

  “‘Tis no trouble a’tall. Ye should know where ye come from.”

  “I thank ye, again.” I walked out into the hall and rushed to my room. I wanted to hold Oden’s knife.

  ****

  The next few days left me as prisoner within the walls of the keep. Only once did Ioan escort me outside to check on Dag, and only because I begged him mercilessly for an hour. His hand was on the hilt of his dagger the entire time we were outside the walls, though we still remained within the gates.

  “I donna like this, Elle. ‘Twould be best if we returned ta the keep,” Ioan spoke as his eyes shifted from one side of the courtyard wall to the other.

  “Ioan, I’ll only be a moment,” I mumbled, as I gave a carrot to my nickering horse.

  “Time’s up.” Ioan grasped my elbow and guided me toward the stable door. I shot him an impatient glare but followed. I was feeling trapped and needed some fresh air; Dag was the only excuse I could think up, and now my short-lived freedom was ended.

  “How long am I ta a be a prisoner in me own home?”

  “‘Til me missive ta the commander o’ the Black Watch is received, an’ they come ta settle the score.”

  “But ye’ll stay with me… right?” I questioned as my mind conjured images of Ioan in battle and the potential of him injured, or worse. Ioan didn’t answer me, yet watched the gate as we entered the door to the keep.

  “Ioan?”

  “Aye?”

  “Are ye goin’ ta answer?”

  “Nay.” He laced his fingers through my own and led me down the hall into a sitting room off the left.

  “Nay, as in, ye aren’t goin’ ta answer, or nay, as in, ye willna be with me?”

  “Nay, as in, I donna ken where I’ll be, Elle. ‘Tis no’ my decision.”

  “Oh.”

  “But donna worry about me.”

  “Too late.”

/>   He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. He sat down on a horsehair chair and laid his head back, closing his eyes. I sat next to him on another chair and waited, curious at his reaction.

  “Ye are tellin’ me ye are worried? Think about the past few months, Elle! How many times do ye think I about expired from worryin’ about ye? No! Even in the past few days! How often do ye think I about went crazy wonderin’ if I’d ever see ye alive? Or if ye came back alive, but yer heart shattered because o’ some bas—” Ioan cut his words short and stood abruptly, proceeding to pace the room. “I can defend meself, Elle. But if somethin’ were ta happen ta ye, ‘twould be more severe a threat ta me life than any enemy.” He turned a somber gaze to me and I read the depth of his fear and anxiety.

  “Ioan…” I began, uncertain on how to finish.

  “I donna ken what ta say ta make ye understand, Elle.” He ran his fingers down his face. “If ye want ta protect me, Elle… protect yerself. The only threat I fear in this world is losin’ ye.”

  “Aye, Ioan.” I nodded, ashamed of my impatience.”Ioan? Do ye understand why I went ta the glen? Did me uncle tell ye?” I spoke after a moment of reflection.