There Your Heart Will Be Also

by Felicia Rogers

  Charism picked up the glowing dagger, nodding to the men to secure Gavin. Sarra’s forehead beaded with sweat. As the tip of the dagger touched Gavin’s lacerated flesh, he let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Sarra shook from head to toe as the room swayed. Afraid to show weakness by covering her ears with her hands, instead she remained inanimate, exuding a false strength. When Gavin passed out from the pain, an eerie silence fell.

  Charism finished quickly, added some ointment to the blackened area and bound the arm with a bandage. A shift in the wind brought the smell of burnt flesh to Sarra’s nostrils. The bile held back from earlier threatened to rise.

  Covering her mouth, and running out of the hall, Sarra barely made it out the front door before spewing the contents of her stomach over the dry ground. Eyes glazed, she peered in front of her at nothing in particular. The cool rough stones of the keep felt welcoming as she drank in deep gulping breaths of air.

  Chapter Ten

  While Cedric held Gavin down, he studied Sarra. He’d seen her face turn green as she observed the old woman in her work. He wanted to comfort Sarra.

  In truth, the woman was driving him crazy. One minute he wished to wring her neck, while the next minute he wished to lend a shoulder for her to cry upon. The excuse he gave himself was that she was a beautiful young lass in need and his code of honor demanded such actions. But he knew this wasn’t his entire motivation. There was more to it. A lot more.

  At the moment, Cedric feared releasing his grip until Gavin was completely tended. Once the healer indicated the task was finished, he headed out the door in search of the maid.

  He saw Sarra where she rested. With chin down, her head faced the wall. The rise and fall of her chest drew his eyes as her lungs filled with fresh air. Cedric remembered his first time smelling seared flesh, and compassion filled him.

  Pulling his tunic free from his plaid, Cedric ripped off a small piece of the linen fabric. From a nearby well he drew out a bucket of water and filled the dipper.

  With wet rag in hand, he closed the distance between him and Sarra. Tapping her on the shoulder, Cedric grimaced when her head rose. Her sickly color worried him. He handed her the dipper of water, which she eagerly accepted. She filled her mouth with water, swishing the refreshing liquid around several times and spitting it out upon the ground. When she finished, he handed her a small damp piece of cloth and was rewarded with an unguarded grateful smile.

  Sarra dabbed the cloth around her face and mouth. “Thank you.”

  “Ye are welcome.”

  Sarra studied him with a question in her eyes. She didn’t turn away as he stared into her eyes and placed his hand upon her cheek and moved it in a caressing motion. But as soon as the moment began, it was over. Cedric turned, becoming a shield of privacy.

  “Sarra! Sarra, where are you?” Cedric heard the elder knight’s voice calling out.

  “Are ye ready?” Cedric whispered over his shoulder.

  “Move out of my way if you please,” she answered back angrily while using her arm to push him aside.

  Cedric moved, revealing Sarra’s presence. Her cheeks held a rosy flush.

  “Oh, there you are. Charism is finished. She said you could come in.” Sir Henry studied the sight in front of him. The odor wafting about caused him to wrinkled his nose and send Cedric a curious look. Looking at Sarra he asked, “Are you all right?”

  The blush intensified with obvious embarrassment.

  Cedric began to speak. “I...”

  But Sarra put a restraining hand on him.

  “The—the smell in the hall overwhelmed me. But I’m fine now. This visitor to the village brought me some water to drink.”

  The older man looked at him curiously and said, “Thank you kind Scot for taking care of our mis… Sarra.. I should have realized this was no place for a young lass to be. Is there anything I can do to make matters better?”

  Cedric tensed. Would Sarra request Cedric be removed? Perhaps stuck up on a stake for all in the village to see what happens when one takes liberties with the mistress’ maid?

  “I will be all right,” Sarra answered before deflecting the attention back onto the patient. “How does Gavin fare?”

  “Charism has him all dressed up. His fellow knights helped him to an empty chamber. And one of the other men is setting up a pallet for Charism so she can stay with him. Since the gruesomeness is over, I was thinking about taking a walk around the village. Would you care to join me? Perhaps the walk would do you good.”

  “Nay, I believe I shall go clean up. You go ahead.”

  Cedric watched as Sir Henry strolled away with a pleasant whistle on his lips.

  His mind was awhirl with unanswered questions and confused emotions. As he glanced at Sarra’s back, she hurried up the stairs. Sarra was on very friendly terms with the knights in the keep. Perhaps she had been a servant of the household for a long time? Maybe Sir Henry fancied the lass? Though he was old enough to be her father, in their society this rarely mattered.

  Frustrations mounted as Cedric realized there was no way to reason through the things he’d heard today. Heading to Megean’s where his gear was stored, Cedric grabbed his one other tunic and a bar of soap he’d purchased in the village from one of the lye makers. He’d asked Megean about a place to bathe and she had drawn his attention to a fresh water pond right outside the keep walls.

  Shaking off his melancholy, Cedric headed out of the estate. The destination in mind was the pond. Upon reaching the location, he searched the perimeter to make sure he was alone. Once confident of his solitude, he stripped bare and dove into the cool water.

  He washed himself thoroughly, enjoying the liquid sliding down his stomach and the crisp air as it blew across his wet flesh. When Cedric finished, he checked his surroundings for visitors before he pulled himself out of the water. Sitting bare on the bank, he washed his ripped tunic while he allowed the heat of the sun to dry his naked frame. Next, he washed his plaid.

  By then, the sun had finished drying him and he donned his other tunic. Finding a clean tuft of green grass nearby, he stretched out his wet clothing, allowing them to finish drying.

  Cedric found a nice warm spot of ground to rest upon. Lying back, he stretched out, crossing his legs at the ankles and putting his hands behind his head. Looking up at the blue of the sky, he pondered his life.

  There were few things he would have changed. He might have wished his clan members had trusted his judgment. He might have wished they would have accepted him as leader of the clan despite his lineage. But if all those things would have happened, he would never have come to Greenbriar. Never have met Sarra.

  As if thinking about her could conjure her form, Cedric closed his eyes. In his mind Sarra was wearing an emerald gown which clung to her curvy form. She was in the great hall surrounded by people dancing, swirling around in circles. Although she was being shuffled from partner to partner, her eyes constantly sought him out, as if she danced for him and no other.

  When Sarra reached his side, she took him by the hand and drew him away with her to the privacy of the garden. There they danced cheek to cheek. After their merriment was over, they retired to their quarters, alone. Before they could make it to their private chambers, however, the pitter patter of little feet would be heard.

  A little brown-haired, green-eyed boy and a little black-haired, blue-eyed girl with riotous curls ran to grab at their mother’s skirts. In his imagining, Cedric picked them up and swung them around in the air, then covered their faces with kisses before sending them off to bed with a playful swat to the bottom.

  After a night spent in the arms of his lovely wife, he headed out to the lists where he would teach his men the skills of being a Highland warrior. He would accept all they had learned as Englishmen and they would accept all he had to offer as a Scotsmen. They would then combine their knowledge, making them even greater warriors. No one in his keep would be at an advantage or at a disadvantage because of their b
lood line.

  Cedric sighed as he thought about his dreams of a life with a family. Would they ever come true? Maybe in time. But right now Cedric had too many other things to worry about. Like the fact he was falling for the wrong woman. To choose Sarra would mean having only part of his dream.

  Sighing heavily, Cedric shrugged off the misery which worked to consume him, then stood and checked his plaid to see if it was dry. When his fingers touched the fabric and only a dampness remained, he pulled it up and wrapped it around him, pleated it at the waist, slung it up over his shoulder, and pinned it in place. Next, he picked up the ripped tunic and placed it over his arm.

  The village gossip hounds were saying the mistress’ birthday was in two days time. That was his chance, his opportunity to woo his bride to be. Aye, he’d come for the land. But it couldn’t hurt to make his future wife enamored with him as well.

  Chapter Eleven

  The day dawned bright and clear with rays of sunlight streaming through the window. Sarra stretched in bed. The sounds of a fair amount of activity from down below reached her. Having overslept, she hurriedly dressed and rushed downstairs.

  Upon her entrance into the main hall, a hush settled over the room. Charism spotted her immediately and headed her way. Grabbing Sarra’s arm, she ushered her out of the hall.

  “Charism! I told you not to make a fuss.”

  “Oh, we didna make a fuss.”

  “You didn’t make a fuss? The whole hall is decorated. How were you planning on hiding the festivities from me?” asked Sarra, attempting to peer back inside the room.

  “I had no intentions of hiding them,” replied Charism, a smile in her voice.

  “But…but…were you not afraid I would try to stop you?”

  “Nay,” said Charism.

  “Nay? Is all you can say?”

  “Nay, ye would never stop the celebration for yer birthday because ye realize all the hard work and planning which has gone on for ye. Also ye know ye people need a break from their chores and this is a great reason.” Hands folded across her chest, lips tilted upwards, she added, “Now we have established yer role of waiting and enjoying yer special day, I must get back to decorating and ye must go find something to do elsewhere, until time for ye appearance.”

  Sarra stood dumbfounded by her dismissal. Charism was correct. Sarra couldn’t, in good conscience, stop the villagers from taking a break and having a day of celebration. But why did Charism have to choose her birthday for the event? This was the whole point, of course. Charism was determined Sarra’s twenty-first birthday be a special one. She herself could have spent the whole day doing normal activities and have been just as content. As it was, there stood to be lots of good food, plenty of company, and lots of dancing.

  Sarra walked toward the stables, thinking about the gowns available in her wardrobe. She could wear the emerald silk but it was probably too fancy for an event such as her birthday. It would be more appropriate for a wedding.

  She stopped in her tracks. What? Why had such a thought entered her mind? There would be no wedding for as long as she could help it.

  It was the Scotsman. Him and the brief kiss he’d laid across her lips. She should have slapped him where he stood. Why had she allowed him to take such liberties?

  Sarra had been weak. Plain and simple. But it wouldn’t happen again. No, Sarra would be on her guard next time. This Cedric MacNeil character, whoever he was, with whatever he wanted here at Greenbriar, might as well give up. There was no way he would receive what he sought.

  She began walking again.

  ****

  Cedric was in the lists. Off by himself, he held the sword in position. With a step forward, he thrust at an imaginary opponent. As he lifted his sword to practice a downward swing, he lost his footing.

  It was all her fault. He couldn’t get his mind off the kiss he’d shared with Sarra just three days before. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Sarra had looked with her eyes shut, her lips parted with a sigh of contentment.

  Then he saw her. The object of his thoughts careened by, riding a horse toward the keep’s gates as if the hounds of death were after her.

  For a moment, he didn’t move. His eyes followed the cloud of dust kicked up by Sarra’s horse. His pulse quickened as explanations for the lass’s flight entered his mind. What in the world would cause Sarra to leave the keep in such a hurry? Could the lass be in some kind of danger?

  Without another moment’s hesitation, Cedric went to the stables and asked to borrow a horse. One was brought to him post haste and he set off after her.

  With each clop of the hooves his body shifted on the worn saddle. The stirrups were adjusted for a smaller man and his long legs were bent at an uncomfortable angle. The beast was in no hurry, taking one small step at a time.

  Using the reins, Cedric whipped the horse to no avail. Next he kicked the animal’s rump but still it moseyed along. Sighing in frustration, Cedric looked at the woods on the side of the path, and noticed something.

  Hidden deep in the woods, as if trying to remain unseen was two of Greenbriar’s knights. Again it appeared the young lass was being followed. What kind of maid would receive such treatment?

  One who held importance or one who was being pursued?

  While Cedric’s mind asked these questions, Sarra slowed her horse down to a canter. Cedric followed suit.

  With each deliberate movement of the horse, Cedric wondered why he was following the maid. If the knights rode alongside to protect the lass, then she had no need of his sword. But if they rode beside her with the intent to do harm, what would he do? Would he draw his weapon and defend the lass at the expense of perhaps losing the one thing he’d come for?

  As he rode along, he observed the land. Was it just a week before he had stared at this piece of ground and realized it had been given to him?

  At this moment he could ride to the main hall, present his letter from the King, and commandeer all he saw in the MacNeil name. But what would it prove? It would make him like the members of his own family. He would be taking something a family had worked hard to build. Something which didn’t rightly belong to him.

  Grunting as the horse trotted along the uneven ground, Cedric realized he didn’t want to take the land. He wanted it to be given to him freely. It wasn’t enough the King had ordained such an action or that the ground had been earned by him. He’d fought on the King’s behalf. This was his reward.

  Oh, the King’s personal attendants thought it comical he was walking into this situation. But he saw it differently. All he had to do was persuade the mistress she would be better off with the land in his possession than in hers.

  It was best just to stick to his plan. In no time the mistress would be begging to marry him. And when it happened, he would marry the lass. They would have children. And they could both go about their separate ways. Possession of the land would occupy his time. And to occupy the time of the mistress, she would have children. What more did a woman want?

  But what of Sarra? With her position as a maid in the keep, would Cedric be forced to look at her, long for her, ache to hold her, all while married to another?

  Following close behind Sarra, Cedric realized he had no idea where she was going. Did she even know?

  Sarra stopped her horse beside a small pond. It wasn’t the same one Cedric had bathed in the day before. It was further from the keep and more secluded.

  As of yet, his presence seemed unnoticed. Disgruntled, he realized this could be because his horse had continued to move so slow that its hooves had barely made a sound.

  Sarra dismounted and walked around the edge of the small pond. On one side sat a row boat. Cedric watched from the reeds as Sarra plucked a flower from the ground and began removing the petals one at a time. The flower landed on the ground just as she reached the boat and climbed inside. Picking up the oars, she pushed off the side of the bank and stroked out into the center of the pond.

  When Sarra reached the middl
e, she stopped and just sat there. From his location, it wasn’t clear what she was doing. Craning his neck around a large boulder, Cedric saw her stand.

  The boat began to wobble. Sarra’s arms flailed wildly. Then the tiny boat flipped and she was thrown in the air. When she hit the water, her heavy skirts sank, taking her down as well.

  Legs thrashing, she swam. Breath held, Cedric watched as she kicked her legs and sliced her arms through the water with all her might, but it didn’t seem to be getting her any closer to the water’s edge. Inwardly he was yelling, “Come on, come on.” But she wasn’t moving.

  Sarra looked like a drowning kitten. If she didn’t reach the shore soon, she might not reach it at all. With her body stretched out, she tried once more. This time she buried her head with her attempt to cut through the water more efficiently. But every time her head lifted, it was sucked right back down again.

  If Cedric didn’t do something, and quick, Sarra was going to drown. He found a thin hollow reed, placed it in his mouth, and slipped soundlessly into the water. Before he got close to Sarra, he took a deep breath and removed the reed from his mouth, while slipping underneath her.

  Fortunately for Cedric, she was lying on her stomach and was trying to head toward the shore. He slipped his hands around her tiny waist and kicked forward. Had she not been helping, they would never have made it.

  When Sarra reached the shore, she stood and staggered out. Cedric hid behind her skirts, replacing the reed pipe in his mouth. He was all set to turn and swim back to the opposite side of the pond, but when he peeked above the water and saw her sitting there shivering and alone, he couldn’t leave.

  He walked up out of the water and collapsed beside her.

  ****

  Sarra’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Cedric. Gasping with shock, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Savin’ yer ungrateful hide.”

  “I didn’t need your help,” she answered indignantly.

  “That’s not what it looked like to me.”