by E. B. Brown
He wanted to argue, wanted to hold her, but there was no time for such things and she would not permit his attention in any case. He knew there was something broken inside her and he knew he was responsible for it. Someday he hoped they could mend it – someday when he did not have a duty he must place above all others.
Letting his hands fall away from her, he stepped back and opened the door. He could feel her gaze bore into his spine as much as he had felt her flesh beneath his fingers only moments before.
“I know ye think ye must go. But ye have reason to stay here, as well,” she said.
He bowed his head, closing his eyes for a moment before he stepped through the door.
“I will return to ye,” he said quietly.
He did not wait for her response before he left.
*****
It was not long before Reinn and Agnarr departed with a group of hired men and a handful of English soldiers. Benjamin followed shortly after, leaving the safety of the common trails and instead making his own path through Indian lands. Agnarr was a man who would not sacrifice his own comfort for a day of dalliance harassing the natives, and Benjamin was counting on them sticking to the much less troublesome main routes.
Smoke escaped from the top of the Northern Hall as he rode into the village, but other than that telltale sign from the smoke hole, there seemed to be very little activity. He could hear the murmur of voices and the squeal of a child, typical sounds of a busy village.
Everything appeared normal – except that he saw or heard no men.
His horse stomped at a fly as he looped the rein over the corral fence. There was little time to waste before the English arrived, and if Benjamin were found aiding the villagers, he could be hanged. He needed to act without haste.
“Why are ye here?”
Benjamin turned to find Kyra staring up at him, hands perched on her hips as if she meant to scold him. If the situation was not so dire he might have laughed, but being she was one of those he meant to protect he stifled his amusement.
“Well, to see ye, of course,” he replied, bending down so that he might look her in the eye. She seemed to appreciate the gesture, flashing a wide smile at him.
“Have ye seen Morgan, sir?” she asked, her cheeks flushing with color. “I mean, he’s not visited of late.”
“Nay, I havna seen him. Tell me, where is yer father?” Benjamin replied. She pushed her hair behind her ear and shrugged, her sunny smile fading into a scowl.
“Hunting. All the men are hunting. They’ll no return ‘til dark.”
It might be good fortune that the men were away, but the cold feeling in his gut surged in spite of it. There was no reason for bloodshed when Agnarr’s men arrived; it should be a simple notification of the Crown’s intent to make use of the land. With no men in the village to argue, the transaction might occur without incident. It was only when the natives resisted that there was trouble.
“Where is yer mother? With the women?” he asked.
“Yes. They’re cooking.” Kyra pointed to the Northern Hall with a shrug. She let out a squeak when he picked her up and tossed her onto his horse. “I canna leave, Momma willna let me!”
“Quiet now, keep yer seat. I’ll fetch yer brother and Ma, and then ye need to ride downstream. Doona kick that beast yet, he’s a flighty sort.”
He was pulling the girth tight when he heard footsteps behind him, and before he could utter a word in defense, he was grabbed by his arm and fingernails bit into his flesh. His reaction was one of self-preservation when he saw the flash of a knife.
With his two large hands he subdued her, closing one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist. She twisted around in his arms, but he easily blocked her blows until she sank her teeth into the flesh of his hand. At that, he turned her to face him, shaking her like a rag with one hand as he plucked the knife from her fingers.
“Just what do you think you’re doing with my daughter?” Maggie demanded. “You won’t be taking her anywhere –”
“Jesus, Maggie! There’s no time for this!” Benjamin hollered.
“Benjamin? What the hell? What are you doing?”
Stunned for a moment, she tried to draw away from him but he held her without fail.
“Where are the boys?” he asked. “Where are the boys, Maggie?”
His frantic voice lowered an octave as he shook her and she stared back at him as if she had lost her sense. For a moment, he thought she had.
“Mal is by the well. What is going on –” she stammered, but he cut her off.
“There’s no time. They’re coming here to the village. Where are all the men? Why are there none here to protect ye women? Tell me!” he snapped. She went rigid as he shook her again, her eyes glazed with confusion.
“They’re with Winn,” she whispered. “The men are all hunting. They’re not here.”
“Jesus. They leave ye unprotected? Alone?” Benjamin cursed.
“They’re not far – and we need the food!” she shot back, obviously incensed with any criticism of Winn. Benjamin stifled the rest of the rant that bubbled to the surface. It was none of his concern how his brother tended his village.
The peril of their situation suddenly burned deep. They were about to be raided by the English, and they needed to come up with a plan.
“The English, ye say?” Gwen interrupted. Benjamin loosened his hold on Maggie, who promptly stepped back. Gwen eyed him up, a scathing glare from head to foot, as if his very presence offended her senses. With a grubby hand clutching her skirt, Malcolm toddled behind her.
“The English are coming to serve ye notice. If ye do as yer bidden they’ll serve ye and leave, but best Maggie and the children stay out of sight. Agnarr travels with them.”
He noted Gwen’s eyes widened, but there was no additional sign of recognition from Maggie, whose face remained pensive. He did not have time nor was he willing to discuss why Agnarr was a danger, so he was relieved to see Gwen understood.
“I thought that wee bastard was dead,” she said.
“Not hardly. He keeps to his own, except when he has cause.” Benjamin looked Gwen in the eye, willing her to understand. “Best we send Winn’s family away for a spell.”
Gwen nodded, her throat visibly tightening. She darted a glance at Maggie, who cocked a brow at the both of them.
“So we’ll take the women and hide. We can go downstream to the Nansemond until Winn and the others return,” Maggie said.
“No, that willna work. If the English come upon this place and find it abandoned, they will burn it to the ground. It would save ‘em the trouble of making a peaceable request,” Benjamin replied.
Gwen cleared her throat.
“Then you must get the children and Maggie away. Take them now, and let us face the English when they arrive.”
“Gwen, no, you can’t stay here! None of you can –”
Gwen reached for Maggie, who quieted when the older woman took her hand. Gwen smiled, a gesture that served to muffle Maggie’s protests for a fraction of a moment.
“Of course I can. It’s my duty as yer kin and yer duty as our Chief’s wife to see yer children safe. Now is the time to lead, my lady. We shall be waiting here fer ye once the English have crawled back to their snake holes.”
When Gwen’s sad eyes met his he swallowed hard. He nodded at the unspoken request in her voice.
“Ye’ll see them safe, will ye not?” Gwen said softly. “Maybe ye are yer father’s son.”
Yes, he thought. He would keep them safe. For that was his duty, and he would not abandon it.
“Mama?” Kyra called out, her voice pitched high in question. Benjamin looked back toward the horse where he had deposited Kyra with strict instructions to stay put. The horse lifted his head straight up, ears pricked and eyes focused on the wood line.
The rustle of movement through the brush and the disjointed shouts of strangers reached them, making the idea of a threat into instant reality. Maggie plucked
Malcolm up off the ground.
“Ride, sweetheart,” she whispered, kissing his head as she placed him behind his sister. With shaking hands, she hugged Kyra as Benjamin spoke softly to his niece. Kyra promised to follow the river path downstream to the Nansemond village, where she would wait. In turn, he promised that her mother would not be far behind.
Kyra ground her heels into the horse’s flanks and the beast took off into the woods. He grimaced as Malcolm jerked backwards, but the boy recovered without issue and remained astride behind his sister. Benjamin took Maggie’s hand.
“Go!” Gwen insisted.
Maggie followed him mutely into the woods, gripping his hand with the strength born of panic. He had known her very well once, and he knew fair well when she was afraid. That unguarded part she struggled to contain flared like a beacon with every emotion on display, as if she dared anyone to tell her she should not act on what she felt.
It was clear she did not want to leave the village. He had no doubt she was bold enough to face the English on her own – and he had witnessed her capable behavior on more than one occasion – but there was much more at stake than that. Apparently, she did not recognize the name of her own father, and for the life of him, Benjamin did not know why. Had Winn not told her that her father lived? Nor Erich? Did they think it best she not know of the man? Whatever the reasons, it was clear Maggie was in the dark. The true danger to her and the children was not the English – it was the Norse Time Walker with a vengeful streak who would stop at nothing to claim her if he knew she existed.
“Come on,” Benjamin growled. He could see the English through the trees as they rode into the village and he knew their time to flee had run out. He pulled Maggie into the woods toward a small alcove surrounded by slate boulders, a place he recalled the children often played. Sitting well above the Northern Hall, those in the niche could see the village below, but were unlikely to be seen in return.
“But the children –”
“They’re far gone by now. Ease yer self. We’ll stay down until they leave,” he whispered.
Benjamin tried to control his breathing as he drew her close and they kneeled down in the dirt.
“They willna hurt anyone. He’s here to give them the King’s decree, then he’ll go,” Benjamin said softly, more to convince himself than to placate Maggie. He knew she could see Agnarr down below for the man stood out amongst the English as a gemstone gleamed in the sun. It was not only the expensive clothes he wore and healthy horse he rode, but the way he carried himself lent no argument as to who was in charge.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“An enemy, if ye must know,” he snapped. She twisted around at his harsh reply and shoved him in the chest, which surprised him but did not budge him an inch. It had been years since he had spent time with her, and truth be told, he was no longer that same man. Despite the danger before them, having her in his arms stirred something down deep in his gut. Memories assaulted him, causing a scowl to form on his face.
“Yes, I must know!” she shot back.
“Ye need know he’s dangerous. He’ll recognize ye as a blooded MacMhaolian, and he’ll stop at nothing to take ye,” Benjamin replied. “And yer weans,” he added.
Maggie stopped arguing. More than a dozen men on horseback poured into the courtyard below amidst a cloud of dust, shouting amongst each other as if they feared no retribution. When he saw the band of English soldiers flank the group he realized why. Every man among them held a musket, even the plain dressed Englishmen who were in Agnarr’s employ. Benjamin wondered why they seemed armed for trouble rather than for a simple notification, yet he knew in his bones the answer.
Agnarr did the King’s bidding – when it suited him. Sturlsson always had another motive in his dealings, however, and being vigilant in the search for other Time Walkers was his ever-present task. Holding fast to the notion that not all the Norse colonists had been exterminated by the Indians, Agnarr lived for the moment he might stumble upon one.
And Benjamin, as such, lived to prevent him from doing so.
Agnarr dismounted slower than the others. Shorter than Benjamin but still marked with considerable brawn, the man straightened up in a refined manner and surveyed the others. His bright blond hair was coiffed fashionably back with a ribbon, his velvet and brocade attire more reflective of a gentleman than a rogue.
“What is his name?” Maggie whispered.
Benjamin sighed. He saw no reason to keep it from her.
“Agnarr. My employer,” he answered. Let her chew on that morsel if it would quiet her. With a touch of inappropriate amusement, he noted that Maggie still had no control of her emotion. Always defiant, forever willing to give a challenge instead of acquiescence, he supposed that was one of the things that drew him to her. He adjusted his hand at her waist, aware suddenly that he was gripping her entirely too close as they watched the scene below.
“So you’ve gone back to the English, and this is what you do? Why not join them now? How many villages have you raided? You traitorous bastard –”
“Damn ye, woman, quiet yer tongue. I’ve done no such thing. Did ye ever know me at all?” he snapped.
He could see her pulse throbbing madly along her tight jaw as she glared up at him.
“I thought I did,” she said whispered.
His voice was hoarse when he answered.
“You did know me,” he said. “You knew me like no other ever had.”
Her eyes glistened with the swell of tears and he looked away before she could shed them. His belly was a heavy knot, the warmth of her in his arms sending him back in time to that place where she belonged to him. He shook off the memory as quickly as it surfaced.
The past was over. Now was time to pay for his sins.
Two of the soldiers dragged Gwen from the Northern Hall. Maggie jumped up and Benjamin immediately jerked her back down.
“Doona move!” he ordered.
“They’re hurting Gwen!” Maggie cried. He held her tight, but she refused to turn away from the scene below.
“They willna kill her,” Benjamin whispered.
The tone of his utterance did not console her. She tried to twist away from him once more.
“Let me go, we can talk to them–” she pleaded. Gwen wasted no time displaying her opinion of the intruders, spitting in Agnarr’s face when he approached her.
Benjamin was surprised to see Agnarr turn away from the woman, but his stomach clenched when Agnarr plucked at his glove. Finger by finger he removed it, folding the glove neatly in half before he nodded to his companions. One of Agnarr’s men grabbed Gwen and pulled her out into the middle of the courtyard.
They tied Gwen to a tall post by the well in the yard. Maggie gripped his forearm.
“We have to do something!” she said.
“There is nothing to be done!” he replied, his voice strangled with fear. Agnarr had no cause to harm the villagers. His only duty was to inform them they should move further west, away from the English as they cleared more land for tobacco farming. Benjamin had visited many villages with Agnarr where they had done the same, ending the visit peacefully with no harm to any person. Yet those villages had been filled with Indians, and none of those people held interest to Agnarr. Not like the tiny settlement Winn’s family lived in, a mix of whites, Indians, and random stragglers that kept to themselves.
Benjamin did not expect Maggie to relent, but he was still startled when she renewed her struggle. She struck out at Benjamin and connected with his cheek, her nails scraping his skin. He grabbed her wrists then and crushed her to his chest, holding her head down as Gwen began to scream.
“I promised to keep ye safe. I promised her – and my father. If ye go down there now, I will go after ye, and it will be for naught because they will kill me where I stand.” He felt her jump at the crack of the lash. “I willna let them harm ye. Never,” he whispered fiercely into her hair.
He had made that vow, and he planned to keep it.
Maggie let out a muffled shriek against his chest when Gwen screamed again.
They could hear each snap of the strap and the resultant cry from Gwen until finally the lashing ended. They were too far away to hear what the English were saying, so he could not determine what the man said to Gwen as he bent his head to hers. He only knew that there were too many men to count, all armed with gun power, and he was helpless to do anything except stay hidden until it was over.
He felt like a coward, but he knew he had no choice.
“Is that Ellie? What is she doing?” he whispered. When Maggie looked up at him, her face had taken on a pale tint. She followed his gaze back down to the courtyard, where Elli approached the intruders.
“She has Daniel with her,” Maggie whispered.
“Whose wean is that?” he asked.
“Mine. I mean, Rebecca’s. She–she died giving birth. Makedewa left. I’m watching over him until his father returns.”
He bowed head and closed his eyes. Makedewa had been his friend, his companion. To know his friend had lost a wife and now wandered alone was a sickening thought. Benjamin knew what isolation was like, to feel as if your home was no longer a place you could stay. It was a loneliness they had held common, one they had worked to vanquish as they traveled together. He wondered where Makedewa was, and how he fared.
He wished to convey his sadness, but he had no right to behave as if he were still part of the community. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he simply said, “I am sorry.” Maggie gave a slight nod at his words, but her eyes were focused on what was unfolding in the courtyard.
In Ellie’s arms was baby Daniel, bundled securely as she spoke with the English. Elli stood straight as she confronted the intruders, but they were too far away for him to hear what was said. Benjamin’s breathing stilled and he loosened his grip around her.
“What’s happening?” Maggie asked.
“I doona know. I think they’re leaving,” Benjamin replied.
He was right. After speaking with Ellie, the English mounted their horses. Agnarr spoke once more at Gwen and Ellie, and then he turned and slowly surveyed the village.
