Celtic Blizzard

by Ria Cantrell

  “Why is it so important? I’m wedding her. That should be enough.”

  “But it is nay enough and ye’ know it. Speak the Binding, lad. Ye’ must.”

  With his head still hung, Jamie admitted, “If I speak the Binding, I am afraid I will lose my soul.”

  “If ye’ do not, it will nay matter.”

  Morag turned and walked from the sheepfold. Jamie stared after her, again amazed at the lithe movement of the ancient woman who had always been in his life. She was a meddlesome harpy, but he loved and respected her. She was right and as soon as he could clean himself up, he would go to Sinead and Bind himself to her according to the Old Rite. May God protect him, because he was about to expose his heart to the point of losing everything he had carefully walled and protected. Only, Morag was right. She was always right, damn her! It would matter not one way or the other. Without Sinead, his soul was as good as dead anyway.

  Chapter 35

  Sinead stood nervously in Jamie’s chamber. “What if he does not wish to do this, Morag?”

  “He will. I know it.”

  “But we are getting married in a couple of days anyway.”

  “This is different. It is more than a contract spoken before kith and kin. It is part of who ye’ are because yer’ travel here marks ye’ as a Daughter of the Ancients. This is our way, lass. This is Jamie’s way, too, despite his misgivings. It is steeped deep in his bones and will be part of yer’ children, as well.”

  “Children…I hadn’t given that a hell of a lot of thought.”

  Morag raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Children always are begotten when there is the fire of passion between ye’.”

  Sinead blushed. That was putting it mildly. Jamie and she had made love so many times in the last few weeks, it was a wonder she could walk! At times, it felt like they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. It was wonderful!

  Swallowing hard, Sinead said, “What do I have to do?”

  “Just speak the words that Jamie does and I will do the rest. After it is done, it canna’ be undone. Not by time or space or life or death. Do ye’ understand?”

  Sinead nodded. “Yes.”

  “And ye’ are certain ye’ want this, as well for it canna’ be forced upon ye’.”

  “I want it. More than anything I have ever wanted in my life.”

  Morag’s silvery eyes sparkled with happiness. “I thought as much. Here let me help ye’ ready yerself for him.”

  Morag rubbed a deliciously spicy smelling oil into her skin, and while she did, she murmured undistinguishable words of prayers. Sinead was dressed in a shift, that left little to the imagination, but somehow she was not embarrassed now. When Morag had finished, she took Sinead’s hands and turned them up. She spread drops of the scented oil into her palms and she then closed Sinead’s hands together. She said, “Daughter, now rub the oil into your own hands and breathe in its fragrance.”

  Sinead did and took in the wonderful scent as she had been instructed to do. Morag’s hands, still oiled, gently smoothed down Sinead’s hair and she then took a brush and pulled it through Sinead’s glossy tresses. Then she went to the basket she had brought to Sinead and she took out one perfect bloom. Sinead watched the old lady cradle the flower and she could have sworn that there were tears in her eyes. Morag put the petals up to her own nose and smelled the delicious aroma of the flower. She came to Sinead and tucked it behind her ear saying, “When I spoke the Binding, my Ian gave me a primrose, too. I wanted ye’ to have one for yer’ Binding as well.”

  “But where in the world did you find such a flower at this time of year? Everything is frozen solid.”

  Morag nodded. “Aye, lass. But I begged the Guardians a boon so I could find a place where they grew and They granted me passage. I took only the one for ye’ this day. T’would seem They favor ye’ greatly. I think They would grant ye’ anything, so long as it is yer’ heart’s wish.”

  Those words stirred something within Sinead but all she could say was, “Thank you.”

  “There, ye’ are ready. Once the words are said and I finish the circle, I will leave ye’ to my Jamie and ye’ will close the Binding in yer’ way.” Morag actually said the last with a wink and Sinead could not contain her giggle at just what that way would be.

  As if that thought had summoned him, Jamie stood at the threshold of his chambers staring at the two women who were in front of the blazing fire in the hearth. He had dressed in his leather trews, and a clean shirt whitened by the fuller. His plaid hung about his shoulder and was fastened with a small clan brooch. To Sinead, he looked like the embodiment of one of the men on the covers of a romance novel and she felt her heart quicken as she gazed on his gorgeous form. This man was no fantasy, modeled for effect. He was the real thing and he was hers!

  The chill of Jamie’s bath had been vanquished with the warmth of the room and the vision of his woman standing before him, waiting for him. She had been prepared, it seemed, by Morag and she did not seem to want to reject his attempt to the Binding that would seal their souls for all eternity.

  Jamie would never admit that he actually may have feared Sinead may not agree to the Binding, once he himself he had declared himself to it. Now, seeing her waiting for him and knowing what he intended, made Jamie’s heart pound in gratitude. She was not going to reject the Ancient Ways at all. In fact, she looked like a Celtic angelic vision dressed in that sheer gown and the lovely flower resting in her thick dark lustrous hair. Even though the bath waters had been frigid, Jamie was glad he had taken the time to prepare himself to meet his bride, for this was going to be his true wedding night. His heart welled as she smiled at him. Her love for him was evident in the expression on her face. If he had any doubts, they had dissolved upon his entry to his chambers. When he had arrived, he heard Sinead laugh and the sound was like the tinkling of bells to his ear. How he loved this woman! As impossible as it seemed, there was no denying it.

  When Sinead turned to Jamie and held out her hand, he nearly tripped over himself to close the distance between them. He took her in his arms and he kissed her. He whispered, “I dunna’ know how ye’ came to be here, love, but I am ever thankful that ye are.”

  “I am, too, Jamie.”

  Morag cleared her throat in an obvious attempt to remind them they were not alone. Still holding her, they both faced Morag and she said happily, “Speak the Binding, lad. T’is time.”

  Jamie took Sinead’s hand and laid it over his heart. He spoke the words first in Gaelic, for they seemed to have greater power in the tongue of his birth. Then he repeated them as so many had before him and said, “To ye’ I put my heart so that forever I will be incomplete without ye’. Yer’ heart is now mine. Yer’ soul is the half of mine that if separated, I will die without. Yer’ flesh is of my flesh and we are of one body. To undo the Rite means to tear out half of my heart, to lose half of my soul and cleave my body in twain.”

  Morag swallowed hard. As much as she was gladdened to hear Jamie say them to Sinead, those words spoken rent a hole in her heart as she thought back to when they had been said to her so long ago by her own precious Ian. Sinead glanced at Morag and noticed there were definitely tears in her eyes now. These words were important to the old woman, apparently and as she heard them said as a sacred vow from Jamie, Sinead knew that powerful magic was being worked around them.

  Sinead repeated the Ancient Binding vows back, adding, “Jamie, I don’t understand how I came to love you so deeply in so short a time, but I believe that this is my destiny. I shall never leave you on my own, of that you can be certain. To undo this Sacred Rite means to tear out half of my heart, to lose half of my soul and cleave my body in twain.”

  “We must seal it now, with the promise of a kiss,” Jamie murmured, feeling mostly overwhelmed, but completely in love. His lips brushed Sinead’s in an almost chaste kiss and then Jamie took her hand in his. “I pledge myself to ye’, Sinead of the Clan MacDougal, Daughter of time yet to come.”


  He slipped a ring that winked with a garnet stone on her middle finger. She remembered that this was the customary finger used for wedding rings in medieval times. She had no ring to give him, but Morag reached into a pouch that hung about her waist that she normally used to carry her medicinal herbs and salves. She took Sinead’s other hand and pressed a piece of jewelry into her palm and closed her fingers around it. She leaned in and whispered, “I want ye’ to have it. T’was my husband’s which I had given him on the night we spoke our troth.”

  Sinead broke her gaze from Jamie’s and she shook her head saying, “No. I can’t accept this.”

  “Take it, lass. Put it on Jamie’s finger. It is yer’s now.”

  “But, why?”

  “Because ye and I are kindred, lass. And now ye’ shall be like a daughter for Jamie has ever been like my own son. Go ahead. Take it.”

  Sinead opened her hand and saw a simple golden band, twisted into what looked like a Celtic knot. It resembled the band that was tattooed on Jamie’s upper arm around his bicep. It was the knotwork that marked the men of the clan MacCollum. Sinead turned it over in her hand and she looked back at Morag. The old woman nodded, with a tearful smile and Sinead took Jamie’s hand and placed the ring on the middle finger of his left hand as well. She said, “I pledge myself to you, Jamie MacCollum, son of what lies in my past to only give me a life yet to be lived.”

  Jamie pulled her close to him and felt her heart beating wildly beneath her breast. Morag swiped at her eyes, and reaching into her pouch again, she sprinkled sweet smelling herbs around Jamie and Sinead, forming a nearly perfect circle about them. She spoke in her Ancient tongue and though Sinead could not understand the words, she felt them resonate in her heart. She stood very still, afraid that the slightest movement would break the spell and she was grateful for the wall of strength that was Jamie, as he held her against him. Finally, Morag proclaimed, “Oh Ancient Guardians, protect this couple as they honor Ye’ in this most Sacred of Bindings. May the cords that drew them to one another never be broken. I thank Ye’ for hearing the supplications of this simple woman, who has ever served Ye’. Bless this union now and through all times, I humbly pray.”

  Sinead listened and realized how similar those words were to the Christian rites and she understood how they really were all one, despite the differences of time and space and of ways to honor ones beliefs. She felt a strange shift in the air around her and she was reminded of that odd sense of the world falling when she had ridden the subway to work the day she came through time to be with Jamie. She held onto him tighter, almost afraid she was going to be whisked away, but instead, a sense of shimmering warmth enveloped them and Sinead was left standing with the man she had pledged herself to. The Ancient Binding seemed so much more powerful than the many weddings she had been to; in fact than the wedding she would be a bride herself in three more days. She looked into Jamie’s eyes and she said, “We are wed now aren’t we?”

  He smiled and said, “Aye.”

  “But the wedding…we will need to tell them….”

  “Lass, they will know. At least, I am certain my father, brothers and sister will. My sister is a devout Christian and does not follow the path of the Ancients, but it is something that is part of us all.”

  “Well, then the wedding in a few days doesn’t need to happen.”

  He kissed her again and said, “Of course it does. For you as well as for me. I am the laird’s son. It is just part of this wedding, but make no mistake, lass. Ye’ are now my wife.”

  Morag fairly clapped her hands with glee and she said, “Aye, ye’ are husband and wife, according to Ancient Rites. Be happy, my children. I will leave ye’ now. I will spend the night praying fer’ ye’ both to finish the rites before dawn. I have ordered a repast be sent. Seal the binding with yer’ love and eat a meal together.”

  Sinead laughed nervously and said, “I’m afraid to step out of the circle.”

  “Fear not, lass. Ye’ will not break the Binding by stepping out of it.”

  Sinead turned from Jamie and hugged Morag. She kissed her papery cheek and said, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Ye’ have already honored me by loving my bonny Jamie.”

  With a hug that seemed unnaturally strong from so frail a little old lady, Sinead was astounded at the immeasurable strength of this woman. She wanted to learn all about her in the days to come. Once again, Sinead was struck with the thought that it would become her project to write all about her because just in the short time of knowing her, Sinead knew that Morag’s story would be a fascinating one. Other people should know about her, too.

  Once the hugs were done, Morag took herself out of the chambers and left the bride and groom alone to cement the binding in their own way.

  With a disarming smile, Jamie said, “Wife, will ye’ join me in bed or do ye’ wish to wait for that tray of food?”

  Raising her sexy eyes to him, she said, “I am quite hungry, Jamie, but I don’t think for anything that will be left on a tray.”

  “Oh?” He raised one eyebrow and he said, “Then come, let me help satisfy that hunger.”

  “Oh, Jamie, I think it will never be satisfied.”

  Jamie threw his head back and he laughed loudly. “I think I can live with that, wife. Come to bed. At least I can try to satisfy ye’ for a short time.”

  With deft fingers, Sinead unfastened his plaid that had been pinned over one shoulder. It dropped to his side and Sinead ran her hands up over Jamie’s ribs, pulling the shirt from the belt that hung low on his hips. She knelt down before him to unfasten that belt and she looked up at Jamie. He swallowed deeply, his larynx bobbing as he anticipated the coolness of her hands on his bare flesh. He pulled his shirt off and shrugged out of it. He felt her tugging at his trews and he obliged her by kicking off his boots so he could also remove his trews. Jamie drew her up from the floor and he said, “I’ll nay have ye’ kneel before me fer ye’ are my wife; my equal; my partner.”

  Jamie helped her to stand and then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her hastily to bed. He would love her and honor her with his body and his heart and if the Ancients blessed their union, it would be sealed with a babe that would blossom within his beautiful wife. Jamie imagined Sinead bearing him a son or daughter and he relished being with her as their bairn grew inside her. Suddenly, Jamie felt the promise of a future he had not dared to dream before Sinead MacDougal had entered his life.

  Chapter 36

  When Sinead woke the next morning, she sidled closer to the man who had become the husband of her heart the night before. When she had dreamed of a wedding, it had not resembled what had taken place on the previous evening, but then again, nothing about how she had come to love Jamie made much sense so it was the perfect way to unite with the man of her dreams. Jamie pulled her closer to him and he kissed her, saying, “Good morning, Wife.”

  Hearing him say that made Sinead laugh softly. “Good morning, Husband. I trust you slept well.”

  “Slept? Lady ye’ were nay lyin’ about nay bein’ satisfied. I am fairly worn to exhaustion.”

  Sinead turned onto him and leaning on her arms by resting them upon his chest, she looked into his eyes that were filled with love for her. “Aww, I don’t believe that my hardened warrior could be so easily vanquished.”

  “Aye, love, I concede. Ye’ have indeed bested me.”

  “Well, I think you shall recover.”

  Jamie feigned a moan and said, “Please, no more, lass…My legs already feel boneless. Have pity on me.”

  Sinead laughed, loving him in his playful weakness, for there was nothing lacking in the man who was her husband. She nestled into his arms and felt comfortable with him. She said, “You will have to muster your strength, love.”

  “No, lass, ye’ shall kill me.”

  “Not for that, Jamie. The lambs will be bleating soon if you do not tend to them.”

  “Well, they shall survive a few moments longer, I shoul
d think.”

  Sinead just pressed closer to his warmth and sighed. She was happy. Their night of love and passion was offset by the magic of their private ceremony and it was the most powerful thing Sinead had ever experienced. She stroked Jamie as they lay quietly together for a few moments. But as Sinead enjoyed the quiet moments with him, questions started forming in her mind. Suddenly, she wanted to learn all she could about Jamie and his family.

  She asked him about his life growing up as a son of a powerful laird of a clan. She asked about his brothers and in particular, she was very curious about his sister, Bronwyn. They had been able to spend some time together, but Sinead had still been a stranger and she suspected that she was being kept at arm’s length, which she understood. After the Binding, though, Sinead felt it was important to know about her new family. She would have time to get to know them all better, but she liked listening to Jamie talk about them for it gave her a better understanding about what his family ties meant to him; what it would mean to her to be their new sister, as well.

  “So, how is it that Bronwyn is a devout Christian when you all follow the Old Ways?”

  Jamie laughed and said, “Love, we are all Christians but we are rooted in the Old Ways, too. Bronwyn is a progressive young woman and I suppose, because we have let her grow differently from other women, she finds the Ancient Rites old fashioned and backward. Och, our dear little Bronnie is nay a little girl any longer and it is only a matter of time when she will be betrothed to someone, I suppose. She is our Highland Rose.”

  “I can see how much you all love her.”

  “Lass, she was the last child our mother brought to my da’. As ye’ can see, there are nay many lassies in our immediate little clan. We do love her. We have allowed her to bloom as she wished. But something happened to her once that I suspect fostered her denial of the Old Ways to this day. None but Nan Morag knew what truly happened for Bronnie will nay speak of it and she will deny any ties to the Ancients vehemently. When our Bronwyn first tasted the pangs of womanhood, Nan Morag took her up to a place we know as Morag’s Ridge and she lead her through the rites of passage from childhood to womanhood.”