Ellen scowled and turned her face away. She had to bite her lip so she didn’t say anything she might later regret considering how fraught her emotions were. Anger and resentment coiled inside her like a hissing serpent and all she wanted to do was lash out at the world. She would have loved to have grabbed a sword, mounted a horse, and galloped in pursuit of the man who killed her father, and then gone on to find the people who had looted his body and made them pay for the injustice. She would have loved to cut through the bandits and Highlanders of the world, slashing her way across the country, spilling evil blood and sending back coin to her mother.
But that was the life for a man, not a woman. Her place was by a man’s side, tending to the home while he went out and fought against the evils of the world. It was a piteous fate, and now she was beginning to see that it was an unavoidable one. Without the rock of her father she was adrift and alone, afraid that anything might happen. Her mother was right; they needed someone to take care of the estate.
There was one other thing that her father had told her, something she had found difficult to take to heart.
“Sometimes in life you have to do things you do not want to do for the sake of the people you love. Love is about sacrifice,” he said. His phantom words reached her as though he was calling to her from beyond the veil of mortality. A silent tear trickled down her cheek as she began to accept the fact that she would never get to have the life she truly wanted, because she had been born into the wrong body, and there was nothing she could do about that. And now she would have to sacrifice everything she wanted in life for her future and that of her mother.
The only remaining matter to be decided was who she would get married to.
“You’ll have to change the way you live. You can’t be spending all your time outside. What kind of household will you have?” Myra said. She had finally stopped crying and her morbid mood was lifted, but only because she had taken it upon herself to lecture Ellen on everything that needed to change. Ellen listened with a glum look on her face, resigned to her fate.
“Yes Mother,” was her dull, monotonous reply that encapsulated her lack of enthusiasm for the prospect of giving herself to a man. Myra was dictating to her all the things she had to change about herself; such as how Ellen couldn’t wander about the wild world as freely as she was used to doing because she would have more pertinent responsibilities to take care of. She would also have to hold herself elegantly at all times and speak clearly, but always in deference to her husband. It was difficult to hear all this because it didn’t seem as though Myra took heed of the lessons that she was preaching, but Ellen was too tired to argue.
She had barely slept since she had learned the news of her father. Whenever she lay her head against the pillow and tried to sink into the soft warmth of the bed, closing her eyes to all the ills of the world, she ended up thinking of nothing but her father. She imagined him on the battlefield and couldn’t stop wondering about how he might have died, the pain of being stabbed with a sword, or the feeling of loneliness as his body fell to the ground. She wondered what he thought about, and which warrior had the prowess to fell her father. Before he died she had been aware of the dangers in the world, but they had always seemed far away and distant because her father had been there to protect her. Now that he was gone she felt vulnerable, and the estate seemed that way as well. The Highlanders had been getting braver in their attacks. Ellen was afraid of what might happen if they attacked. When word of Robin’s death spread they might see an opportunity to strike, and that was another reason why Ellen needed to get married, for protection.
Ellen was confident of her ability with a sword, but she was untested in battle and didn’t think she could do well against a battalion of Highlanders who were storming the gates. She curled her arms around herself in a protective manner as she thought about what they might do to her. She had heard the stories of how brutal and ravenous they could be, and she shuddered at the thought of it.
The world was a lot darker without her father in it. She hadn’t realized until then how much she depended on him for a feeling of safety and wellbeing. The nights were long and sleepless, and by the morning her pillow was soaked in tears and she wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to continue without him in her life. Myra was the same. The two women were desolate and inconsolable, and although Ellen had plenty of fine and happy memories to nourish herself on, she was filled with longing for the memories that they would never get the chance to make. The man who killed Robin had robbed him of the rest of his life, and that would never be forgiven.
As the silver moon hung like a lantern above, as it cast its ethereal glow across the land and made the sea shimmer in a silvery light, Ellen’s chest burned like a furnace and her heart turned to coal. She made a silent vow, a secret hidden in the dark depths of the night, to find the man who killed her father and avenge him. She didn’t care that it was something a traditional woman wouldn’t do, or that her mother and eventual husband wouldn’t approve of. It was the duty of a child to avenge a parent’s death, and she was not going to shirk that duty.
Ellen didn’t know when she was going to pursue this quest or how she was going to go about it, but she was going to find that Highlander somehow before she died. She was going to look him in the eyes and tell him about the man he killed and the sorrow he had sown, and only then would she be able to be at peace with her father’s death.
The numbness and deep aching pain had quickly become a normal part of Ellen’s existence in the days after the message had been delivered. It was strange to Ellen how life needed to continue. People still needed to eat, the animals still needed to be cleaned and tended to, and the world wasn’t going to stop because one man had died, even though it felt as though it should. Ellen spent as much time with Myra as possible, until Myra became too difficult to be with and Ellen had to go and spend time by herself. But a few days afterwards, as the afternoon sun was making its way across the sky ready to relinquish the throne to the evening moon, a rider approached the estate.
He was dressed in a black cloak that billowed out behind him. His horse was the same obsidian shade, and it bellowed out a mighty whinny as the rider approached. There were two saddlebags slung over the horse, and it had blue blinders over its face. Its mane was black and flowed majestically as the wind caught it. The rider had his head bowed low to ensure that his hood didn’t blow back, protecting his eyes from the whipping wind. As the horse slowed, the rider alighted in one graceful movement, landing on the cobblestones of the courtyard with aplomb. Ellen was sitting in her usual spot, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders when her skin began to prickle with goosebumps, so she watched it all with great curiosity.
The rider flung back his hood and unclasped his cloak. It fell into his arms and he thrust it into one of the saddlebags, after giving his horse a vigorous rub on the side of the neck. As soon as Ellen saw him she recognized him.
“Alan!” she cried out, and leaped up from the bench. Alan turned around and grinned when he saw Ellen. He was thirty-five and was almost as tall as her father. He had a narrow face with a mop of black hair that always seemed to be askew. He wore leather hunting boots, thick trousers, and a white tunic that was open at the collar. He had leather gloves on, and a sword hung by his side. Stubble lined his face, and his crooked smile greeted her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him in a quick hug.
“I’m sorry that my visit isn’t in better circumstances,” he said. “Your father was a great man, and I only wish I could have done more to help him.”
“You were there?” Ellen asked.
Alan nodded. “I’d like to tell you all about it, but perhaps it’s better if we go and see your mother,” he said. Ellen acquiesced and led him into the house where her mother was sitting by the fire, trying to warm the cold emptiness inside her, but no fire could warm the deep abyss that had taken hold around her heart.
Ellen was glad to see Alan though. The man had been some
thing of a protégé of her father’s. Robin had trained him, and in those days Ellen had looked on with envy at their lessons as she wanted to be a part of them. Now he was here, and things seemed a little bit brighter.
3
Ellen and Alan walked into where Myra was sitting. Myra was staring at the flames as though they held some secret.
“Mother, we have a visitor,” Ellen said gently, placing her hand on Myra’s shoulder. Myra didn’t stir. She just gazed into the flickering flames.
“Myra...it’s me, Alan,” he said, introducing himself, stepping out of the darkness to be illuminated by the orange glow of the fire himself. As soon as she heard that it was him, Myra turned and gasped. A smile appeared on her face. It was the first positive emotion she had shown since they had learned of Robin’s death. She flung her arms around Alan’s shoulders in relief, as though she was welcoming a long lost son back into her home.
“Alan, it’s so good to see you. I wasn’t expecting you. How did you know what happened? Robin told me that you were out roaming the Highlands looking for adventure? Or have you just arrived and you were looking for him, in which case I’m sorry…but he’s dead,” she said, choking on the last words as though they were too difficult to speak.
“I know Myra, I know. I’m sorry. I wish I had come at a better time. I was in the Highlands, yes. It’s a deadly, horrid place filled with all manner of evil,” Alan began. Ellen listened intently, eager to hear about this aspect of life as it was something that she wanted to experience for herself. Alan had always had a wandering, adventurous spirit, and he managed to live the life that she had always dreamed of.
“But after some time I began to miss home, so I returned and I managed to turn my profits into something more substantial. I took on a few contracts and also earned favors from some nobles, and I was able to procure myself a small homestead on the border of Scotland, near where the battle took place. It has never been the safest area, but even this show of force left me surprised as I didn’t think the Highlanders would come with such ferocity.”
“You were there?” Ellen gasped.
“I was indeed,” Alan said somberly. “I had been intending to come by here for a visit, but I did send word to Robin. He came by on his way to the battle and told me about it. He said the villagers had put together all the coin they had in the hope of finding an army who could drive the Highlanders away for good, and that they could use a man like me. Well, I have to be honest and say that I had my fill of fighting the Highlanders over the last few years, but I wasn’t about to refuse a favor to my old friend. I mounted Blaze and we rode out to battle, like the old days.” A wistful smile appeared on his face, which quickly disappeared as his thoughts turned to the battle itself.
“There were more Highlanders than we realized, and the men fighting alongside us weren’t trained as well as we were. Most of them were scared and the Highlanders broke through the lines. They were fighting to kill, as though they had some score to settle. Robin and I got separated in the conflict. I saw him near the end, called out to him, but I…I couldn’t reach him in time. I’m sorry.” His head dipped and his hand rose to his heart. “After he died I was so filled with rage that I cut five of them down in a single breath, and the rest of our men took this as a rallying cry and beat back the Highlanders until they retreated. I was the fortunate one this time, but we could not have won without Robin’s valiant efforts.”
Myra nodded and dabbed at her cheeks, but Ellen’s face was flushed with fury.
“Did you see who killed him? Which one of them was it? Did you get him?”
Alan blinked and paused for a moment, taken aback by the force of her question.
“I’m sorry Ellen, in all the confusion I didn’t see. I may well have got the man who killed him by chance, but I cannot say for certain,” Alan said in faltering words. Ellen nodded somberly, but her hands clenched into tight balls by her side.
“I did manage to get something else though,” he said, and rummaged around in his pocket. He produced a sapphire ring that had been Robin’s. Many times Ellen had felt the caress of the jewel as Robin had stroked her cheek. Myra’s eyes lit up as she took the ring and kissed the jewel. It was as though a part of her husband had been returned to her.
“I’m sorry I could not do more,” Alan said.
“No, Alan, you have been wonderful,” Myra said, reaching out to clasp his chest with one hand. “It’s so reassuring to me that you were on the same battlefield with Robin. At least he wasn’t alone when he died, not truly, because he would have known that you were close by. I only wish that he could have returned from battle as well so we could have had a proper reunion. It would have been good for us all to be together again.”
“Actually,” Alan said after a long pause, “there is something else that I would like to talk to you about. Both of you.” He pointedly glanced at Ellen. “Before the battle Robin and I had some time to talk about our lives and what had happened since the last time we saw each other. He particularly mentioned how you”—he turned to Ellen—“are of the age to be married, but how he has struggled to find a suitable match for you. He said that it was difficult to find someone who could understand your sensibilities and the more we spoke the more it seemed that there was a solution that could satisfy both our mutual needs. You see, I have been adventuring for a long time now and I feel as though I need a break from roaming the wilderness. To make it plain, I now have a home and it’s something I am proud of, but a home needs more than one man. I require a wife, and I think it makes sense for that wife to be you,” he said.
Ellen was stunned. Myra clapped her hands and smiled with delight, interrupting her grief. Ellen forced a smile because it was expected of her, but her mind was racing.
“What about this home? What about Mother?”
“We can talk about the details at a later date, but needless to say your mother will be taken care of. Ellen, your father told me how you feel. Surely you must accept that it’s better to marry someone you know than a stranger?”
The question hung in the air and Ellen wasn’t sure how to answer, but Alan quickly clapped his hands and smiled. “It is not as though you need to decide just yet. I thought that I might stay for a short while and we can arrange the finer details of the proposal before we move forward.”
Ellen nodded and mumbled something incoherent. Myra seemed to think it was the most wonderful idea ever and insisted that Alan should join her for some supper. Ellen slowly receded from the room, backing away into the shadows of the house. Alan and Myra reminisced about Robin, but Ellen was filled with doubt. She had always had a soft spot for Alan, but this all felt so sudden and it wasn’t like her father to make a decision like this without telling her first. It seemed he had been more desperate than she realized…and she thought it might not be so bad to marry Alan since he knew what she was like, and perhaps he might even indulge her adventurous spirit and give her the opportunities that no other man would give her.
During the following two weeks, Alan was around the house a great deal. He ingratiated himself with Myra and tried to speak with Ellen as often as possible, although now that he had proposed marriage the dynamic between them had changed. Ellen had always felt as though she could be open with him, but now their conversations had a different edge. He looked at her differently than he used to, with lust in his eyes, and she knew that things weren’t going to be the same as they used to be.
Over the course of these few weeks, Alan went back and forth between his home and theirs, stopping off at various towns and trading posts along the way, returning with gifts. He brought delicious food and new clothes for Myra, plus precious jewels and beautiful gowns for Ellen. It was an ostentatious showing of wealth and Ellen was quite disgusted by the sight of it all, because it was far from what she imagined. Of course, her mother insisted that she wear the clothes Alan had bought for her whenever he feasted with them so she forced herself into the dresses, feeling utterly uncomfortable at every moment, fid
geting as though the earth was quaking underneath her rump.
“Do you like the gifts?” Alan said one night as he approached her in the courtyard. Ellen had been so disconcerted by this shift in their dynamic that she tried to spend as much time by herself as possible.
“I…” she began. She knew her mother would want her to omit the truth for the sake of the proposal. It was important to play nice, but Ellen simply didn’t have it in her. “May I be honest with you?”
“Of course,” Alan chuckled. “If I remember rightly, honesty was never a weak point.”
“It’s just that…this all feels like so much. I am just a humble girl and all of this”—she pinched the hem of her buttercup-colored dress and spread it all around her—“is just too much.”
“Nonsense!” Alan said with a broad smile. “Life is meant to be enjoyed, and you of all people should have the opportunity to enjoy the finer things in life. You have been through a great sorrow and there is nothing wrong with feeling good.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I know that you have been through a lot so I don’t want to overwhelm you, but people like us have spent too long on the fringes of society. I have faced death so many times, but I have finally been rewarded and now I can give you the life you deserve. It’s what your father wanted.”
Ellen bit her lip. “That may be true, but have you considered what I want in all of this?” Her voice wavered for she knew she was taking a risk in questioning her potential husband.
Alan furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “I’m not sure I understand. Do you not want to be married?”
Ellen threw her hands up and paced the ground in front of him. “It’s not that I don’t want to get married. It’s that I don’t want this.” She gestured towards her dress again. “This just isn’t me, and you should know that. Don’t you remember what I was like? Surely it hasn’t been that long.”
Duty And Passion In The Highlands: A Scottish Medieval Historical Highlander Collection Page 27