by Diana Knight
Elena
Highlanders of Silver Island
Diana Knight
KS Publishing
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
Copyright © 2017 by KS Publishing
Copyright © 2017 Elena All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This also included conveying via e-mail without permission in writing from the publisher. This book is for entertainment purposes only. All work is fiction creation from the mind of the author, all persons or places relating to real life characters or locations is purely coincidental.
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1
Chapter One
The sound of screaming filled her ears. Her heart was pounding as she watched the chaos ensue. Just let it be over. Please. She screamed inside her head. The woman in front of her was holding her stomach, her legs high in the air as she cried out to die.
“Lena. Get over here.” She heard Mary call her name. Her long brown hair was scattered with silver, she was aging gracefully and soon to be a grandmother it would seem.
Mulla continued to cry. She was begging for death as she started to push. She was just shy of her 17th summer, two years younger than Lena herself yet she was already bringing a child into the world. This world. Where war and blood dripped on every corner, she couldn’t bear to do it. Lena grabbed a wool rag and placed it underneath Mulla, getting a full view of the black hairy head popping out of her. Bile jumped into her throat and the room started to spin. Mulla screamed hard again and kicked out in a panic missing Lena’s head by an inch.
“Just push Mulla. It is a baby, not a horse.” Mary spoke, her voice soft and stern.
Mulla bit down on her lip while Lena patted the sweat from her brow. She softly combed back her hair and grabbed her hand. Mulla squeezed Lena tightly and let out one final scream. Suddenly she collapsed. It was a whirlwind of events after that. Lena was quick to keep Mulla awake, making sure she didn’t fall to the fate of a weak mother. Mulla had become her only friend in Silver Port, she could not lose her to this. After a splash of cold water across her face, Mulla awoke to a reliving face and Lena hugged her tightly.
“It’s a boy” Lena said and kissed Mulla on the forehead. The new mother blinked slowly and looked towards Mary who now held a small pink chubby ball in her hands. The baby screaming was much easier to handle than the screaming a few moments ago. The mood in the room had changed, but Lena could feel the urge to leave. Especially after what Mulla would say next.
“I- I’d like to name him Manard.” Mulla said and looked at her mother. Lena swallowed hard and felt the chills crawl up her spine. The eyes all turned to her, to see what she would say.
“I think- I think it is a wonderful name my Mulla.” Lena felt the air catch in her throat as she spoke, but it doesn’t look like anyone noticed.
Everyone turned to look at the baby, but the tension was still high and the awkward feeling was stirring like a pot of overcooked stew.
“No now Mulla. The Walsh rule is you name the children after the letter their father holds. How about Jiles, Jameson, or Jerald.” Mary said, running her fingers through her daughter’s damp hair.
“Jorge. I like that name.” Mulla said and kissed the pink baby on the head.
Lena let out a sigh of relief that the name had changed, the last thing she needed was a reminder of Manard and his death in the Battle of Minch. It would already be hung over her head for the rest of her life. Especially now that she was married to his brother Marren, and her own brother Ferry was the one that fought against him.
When the room had settled and Lena could feel it was appropriate to leave, she did just so. She ran out of the room and let her lungs fill with the smell of freshly caught fish and sunrise. She hadn’t slept in a day, not since Mulla had lost her belly water and started feeling Jorge make his entrance. Now that the adrenaline was falling from her, she could feel the exhaustion taking hold. Silver Port was just now beginning to awake. The sound of small chatter from the center court could be heard from the balcony of Mary and Malcolm Walsh’s homestead. Lena’s father had been kind to them after they had agreed to forfeit their alliance with the English. With the Scottish war continuing, her father had become a great beacon of success on the Minch Island. Though he would never be as great as Sir William Wallace. The thought of him sent a rush through her spine, she thought of her six brothers. How six had left for the battle of Minch, and only five returned. Now they were off fighting in Stirling Bridge, it had been weeks since she had last heard from them. They are fine. They must be. The pain of not knowing stung at her heart. The morning air blew past her and sent her curly dark red hair across her face. It was long and thick, it went down past her hind-end and was in a partial braid when she had a proper morning to prepare. By the time she was done containing her air into her hands she saw him. Marren. The man her father told her she would come to love, but with each passing day it only seemed falser than before. Marren had dark hair the color of burned coal, his eyes were the color of the moss on the trees, and he had a long jaw-line that made him always look serious and stern. He was walking with his father Malcolm, and his uncles Reginald, Lewis, and Braden. Behind him were his cousins Rollen, Lester, Braden Walsh II, and the new father James Harris. The Walsh Clan was large and obedient. There were five Walsh brothers all together but only three remained alive, three Harris brothers who’d all died in the war and now only had their families to take their name, and lastly there were two Dell brothers who were far too old to fight in wars. The worst part of them all, was that they all used to be Englishmen. They continued to walk up towards the house, a few of them were stuttering and tilting with each step. Lena knew they would smell of ale and sausage, but they were celebrating James child and she knew that was at least a decent reason for a drunken walk home. Lena eyed her new husband carefully, wondering if he would ever come to love her the way James loved Mulla. When Marren’s moss green eyes met hers, she felt her stomach spin. His look was quick but it still sent a vibrating feeling through her, he hated her.
“He looks like his father.” Mary’s voice appeared behind her, Lena jumped and grabbed her chest in the surprise.
“Marren?” Lena was still lost in thought.
“Jorge, but yes. Marren as well. How is he?” She asked her, she seemed to have a way with understanding the inner thoughts of those around her. Lena knew she had no choice but to deliver her an answer.
“It is the same. I do not want to force him to love me. I do not love him either. He has every right to hate me.” Lena admitted, she’d come to know Marren’s family quite well. The women at least. Mary was his mother, and she was the wisest woman Lena had ever known. Mulla was his youngest sister, and her only support since she’d made her vows. Madeline Walsh was a recent widow from the war, but her beauty would not keep
her lonely for long. The only sister Lena had not met was Mirana, who was supposedly out fighting the war with the men against the English.
“You were not the one who killed Manard. Just like Marren was not the one who killed Laird Ferry. My father sent me to marry Malcom, and it took me almost a full summer before I would let him into my bed.” Mary said leaning over the balcony waving at the men as they walked closer.
That gave Lena some comfort, but it still did not make things any easier. The men had finally arrived, and Marren was quick to greet his youngest sister. James took his newborn son in his arms and the men cheered when they saw the small ligament between his legs. It was a cheer Lena would never understand, but their joy made her smile. Marren only smiled when he was with his family, he never smiled at Lena and especially not on the day they were married. They’d both fought the marriage as hard as they could, but in the end Lena and Marren’s fathers were the ones to make the judgement.
“We will bind our clans and keep the English out. Do your duty.” Lena remembers her father telling her. She had not seen him since he’d left for the battle with her brothers. It made her heart hurt again.
“My little sister, who knew you could bring something so beautiful into the world.” Marren teased and looked at Jorge.
“Oh hush it you. I know you and Lena will have the handsomest children, just look at er hair.” Mulla said with an innocent smile.
Marren’s smile faded and he looked at Lena. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks, she knew her face would surely be blending into her hair by now. Her husband turned back to Mulla and kissed her on the forehead, then he turned to Lena and extended his arm.
“I am tired. We should go.” Was all he said. Lena took him by the arm as they walked out the door. Lena waved a small goodbye and watched the warm and happy room fade into the distance.
They walked in silence for most of the way, not saying a word to each other or even a glance to the other. She had her arm slipped into the crook of his and they walked towards their small home by the sea. The dirt roads were still empty, and the dew on the grass was still freshly made. Lena swallowed hard as the awkward touching was beginning to get to her, she wanted to let go of him.
“Thank you for helping my sister.” He spoke, his voice was soft and genuine.
“Of course. I love Mulla as well, I was happy to be there for her and Jorge.” Lena said pinching her lips together to keep herself from smiling.
“Jorge. What an awful name.” Marren laughed slightly, his chuckle sent a shock of bliss through her, she wanted to hear more.
“She wanted to name him Manard.” Lena said without thinking, her mind suddenly regretting the words. Her face scrunched as she felt him stiffen around her arm, the tension back into their bodies.
“She should have.” Marren said and slipped his arm from hers as he walked forward.
With his fast pace and straight steps Lena could hardly keep up. She walked slowly behind him and watched the orange sunrise appear. As Marren grew smaller in the distance she could still squint and see his fists were tightly clenched. He will never love me. Lena thought about her future for a moment, she knew if she wanted to have one worth living she would have to do something.
2
Chapter Two
He watched her slow breaths as she slept. Her red hair was tangled around her and she seemed to be dreaming peacefully. He clenched his jaw tightly together and let the sigh seep through his teeth. Walsh’s never surrender. His heart was pounding as he thought of his brother. Manard was now lying in a shallow grave surrounded by Scots and dead Englishmen. It was not fair. Not fair at all. To make matters worse, Marren was now forced into a union with an enemy his clan swore to defeat. Lena turned and rolled over beside him, his eyes widened as he prepared for her to wake up. She was facing him now, and he could see the small curve of her lips. She was so innocent, she had no idea of the war he had seen. She was seven summers younger than him, and yet she did her duty without complaint unlike him. Marren knew she was unhappy with the marriage as well, but she had not showed it yet. Her emotional strength was impressive. She was obedient beyond belief to her family, if marrying him meant protection for her family she would do it over again in a heartbeat. Marren did not meet her until the day they were to be married, he remembers fighting with his father over why it had to be him. You are the eldest son now, you will marry her to bind the clans. Marren thought over the conversation in his head again. The day after Marren and Lena had married, he was sent off with his and her male family to defend the island. They fought the Englishmen with her family, Laird Ferry was among the ones who did not return, and the look on Lena’s face still haunted him. She blames me. Though she would never say it. Marren blamed her brothers for Manards death, it was only fair for her to blame him. He heard her sigh and he looked back over to her, she was beautiful and he would never deny it. Yet her dark blood colored hair and wheat dyed eyes continued to remind him that she was more of a Scotsman than him. The sun was now high above them, he had slept a few hours at least which was good. His father would be arriving at his home hungover and angry but there was far too much work that needed to be done. I am nothing but a farmer. Marren angrily thought as he pushed himself up from the straw cot. Before his family had made alliances with the Macleod clan they were fighting on the front lines. Since their defeat they’d been put back to protect the women and children, something he thought was work for old men. Not him. As the Macleod clan went to Stirling Bridge, his clan was left on Minch to protect the island and keep the people safe. They were building walls, fences, and barriers for boats. He felt like the people were nothing but cattle, and he was supposed to make sure they behaved. It was Laird William McLeod’s way of keeping the new clan in line. The island was the perfect place for them to prove their loyalty. To make the clans bond tighter, he had even offered his eldest daughter Lena to bring Walsh and Macleod blood together for eternity.
“Are you thinking of Manard again?” If honey had a voice, it would be hers.
“No.” He told her, his jaw clenching with what else he could say.
“Alright.” She whispered and rolled over away from him.
He knew she was just trying to talk about it. He knew she wanted nothing more than to make this marriage as simple and happy as possible. He knew he should say something else, but nothing came to mind. He looked at their room. A small bed they both fit on was placed in the corner, across the room from their feet was an unlit fireplace, and to his left was the rest of the room. A small table with dry bread, cheese, and yesterday’s market choices. After Mulla lost her water, there was no time to eat the food. Lena would most likely make something with it tonight. What do I say? He sat there for a moment, the sunlight was shining through the cracks of their blinds. The dust dancing in its rays like a small performance.
“I was thinking-”
A knock sounded at the door just when he began to speak.
“Marren, we gots work to do. Lots of it. Get yerself clothed and ready. They’ll be enough time for humpin’ later.” His father was laughing with the rest of the men just outside the door.
They could only assume that since Marren was married that he was sleeping with the sweet Elena every night. The truth was far from it. In fact, they had not even consummated their marriage, his father would be furious if he found out. Both of their fathers.
“Coming.” Marren said clearing his throat and lifting himself out of the bed.
His feet touched the cold wooden floor, it sent good-feeling shivers up his spine as it cooled sunlight that hit him. Lena was still lying in bed, he could feel her eyes watching him. Say something. He tried to convince himself, but the moment had passed. With the September heat it made dressing quite easy. A small sash of Walsh clan colors wrapped around his right shoulder and across his chest. Since he had become a man he had worn the red and blue across his chest, in the summer it was nice not to worry about the wool underneath. He grabbed a slice of stale bread on
the counter and went forward to the door.
“I’ll be back around midday. We are fencing the south side of Silver Port.” Marren told her without turning to look at her.
“I’ll have lettuce from Farmer Taylor. A salad might do well in the heat.” Lena said, it made a smile cross his face as he heard her voice then.
“Then, I will see you.” He said and pushed the door closed.
“I will see you.” Lena said back as the door was closing.
Malcom Walsh was a thickly built man, what muscle did not thicken him it was the ale that did the rest of the work. He had a long brown beard that hid his fat neck and his sash around his chest settled on a mound of curly brown hair. He was carrying the rocks for the wall by the armfuls. Each rock was carried from the cave and mountains around the island, the smallest rock was the same weight as a small child. So to see his father carrying two at a time under his arms still impressed him.
“You are going to hurt your back, then what good’ll ya be? We’ll stick ya with the women for the cookin’ and even then they wouldn’t want ya.” Lewis Walsh laughed a belly barreled laugh and the rest of them laughed along.
Marren laughed at his father as he turned around with the two round rocks under each of his arms, his hands straining to keep them up as he spoke.
“It’s all the same size. If your mind gettin’ what I say.”
The rest of the clan was laughing with almost tears in their eyes. With a drop of his arms the two large rocks fell onto the wall they were building and heightened it by an arms-length. Marren continued to scan the seas as he heard the rocks clinging together. The wall was just about as high as him, he would have to walk the full length around to Silver Port gates if he did not hurry. Yet he had no hurry. He scanned the sea and watched the waves rise and push against the rocks. He was almost 100 feet above the sea level, but this section was all but too easy to climb. That was why a wall was being built, as by request from the Macleod clan. He watched the blue and green water rise and fall, the white bubbles kissing the standing rocks and separating as they forcefully collided. The smell of salt, fish, and wet grass filled his nose. From his view now he could not see the Scot island with the clouds passing over, soon they would breeze past and he could squint his eyes to see the small darkened colors of the cliffside. His home, but it was almost gone. The English had taken over, William Wallace’s rampage could only last so long Marren knew. When his town was captured, they had to make a choice. Fight on the English side, trade with only the English, and breed with the English men and women to cleanse the country from pure Scot blood. The English said it was either that or they would kill the youngest first, so they fought their kin. It had been a full circle of summer until the English had told the Walsh clan to go to island and capture it for the English, they were given an English boat, weapons, and attire. Lewis and Lester were the only Walsh men who actually wanted to serve the English. They had promised them all land and fortune at the end of the war, as long as they kept their loyalty. Now we will all die. Marren thought as he heard the rocks continue to build behind him. When they arrived on the island the Scots had no choice but to attack. They killed Manard before he’d even drawn a sword. That was the benefit of an island. They could attack from land while the enemy was taking on water. Now that they were back on the side of the Scots, things were still hard for him to deal with. The English tortured their people, and they still hold the town he once lived in as a child. If they knew the Walsh clan betrayed them, all the people would be killed within a fortnight. The waves crashed hard and the cold mist embraced his face. It caused him to look up across the sea again, only this time he no longer felt the same calm feeling as before. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck, his throat caught as he tried to shout to his clan.
