by Diana Knight
7
Chapter Seven
The wool blankets were stacked on the floor, their bodies were mangled together as Lena began to awake from her deep sleep. Her mouth was dry, but her mind was clear. The instant she felt his breath on her bare chest she rolled over across the bed and pulled the blanket from the ground around her. The redness on her cheeks were heating up the room, but Marren did not seem to move or be startled by her yet. His eyes were still closed, a small curve of his lips proved it was possible for him to smile. She stared at him as she bit her lip, she could remember everything from last night. The sweat, the passion, and the tension. Yet even now she did not feel regret. He moved his head just then and a rush of fluttering chills coursed through her at the thought of him seeing her stare. Except she could not turn away. She stared at the redness of his lips, how they were carefully caressing each part of her body the night before. Those very lips that spoke of resentment and war were the same that showed her enough love to last a lifetime. What is happening. She imagined there would be regret, that she would wake up in the morning and run out the door as soon as she could. Their marriage was forced upon them, they were not allowed to choose who they wanted so Lena only assumed she would never love him. They met because of war and death, they were married out of mistrust and anger, yet they made love still.
“Why are you staring.”
She gasped as her mind went back to reality and she saw Marren’s soft eyes staring back at her. His forehead was slightly crinkled yet he still had a small grin. Lena’s cheeks warmed up instantly again, she was growing tired of always blushing around him.
“I’m- I am sorry.” Lena said, not sure where this conversation was going to go.
She heard him let out a soft chuckle as he lifted into a sitting position. He rubbed his tired face in his hands while he let out a louder laugh. Lena looked at him bewildered, she could not see what would be so funny.
“Why- Are you laughing?” Lena asked him, finding his laugh rather contagious and beginning so laugh along.
They quietly laughed as they looked at each other, his action had been the right move. Lena preferred laughing over the situation than trying to pretend it didn’t happen. He turned to her and brought his hand up to the blanket that wrapped around her. He traced his fingertips up and down the blanket and across her body. The laughing began to slow, and soon it was quiet once again.
“You know the Messenger will be here today. What if they call you to war?” Lena asked, it had been a question she’d never thought appropriate enough before. Now the thought of him going off to fight along the fearless William Wallace only sent fear into her gut.
Marren pursed his lips and let his hand drop to his side. He looked down at her body, she could see he was staring at her curves as he contemplated an answer.
“Then I will go. Your father will want me to fight.” Marren said easily.
“But he-” Lena almost said something she realized would have been completely inappropriate. She sucked in her lips after she stopped herself.
If there was one thing she was beginning to understand about Marren, it was that he was quick to understand her. He could understand her thoughts sometimes more than she could herself. With that, he knew exactly where she had been going with her statement and he let out a loud unhinged laugh.
“Well, I think there will be plenty of time to bind the clans after I return.” Marren said and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead.
Lena smiled at his touch and tried to hold back the blushing for now. Marren lifted himself off the bed and slipped on his kilt and sash of clan colors. He was ready in seconds, Lena was far too jealous of that. She slipped out of the bed as well and kept the blanket wrapped around her as she tried to find her underdress. After slipping it across her body she saw Marren was standing there with a dress in his hands. It was a different dress than she usually wore. It was a gift from Marren’s mother on their wedding day. She had not planned to ever wear it, at least not when Marren was so cold towards her. Lena feared it would have been an insult rather than a gesture of kindness. A lump caught in her throat as she tried to control her breathing. She strode over towards him and together they slipped on the dress, her heart still racing wildly.
The English ship was nowhere in sight, but the small messenger boat was almost to the docks. They were going to hear about the war on the mainland. The one that would tell him when and where he would finally get to fight. He hoped he had now proved to Lord William Macleod that his clan was ready to defend their people. The boat was within view, and people were already beginning to gather around. Marren could see Lena standing beside his sister, his face turned red as their eyes met. Something about seeing her in the dress of his clan made him lose his words. The boat clanked against the wooden dock and Lord Malcolm extended a gracious greeting to the messenger. It had been too long since they had been informed on the war, and after their last victory Marren could only assume that the days of the English reign were numbered. The look on the man’s face was unreadable, he looked neither happy or scared. This was unsettling in several ways for him. Marren turned to look at Lena, who was now talking with the villagers of Silver Port. Old women, men, children, and traders. They all loved to hear her kind words. Some of the children even grabbed hold of the new dress and admired the colors. The pride swelled inside him.
“You fool.” He heard the whisper from behind him. Marren turned and saw his cousin Lester standing there were a glare in his eyes.
“You bed her, and now Lord Macleod owns us. We aren’t meant to follow his rules. We were meant to be our own Lords and leaders. You are a fool Marren.” Lester hissed.
“Bedding her is none of your business, and I understand Lord Macleod’s mistrust. We are proving our strengths still cousin.” Marren said, but his cousin growled at each word.
“What are you saying? You are turning into one of them. That whore has you in her spell. She-” Lester’s words choked off.
“She… Is my wife.” Marren said and let the tight white-knuckled grip on Lester’s arm go.
Lester went quiet for a moment before rubbing his arm to bring the blood flow back into it.
“You are betraying you clansmen. You were not like this at the start.” Lester huffed and pushed past him. Marren let out a restrained huff of air, he had not expected that sort of confrontation today. He looked back over to Lena, her eyes looked concerned and it was clear she had seen part of whatever just occurred.
He had no time to explain it to her, and he did not want too. Lester was just a passionate clansman, he wants things to be how they used to be. How their village on the mainland looked to only the Walsh clan for protection, security, and trust. They were the kings of their village and now they were the guards to another here. It was a hard adjustment to make, but Lester also had no one. Marren could see his sister Mulla thriving in her new life here. He could see his mother and father happily rebuilding new relationships with the people of Silver Port, and Lena. Lester had no one but his father, as his mother was one of the victims when the English sacked their home. His life had been destroyed by the war, Marren could feel the hurt in his own heart. He turned back to Lena, her face was now turned and kissing the pink faced baby in Mulla’s arms. Marren caught his eyes getting lost on her body as the messenger man cleared his throat. Marren finally saw the look of him, his body was thin and frail. The blue-blooded veins stuck out brightly against his cloud white skin.
“I have the message from the mainland.” The man croaked out dryly.
“Well gone on then, read it!” Lord Malcolm shouted.
“Read it! Read it!” The people around them began to chant.
The messenger cleared his throat, and now Marren could see the flash of fear in his eyes.
“Islands, farmlands, and all who have men. We need your swords and banners now. The mainland needs all those who can fight for the war has only just begun. Fight. Fight with me and our victory will give you land and title for the c
oming ages. Now. Leave now and meet us at the West Mountain side. Call for me and I will bring my men to you. We fight for freedom. Signed Sir William Wallace.”
The voices around gasped in surprise and delight. William Wallace is asking me to fight. Marren thought, his hands beginning to shake in anticipation. His cousin Rollen was cheering with his fist in the air, soon everyone joined in their clan’s war chant of victory. This was not just good news, this was the news Marren had been waiting for. A call for all men to fight, including him. He saw this as the opportunity he had been dreaming of, a chance to take revenge for the island he had lost. He would fight alongside William Wallace, the bravest man in all of Scotland. Nothing would make him prouder than being able to fight once again. His country needed him, his people needed him, and now William Wallace needed him. The passion in his heart was pounding, he felt Lena come up beside him, but he knew what her eyes would say. He listened to his father and the rest of the clansmen shout with war cries and sounds of battle. They were going to bring the war to the English, and maybe take down that ship that had been surrounding their island for once and for all. He felt the warm hand grasp his, her soft fingers tracing the rough callused skin on his palm. Marren swallowed hard and pulled his hand away slowly. She does not understand. He thought and walked towards his brothers in arms.
“Wallace, Wallace, Wallace!” The men shouted around him.
“Wallace!” Marren joined in.
The mood had escalated around them. The passion could be felt with each heartbeat. They would gather their swords and bows for war, they were going to fight for their people. They could not let the English take away their right to Scotsman’s future. The sound of an arriving horn blew. The horses from Colreed arrived with their riders. Lena’s brothers were already wearing their shields of armor to leave. They must have turned right around after dropping off the lord and his people at Colreed, now they were ready to fight as well. Terryn, Baret, and Neal were there already, but from first glance Marren thought Terryn was Lord Macleod. He did not realize how much he looked like his father. The three men dismounted their horses and embraced Lena, Marren saw her smiling and whispering to them like close friends. What is she saying? Marren squinted his eyes in suspicion as he saw them glance in his direction every few seconds. His face reddened as he imagined her telling them every detail of the night before. She would not. Except it may put her father’s mind at ease knowing they were not afraid to touch. Either way the conversation was happening, it seemed to be met with agreement from her brothers. He looked over to his cousins who stood in salute ready to take arms with the MacLeod’s. His father, his uncles, and all the rest of the Walsh clan was indebted to them, now was the time for them to reclaim and thank the MacLeod’s for their generosity. The thought was hard for Marren to swallow, but he knew he would be dead if it were not for their pardon. Terryn came walking towards them, he drew his sword and stuck it in the air for a call of attention. The men hollered in admiration towards him, Marren could feel the fighting blood boil in his veins.
“We will take men from Walsh and Macleod together. We will fight with Wallace and our king Robert the Bruce. I, Terryn Macleod, son of the great Lord William Macleod and fighter on the Battle of Sterling bridge. I ask for your company to fight with me!” Terryn shouted.
Marren agreed with full force, his fear of death no longer a second thought.
“Then I will take the strongest. The father’s and full Lord’s only. The sons and heirs shall stay to defend and reclaim their land when the war is done.” Terryn shouted, though there were less cheers than before.
“What do you mean?” Lester was the first to show his distain to the idea. He stepped forward with fire in his eyes.
“We do not know yet when we will return, it could be a full year from now. Anything can happen and things will happen. We need strong fighters to stay behind. To stay safe.” Terryn said.
To stay safe. Marren turned to look at Lena, her eyes wide towards him. What did she say? It was as if he had been stabbed already, the feeling of being left behind scoured inside him. They do not think I can fight? The thoughts and images ran through his mind. Doubt, mistrust, fear. He did not have any of that for his brothers through marriage. Yet Terryn looked at him and his cousins like nothing more than children, they were the same age. Terryn was more battle worn, but that did not mean he was stronger or more fearless. Marren walked away, the hollers of his clan shouting behind him. He was wrapped in a blurry state; his head was dizzied with rage and confusion. A soft hand touched his back, he snapped around and grabbed her frail wrist in his palm. He squeezed tighter as he stared her in the eyes.
“You did not do this. Tell me you did not ask to keep me here?” He swallowed hard and stared in her eyes.
“I- I did not. Marren I, I only asked that they keep you safe. I did not think this was their plan.” Lena’s eyes flowed with tears of pain. Marren let his grip go as he saw Terryn walking over.
“She has no part in this. It is me who decides. Our father stays in Colreed, leaving me as the next commander. You and your cousins will stay. Your father’s leave with us now.” Terryn said and walked away.
“Stop it lad, you will make a fool of yourself or worse. So, you don’t get to fight now. The war will still be goin’ long after us men are dead.” His father smacked him on the back of the head with his shield as he walked towards the large boat that had just been docked there not long ago.
“Father, he can’t control us like this. We, we are Lords too.” Marren said, feeling the same sort of anger Lester had exhumed before.
“Lords? Lords of what? The English killed all we had son. That is why we go and fight, if you want to be a Lord someday, you are safer to stay here to watch the island. You will get your share of fighting in this war or the next.” His father said and brought his head towards his.
A saying of goodbye the Scottish men had done for centuries. No words, no embraces, merely a touch of the forehead that signified the other would be on their mind and in their heart. No matter what happened.
Marren stood next to his mother and Mulla as they cried watching his father leave on the ship. His uncles waved and rallied their swords in the air. Marren looked around for Lena but could see no sign of her, surely, she was somewhere hiding with tears in her eyes. Her brothers were leaving for battle as well, she had just as much if not more to lose on the ship. Marren knew he should go find her. He should hold her and comfort her, but he could not move. He did not want to move. He was angry that she spoke to her brothers, and that would take a while for him to get over. Especially with Lester standing close to him cursing the Macleod family with each breath.
“It’s not fair of them to ride on their horses like knights and cast us aside like peasants.” Lester huffed.
“Hush you.” Rollen whispered to him.
Marren looked around for his third cousin Braden Walsh II, he was a beefy man who loved wine and cheap meals. Yet he was nowhere in sight. The bartender and innkeeper were waving the ship farewell, so he could not be knee-deep in wine yet. While he was also not waving goodbye to his father either. Marren looked back over on the ship. That weasel. Braden’s thick figure was standing next to his fathers, their beards matched in length and thickness. It was not hard to see he was younger than the rest. Marren cursed at himself for not having the same idea.
“Let’s be off then.” Rollen said as the ship continued to grow smaller.
“Where?” Marren asked as he walked by Lester.
“To the inn, where the protectors of Silver Port ought to be.” Rollen laughed with his belly.
Lester did not fall to the amusement, but Marren tried to take the situation lightly as well.
We are stuck here either way. He thought. Marren looked over to the sea once more, the boat was nothing more than a fly sized marker on the never-ending blue line out in front of him. They were walking further into Silver Port; the inn was within sight now. He would drink today, but not as much as Lester.
His cousin looked as if hell had been brought to the back of his eyes, he fumed with each step and his jaw looked locked in tension. Lester would drink a river of wine today, and Marren was thinking of joining him. He understood what the real message was today. They were nothing.
8
Chapter Eight
You are such a fool. Lena slighted to herself. Marren had not returned to their home in two days, at least it felt like it had been two days already. It was one night alone, last night. She went to sleep from her tears and awoke with pain in her head and an empty bed. The last sign she saw of her husband was when he was walking away with his cousins towards the pub. She could only assume he was spending the evening there drowning in ale and wine. Lena nibbled on the dry bread at the table, her stomach turned with hunger but she did not feel like eating. The day had just begun, the end of summer was upon them and it would seem they days were growing darker. Lena opened the shutters to her home, the cold salt smelling wind gusted through the window and into her hair. The sunset was just beginning to show itself and the city still slept. Lena wondered what her father was dreaming of, a small hint of comfort warmed her knowing her mother, sister, and father were safe in Colreed. If she took a horse now she could be there by the midweek, with only her traveling there would be no stops except to rest the horse at night. I could do it. She bit her lip in thought. The warm smelling fires that always burned on sticks. Colreed was a farming village with small clay houses that dug into the ground. She loved the dirt floor feeling under her feet and the quiet sounds of grass growing around them. Colreed was surrounded by a forest, and it had been untouched and hidden from war. A perfect paradise that she was feeling homesick for. At this hour, her mother would most likely be waking to bring the bread and goat milk to the table. Little Maria would be sleeping soundly in an overly large bed Lena used to share with her. Her father would be snoring loudly from the ale and cow steak he had most likely eaten in the celebration of her brothers leaving. The sounds in Colreed were from a dream, that was the only way she could describe them. Each day was different. The soft cries of singing birds awakening from their short sleep. The chickens and roosters beginning their daily chatter. Depending on the season, there would be the smell of wet grass or the dry smell of ice and snow. Lena longed for home, her real home. She longed for Marren as well, the Marren that was in her bed not two nights ago. The one who kissed her forehead and held her close. Lena lost herself in a daydream of the day before. When Marren grabbed her wrist tightly and looked at her so accusingly. He'd always been tense with her, but this was the first time she truly feared him. She did not mean for her brothers to keep him there, she did not know that was their plan. However, I did tell them to keep him safe. She remembers telling Baret and Neal that Marren needed to be kept safe. They had teased her slightly but still promised their word that her husband would be safe from harm. She had no idea Tarryn meant to keep him on the island. No matter how upset Marren would be, Lena would never regret the decision. Marren was safe, he was alive, he could still be hers. A sound broke through her thoughts and sent a shivering drip of sweat down her spine. It was nothing but a wave crashing hard against the sea rocks yet it brought her attention towards the sea. That was when she saw what she thought was merely another day dream. Her imagination playing a cruel trick. The city still slept but they would soon be awoken by something much worse than the heat of the sun. The English ship was right at their dock. Lena pulled her door open quickly, she ran down from the steps and through the streets of Silver Port, people were walking and yawning without worry from their doorsteps.
