by Diana Knight
Marren could smell the English already. The evening was riding down on them as they continued on. The first of the stars were peaking out already, and they still had a long way to go. His horse whined from exhaustion and he pulled the reigns to give it release.
“We stop here for the night. Rollen, take a man to scout the area. You two, get a fire started. I am going to check the men.” Marren said. As he spoke Rollen only rolled his eyes.
“I checked em myself Lord. They all men. She didn’t come with us.” Rollen teased. With a snap of his fingers he pointed to another soldier and they rode off to make a circle around them.
She never promised to stay. Marren began biting his lip as he walked around the hundred and fifty men he’d brought. The ones in the back were covered in soft layer of dust, their eyes looking tired but dedicated. These are my men. Lena is not one of them. Marren tried to shake the suspicion from his mind. A few men he passed wore looks across their faces that sent shivers down his skin. They were afraid, they all knew what the English had done. They knew what the English were doing now, and what they were going to look forward to should they lose. Marren walked to the edge of the camp, without a sight of his wife he started to relax. She would not come. He tried to convince himself to no avail, yet he knew her. If there was a test of strength between them, Marren knew he would win. However, should the test be for willpower and family honor, she would surpass him three folds. She would do anything for her family, so to him it was more of a surprise that he did not find her. He stood at the edge of camp and looked at the road they had just traveled. He wondered if he would ever see this road again, if Lena would cry for him if he died. If his father and Lena’s brothers would come back to the island with nothing but ash and dust in their sights. Marren knew he could not let that happen, and to keep that from happening he would need to make sure Lena was safe in the city.
“You, boy.” Marren shouted towards a young man, he was no older than twelve. Marren felt sick to see he was carrying the wool and string on his back. One of the clansmen sons no doubt. The young men are always there to help bind wounds and stop bleedings. This boy had no idea what he was going to go through.
“Yes. Yes my Lord.” The boy nodded his head, his eyes facing the ground.
“Has anyone come through since camp? Have you seen any spare horses or men hiding their faces?” Marren asked, though he could see from the discreteness of his questions the boy was suspicious.
“Umm.. No my Lord I don’t think so. Ain’t no one.” He responded as he shuffled with the pack on his back.
“You keep an eye out for me ok? Should anyone new come join us. They have to see me first. Aye?” Marren said placing a firm grip on the boys shoulder. His eyes widen at the responsibility.
“Aye. Of course.” He said and for the first time he smiled, showing his unevenly large teeth showing how young he truly was.
He has not even grown into them yet. Marren swallowed hard, and could only hope that someday the boy would. Marren left the boy there and began walking his way back to his horse. Rollen would be continuing the small scouting circle and be back with the news. A hint of regret flushed through his mind at the thought of Lester back in Silver Port. It was not that he did not trust him with Lena. Marren knew Lena could care for herself, and that Mulla and the other women would keep Lena safe. It was that Lester’s mind was still lost. The day they killed his family, Lester changed. The English beat him down the worst, and still Lester never faltered. He just needed a bit longer to prepare before facing the English again. Marren needed levelheaded people around him when they went to Colreed, and he did not think Lester would be just that. The sun was practically set by the time Rollen and his scouting partner could be seen. They were galloping quickly, too quickly for a routine scout. Marren felt his feet freeze the ground, his knees were shaking and the air caught in his throat. What did they see. Even though in truth it was a mere few minutes, waiting to hear the news felt like a lifetime. He saw them slowly move towards him from small dots in his vision until he felt the wind of the horse brush against him.
“We found something.” Rollen said jumping from his horse.
“A small path just off the road. A smugglers path no doubt, there are fresh tracks. One set of tracks. It could be an English scout heading back to warn them. We should leave now.” Rollen began flustering with his sword and shield. Meanwhile Marren still stood there frozen.
“An Englishman would not know of a smugglers path.” Marren muttered out in thought, though the words carried around him. Rollen dropped his gear and looked at him.
“You don’t think she would disobey your order?” Rollen asked.
“Aye, she is a Macleod.” Another clansman said.
“She goin’ to ruin everything. The English will kill her and have time to prepare!” Another one shouted.
They were all looking at Marren, waiting for him to say something. Yet no words had come from his mouth yet. Inside him felt as if he was a kettle over a fire. His blood was boiling and his face was flushed. Too many loose ends, too many chances. The men began raising their voices.
“We have to stop her!” One shouted. “Where’s the fastest horse?” Another asked.
He was losing the concentration of his men. They would untie and collapse like the wool tethers on the back of Lena’s dress. He thought about the softness of her skin, the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair.
“I’ll go get her.” Marren said in a whisper, none of the men could hear.
“I will go!” Marren shouted and now it was silent as death around them.
“The men are far too exhausted. We need strong men and strong horses. I will take my horse, and I will go alone. No one is to follow, and no one is to leave. I will bring her back.” Marren said and waiting until the men nodded before he continued.
“Rollen, you are now their commander. Should I not return, take them to war…” Marren turned to face his clansmen.
“Tomorrow we will have English at our feet. Tomorrow we will have freedom in our hearts. Tomorrow we die, but we welcome it!” Marren said. The one thing that brought the men back together was a chant of dying like men. It worked. The men rallied around him and Rollen, they were shouting chants and old war folksongs as they scattered back into the camp.
Marren felt a sigh of relief but it was quickly stiffened by the firm grip on his shoulder. He turned to see Rollen staring at him. His eyes cold and worrisome. Rollen had been spared the hardships of the English, he had been lucky to only receive a lashing here and there. He was a follower, but now it was time for him to be a leader.
“I will do my best.” Rollen said.
Marren pinched his lips and placed his hand on Rollen’s shoulder as well. He tightened his grip and started at him in the eyes. They stayed silent as they said their goodbyes. There was never anything to say when it came to moments like this, everything was already known.
“I know.” Marren finally spoke as he let his grip go and turned to find his horse.
Rollen could be heard gathering the men and taking the lead. Maybe he can be a leader after all. Marren had a sudden comfort around him, as he mounted his horse there was nothing in his sights now but moonlight and shadows. The way the moon danced on the withering tree leaves tricked his eyes. Winter was going to be there before they knew it, in a month or so there would be a blanket of white to hide the bloodshed of tomorrow. A gust of wind snuck up behind him, causing him to suck in a deep breath as it touched him to the bone. Marren grabbed hold of the reigns and felt his knuckles begin to grow cold already. He never thought there would be danger like this. He imagined getting married and having children, he thought his wife would be like the rest and be afraid of war and fighting. Yet the wife he was given was running towards it, and she does not know what she is about to see. The death, the slaughter, the screaming, she is not ready for it. Please let her be safe. Please let me find her. With a release of breathe he tapped his legs on the side of his horse, and closed h
is eyes as he tried to remain calm. Then, I will see you. I will see you Lena.
13
Chapter Thirteen
The smoke was dark. Like spilled blood in the night sky, she could see it blocking the stars and moonlight over the small village That signified that whatever was on fire still had flames, only when the smoke turned white did it mean the fire was nothing but hot coal and ash. Her father had taught her that. She swallowed hard and dismounted her horse, she could only hope that her father would still be able to teach her something after this was over. The village was on the other side of the hill, but the dark smoke in the sky should have been her warning sign. Her body wanted to move except her feet stayed glued to the ground. I should stay here until it’s light. She bit at her lip trying to decide what to do. While the English slept in her villages beds they would not notice her. If I stay they could be killing them right now. If I stay more people will die. If I go, I might die. A shiver went through her and she blinked back the tears. She had never felt this feeling so strongly. The feeling of her heart pulling itself into her stomach while it twisted and turned like meat cooking over a fire spit. Her fingers were numb, she had endured colder times than this but she had never felt her body freeze like this. As if it was from the inside out. Her horse started pulling away, the bridle in her fingers slipped out and the horse walked silently over to a tree for protection. It was doing what Lena couldn’t, this should be the sign she was looking for. It was too dangerous to go there now, she should stay here. She should rest. While you sleep they will kill them. Her mind was against her tonight, the unknown was just over the hill. All she had to do was silently go over. Her feet started walking before she had a chance to change her mind. The horse was exhausted and would make too much noise. It was better to go on foot, it was quieter.
The ground had been dry from Autumn arriving but Lena could walk without snapping a single stick. Her brothers taught her that. Every thought reminded her of what she wanted back and what she would never take for granted again. The end of summer was here and soon the grass would be tan and brown while the trees would turn naked and cold. As she lifted herself over the last part of the hill she found herself surrounded by the last cover before Colreed. A small patch of woods that had trees that smelled of sweet and spice, the pine needles poked her as she walked through the thickness of it. That was when she saw it, the flames of the fire. Colreed had no fence, it had no walls of protection because it never needed them. When she found herself at the edge of the small tree line she could see the village clearly. If she was like Marren, she might have been able to throw a spear hard enough to hit the edge of hut. She was far enough to feel safe, but close enough to feel the fear inside the village. Her suspicion of the flames proved true as a hut burned and crackled in the center of the village. From where she stood she could not see anyone, the darkness of night and brightness of the fire kept her vision hazy.
“Keep the smoke high! We need it bright and hot so our men can see the smoke from the sea! I want them to be able to see it from the mainland! Bigger!” A voice shouted. It spoke like a song, its words sounded different to her. The English.
She unconsciously took a step back into the small brush of trees, but her foot slipped causing her to collapse onto the ground making the sticks snap wildly underneath her. The crackling of the fire was to strong, and luckily it drowned out the English from hearing.
“Shh down. You’ll get us killed.” Lena turned her head to see a dark figure hovering just behind the tree. With the reflection of the dim firelight, Lena could see it was a woman no older than her but her face was white with fear.
The woman was staring at Colreed, Lena thought that at any given moment the woman might run into the open space between them and Colreed, but the woman would be caught. She would be killed.
“I have to go get them.” The woman whispered, “I have to go get my babies.”
She slid down the side of the tree she hid behind, and Lena could finally see the woman in full form. Her hair was a dark brownish red. It was as long as hers but wildly cascading around her neck and face. Her lips were quivering and her eyes looked red and dry from emptying the tears from her eyes. She was twisting and pulling at the fabric of her dress, as if she was washing it with air and smoke.
“I have to go get them.” She whispered again. “I have to go get my babies.”
That was when Lena saw the woman’s hands untwist from her dress and the dark red stains of dry blood appeared. The sound of the English shouting echoed in her ears. Her body stiffened like a spear and her breath swept from her lungs. Lena reached out to grab her, to comfort her, to do something. The woman was ghostly pale and her eyes looked blank with fear. Just as she was about to touch her, the woman backed away and the sound of crackling sticks echoed behind them. Lena felt a scream curdle inside her throat as she looked in the thick brush for eyes or movement.
“We have to go now. I have to get my babies.” The sound of fire crackling grew louder, the English were talking and shouting as the woman eyed left towards Colreed and right towards the unknown movement in the woods. They were surrounded by something, and Lena realized what a foolish plan this was all along.
“Wait. You have to wait until daylight.” Lena tried to tell her, but the woman had already made up her mind.
“I have to get my babies.”
When the woman stood up Lena saw just how much red covered her dress, the blood had turned from her waist to the bottom hems a deep red color.
“Where are your children?” Lena tried to whisper, to reason with her.
The woman glanced down at her dress, and looked back at Lena. The moment happened in slow motion, as before Lena could even give her condolences the woman ran out into the open field.
“Brendan!” She cried and Lena reached her arm out to stop her.
A hard force drove her to the ground before she could even reach the bloody hem of the womans dress. The taste of dirt and pine suffocated her nose and the being on top of her wrapped its arms around her mouth. Lena felt the scream try and escape, but it was muffled by the tight hand of the person holding her. I am going to die. It was the first time she ever let herself think it, she’d been caught. The woman gave up her position as she whimpered and wined towards the village.
“We got another one!” An English man yelled as he loaded an arrow onto his bow.
Lena was far too distracted by the force holding her down, wondering why she had not been killed yet. Will it be quick? Will it hurt? She did not even get to say goodbye. She did not get to say goodbye to her mother, father, sister, brothers, Marren. Something ignited in her mind, the softness of the hand and the smell of ale.
“Stay still.” His voice was a sudden lift of weight from her. Her body fell limp as it untensed and released the fear that had been pent up inside it for so long. She was just about to turn to him when she heard the thud. Then another. Then another. The sound reminded her of when her foot would stomp in the mud after a rainy day. She saw the woman fall to the ground, as she turned the arrows protruded from her chest. After the thud was the screaming, the woman laid there on the ground screaming and crying loudly. Not a person could be sleeping now.
“Brendan! Baby! Please!! Please! No!” The woman continued to cry.
Lena turned to look at Marren, his welcoming eyes were furrowed and cross.
“Why would you come here. Let’s go.” Marren pulled her wrist towards the hill again.
Not without my family. Lena wanted to say but the words only surrendered in her mind, she followed him quietly deeper into the brush and back around the hill. As the last visible part of Colreed was seen through the bush she could see the English walking towards the screaming woman. Lena stopped for a moment and stared. The English were just standing over her body looking at her scream, she was begging for her child and staring at them in the eyes. Suddenly an English man drew his sword and slit her throat. As quickly as it could have been done. There was no screaming. There was no c
rying. There was nothing but the fire still burning.
They returned to her horse who was silently asleep on three legs while the other was slightly bent for protection. The grip Marren had on her hand was hard, when they were finally far enough away he pulled her close and squeezed her tighter.
“What were you thinking Lena! What were you thinking!” His voice was louder than it should have been, Lena ducked in reaction.
“Do you have any idea what would have happened? You would be dead Lena. Dead. You’ve never been to war. You don’t know what they can do, what they will do if they find you.” Marren was pacing back and forth while he scolded her, she did not say anything in response. She knew she deserved this.
“I left Rollen in charge, they’ll be arriving by morning. We will wait for them, and you will stay with the young men and provide aide if we need it. You will not step a foot into Colreed until all the English are dead.” Marren continued to pace, not looking at her but at the ground. As if he was angry at it for being so dry, that it was the dirt and grasses fault they were in that position.
“My family is there. I can’t live without them.” Lena croaked out.
“And I can’t live without you.” Marren stopped pacing and looked at her. He walked towards her then and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, she could feel him pull at her as tightly as he could.
“I can’t live if I don’t have you. I am not strong. I am not strong enough.” Marren whispered in her ear, the words were sweet on his lips but still riddled with truth and fear.
Lena rested her head against his chest. Her body wanted to collapse, her heart wanted to leap, and her mind wanted to wish all this was nothing but a bad dream. The only solace she had was knowing with Marren around her she could not come to harm. The thought of her parents being dead already was beginning to sink in, but for some reason the pain was not as strong as she was expecting. Perhaps it was because Marren was around her, which meant the minute he let go her world would fall. She clung tightly around him, her head pressing hard into his chest to hear it beating rapidly. What she would not give to be back in their home together. At this time of night they would be lying in bed with their feet barely touching. She would be listening to his soft breathing and steady pulse. His body would twitch ever so slightly while he dreamt of whatever his heart desired, and if he were to wake up in the middle of the night his arms would find her waist and pull her close. What she would not give to be there now, to have all this behind them and gone. If they are to make it out of this battle on the island, and her parents were truly gone forever. She needed him. All of that was clear now, she could not live without him. She never imagined what it would be like if he were to die, because she never thought it could happen. He was there on the island because she begged for it, and now she is about to pay for it. Lena felt her legs go weak from the rush of adrenaline beginning to fade. Marren’s arms were quick under her legs and she felt weightless as he carried her behind the tree where the horses slept. Lena felt the exhaustion flow over her, she felt the warmth of Marren and slowly drifted off to sleep.
