Elena: Highlanders of Silver Island

by Diana Knight

  A moment of pause and she lanced herself out of the way falling to the ground. Lord Grayhan turned himself around on the horse and jumped from his saddle, his sword unsheathed as he walked towards her. Lena picked up her body to run, but her body no longer wanted to move. She crawled with her arms away from him as he walked closer.

  “You are running away from battle? A battle you started? All those people dying right now, because your Lord wanted glory over love. He could have just had you, but instead he casted you aside so you could watch the rest of your village die.” Lord Grayhan slithered the words from his lips like a venomous snake. She was just waiting for him to bite.

  It’s not true. He chose love. He chose me and the battle. It did not matter if he chose battle over her, he was selfless. He was courageous. He loved her.

  “I’ve known Lord Marren my lady, I know of his family. Rollen is his own blood and he killed him. You honestly think he would not do the same for you if it meant glory and victory? Or revenge? We killed his village much like this one. Slaughtered it down because of the sick blood in your veins. Love is foolish, I can do you an serving and kill you before it harms you further.” Lord Grayhan’s words continued to burn into her mind.

  They are all lies. She knew it. It would take more than poisonous words to convince her of it. Yet out of every lie there is always truth, that is what makes them so tempting to believe. Perhaps if Marren had been how he once was he would have chosen glory over love. Perhaps the temptation of revenge was something he could not deny.

  “I’ve found your mother and sister too. I’ll keep them alive long enough to tell them you will meet them in the afterlife.” Lord Grayhan stepped closer to her.

  Lena was tired of running, tired of crawling and pulling herself away. She turned and laid up on her back, showing Lord Grayhan she was giving up once and for all. It was what he wanted anyways, it was what he was asking for. It would be a quicker death if she gave up to him, he would kill her softer. When she turned her back towards him and looked up to the sky, she avoided his eyes completely. He did not get the satisfaction of seeing surrender in her eyes. The clouds were parting above her, by late afternoon there would be sunlight across the island. Silver Port would still be safe, while the rest of the island would finally have peace. The sound of Lord Grayhan’s sword falling into its sheath made a her lips curve up into a smile.

  “I would not smile if I were you, a slit throat will still be riddled with pain. It will just be faster with a sharper blade.” Lord Grayhan mumbled to her.

  He knelt down beside her, she could see the sweat dripping at the end of his hair and shining down his neck. The chainmail must have been heavy, the wool colors of the Englishmen had to be warm. The only bare skin he showed was from the neck up, he was covered elsewhere with armor and weight. The high-pitched flick of a small knife he brandished in his hand. He leaned across her with the blade, she felt his breath cool her forehead. He was so close.

  “You’ll see your father soon.” He brought the blade towards her.

  The one second she had, she used wisely. For what Lord Grayhan did not know was Lena did not come unarmed. Before the weight of the blade could pierce her skin she sent her own dagger into the side of Lord Grayhan’s neck. Her weight and force behind the swing sent the knife directly through the center, it’s blade fully hidden inside his neck now. The one use Rollen had to her after death was providing her a chance to seek revenge. When she had knelt over Rollen’s body it was not a goodbye she was looking for, but a way to defend herself. She sat up as Lord Grayhan froze still and tried to gasp for air.

  “Not if you see him first. I hope my father welcomes you with fire and swords.” Lena let go of the dagger and pushed Lord Grayhan to the ground. His body shaking and convulsing as she turned her back.

  He was a fool to think she would fall to his words. A fool to think she would just suddenly give up after fighting so hard. That was what the Englishmen did not understand about Scottish blood. What they thought was a sickness, was truly a strength. That no matter what war, death, or loss they may find, they will come out stronger. The energy she felt was beginning to wear down, her heart was racing faster than it ever had before. On the top of the hill she looked across the other side, her body was starting to tremble at the thought of walking further. The sound of Lord Grayhan fell silent and a calm feeling cascaded over her. She looked for her mother and sister from the top of the hill, but could only hope they had found their way home. With no one chasing them now they should find their way back to Silver Port. As she scanned the top of the hill she saw something else instead of her mother or sister. Dust, and it was kicking up in a loud trialing gust behind it. People were coming and they were coming towards her.

  Marren let the sword of the Englishman fall as he pulled his blade from him. His men were rallying, the war would be over before midday. The flames of the burning homes and dead sent a rancid smell into the air. A few of the men were gathering the buckets and using the well water to vanquish the fire like their foe. Marren counted the colors of English to kinsmen, he let out a breath of relief. He turned over to look back at the hillside to Silver Port, his lips still hummed with the feeling her lips on his. He looked as far as he could to see any sign of her. He saw nothing.

  “My Lord. You need to see this.” One of his kinsmen called for him.

  Marren turned to see a young man with red stains across his chest, none of it his. He wore a leather helmet he had most likely taken from the English, but his colors were Walsh and his chest was proudly pronouncing his pride. The walked to the edge of the city, the opposite direction he wished he could go. The edge of the island was a mere few hundred paces away, but nothing but cliff and rocks were there to greet them. Marren saw the ropes tied to the scarce trees around them, it was clear to see this was the way Rollen had snuck them onto the island. Their boat was most likely anchored here hidden for a day or so, and they only had to hide in waiting under the cover of the cliffs before climbing up when the time was ready. Yet that was not what concerned Marren the most, it was out in the distance that concerned him. The fog was clearing as the daylight was breaking through. The ship was still coming, it’s English painted cross flapped in the wind and it sent a stabbing throb into his stomach.

  “What should we do?” His clansmen asked.

  “Don’t put out the fire. Let it smoke. Bring them closer.” Marren said, a plan spinning in his mind.

  The confused silence of the man did not go unnoticed, but he did as Marren said. He gave a soft bow and turned, walking towards Colreed again. Marren stared off at the ship, the taste of copper in his mouth from biting his cheek as he swung a sword. His hands were still steady, his legs were still awake. He could fight them, they could fight them. Yes, they would lose more men but the war would be that much closer to over. They would not have to worry about the English men returning. Marren bit the edge of his lip. The fighting is over. Marren reminded himself. They were safe now, what good would bringing the English onto the island do for them now. After a few moments, some of the clansmen could be heard walking towards him. He knew their questions would be at the tips of their tongue.

  “My Lord. I don’t mean to be disrespectin’ but we just fought em’ why are we gonna bring on the island again.” One of the older men said, he tried to hide his exhausted as he spoke.

  “We are not bringing them on the island. We are bringing them close to the island, they need to think the English are still here.” Marren said turning to his men with a small grin.

  “Why we wantin’ them close?” Another asked.

  “So our arrows will hit them. Bring fire and arrows. They will not step a foot on our island.” Marren said to them.

  The plan was engraved in them now, they cawed in agreement and ran back towards Colreed to prepare. Marren turned and watched the ship continue coming closer, as he saw his men already coming back he began walking back towards the village.

  “You don’t want to watch it burn?”
The elder clansmen asked him surprised.

  “No. I don’t need to see any more death.” Marren said and walked away.

  His mind could not think of revenge now, with the English taken care of there was no more worry for them. Now he needed Lena. He needed to see her and hold her. The only thing that brought him joy now was the thought of finally being able to tell her she is safe. Safe from harm, and nothing can hurt her now. He walked back listening to the sound of his feet his the ground, he saw the sheep still scattered around, the broken villagers standing on the outside mending and healing the wounded. There were clansmen taking the dead and putting them side by side while others were already finding rocks to give them a peaceful resting place. Marren saw the horse in the distance, it was limping towards Colreed. It was the color of dark hazelnuts that had just fallen from their branch. He could see it was disoriented and fragile, Marren walk towards it to guide it home. When he reached the horse he saw the dried blood across its back, he remembered seeing the same pattern across Rollen’s horse when he killed him. It was Rollen’s horse, and now it would need a new rider. He bit his lip at he remembered the sound of his sword killing his own clansmen, that would be something he would never be able to forget. Yet with Lena she would mend his mind and wounds. With her cooling words and warm touch, she could bring him out of the dark nightmares he will have beside her as they sleep. Lena. He remembered the horse now. He remembered who the last was to ride it.

  “Where is she?” He gripped the horses neck with both hands and tried to beg it for an answer.

  It was in vain, he knew it would give no answers. He traced back to the direction she went, the panic he had dreaded and kept pressed inside him so long was beginning to emerge. He scanned the hillside, he looked for some sort of solace. Some sign that there was a reason she released the horse and was no longer clinging to its back.

  “Lena!” He shouted. He felt the sting in his dry throat.

  “Lena!” He screamed again and began running towards the direction the horse returned from.

  “Marren!”

  His mind froze but his feet continued, making him stumble to the ground. He listened in silence for a moment, yet the voice was gone. His mind must have wanted it so badly he had imagined her calling his name.

  “Marren!”

  This was not in his mind. He stood himself up to see her standing there on the hill. Her hair wrapped around her shoulder and the ends swaying in the wind. Yet she was not alone. The horses stood around her, the men on their backs carrying swords and shields. Their bare chests and clans colored kilts wrapped around them. Lester. Father. Uncles. Lena. Marren ran his way towards them. Lena took off on foot running towards him as well. The rest of the men walked on their horses leading towards Colreed. Marren saw her coming closer to him, her body almost his for the taking. His arms extended he felt her slam into his chest with her body, her arms suffocate his neck as he breathed in her hair. They collapsed the ground together, Marren could not unclasp his hands from around her.

  “I thought I lost you.” Marren whispered as she dug her head into the nape of his neck.

  “Never.” Lena whispered to him as they tightened their grip on each other.

  Lester and the rest of them arrived around them, they circled them and stopped.

  “We found her on the top of the hill. I’ll sleep well tonight knowing Lord Grayhan won’t be in my dreams anymore.” Lester said.

  Marren pulled her face from his neck and looked at her and back at Lester, then back at her. He did not need to ask her to know the answer. He just placed her back around him and clung tightly to her thick red hair. He would never let her go again.

  18

  Chapter Eighteen

  The rain was appropriate for the day. They took turns placing rocks across her father. Each of her brothers placed the largest boulders and said their goodbyes. Colreed would take years to rebuild, but with her brothers finally home they could begin together. The people were silent as they all stood beside the rock graves. Each soul that was lost now laid in a cirlcle of stone that surrounded the village. A marker of what was lost, but a reminder at what still survived. Lena felt the warmness in her stomach as she felt Marren place his arm against her back while he walked past her. He had not slept in days. His eyes were tired and his body was bruised but he continued to walk on and comfort the people still suffering from the loss of their loved ones. Lena knew she was lucky, her large family had given her more risk to lose, some lost everything. Lena followed carefully behind Marren as they gave their condolences, each person thanking them for saving their life. When they finally reached the end she saw Marren lose his footing and stutter a step forward. She caught him before anyone could see him stumble. She placed his arm over her shoulder and they walked side by side into one of the homes still standing. His face was dirty, his lips were cracked and dry. They had barely spoken as they were too busy helping those around them. Now however, they had time. Time to try and return to the way things used to be. The two of them, the days where they would spend the mornings in bed talking about the daily plans, the thin smile she would get from Marren as he saw her holding Jorge and hugging Mulla. The way he would eat the fresh food she had brought home before she even had a chance to cook it. Those days would return, someday. When they reached the inside of the hut she placed him on the bed, it was just next to the fireplace and she began stoking the coals. She heard him fumble to get up and help her but she turned quickly.

  “Stay still. You need to rest.” Lena told him and softly pushed him back on the bed, he fell to her will with a slump.

  “Do not move. Rest your eyes.” She told him and kissed the top of his head.

  Marren simply nodded and gave her a half smile. With that she took it as obedience and walked out of the hut to fill a bucket with water. When she returned she saw his eyes had still not opened. She put the bucket in the small iron pot above the fire and waited. It was silent but for the slight raspy breathing of Marren sleeping. After the water was warm she grabbed a rag and wrung it out before she placed it on his forehead. He jumped up with eyes open and Marren grabbed her arm.

  “It’s only me.” Lena smiled, although it had frightened her for a moment.

  Marren released his hold on her and let his hand fall on her lap while Lena continued to wash him. From forehead to cheek, she took off the gathered dust and sweat. She washed his neck, and down his chest. She removed the sash of clan colors from him and pulled the wool socks from his feet. He stayed there quietly and rested until she had reached his toes. By then she did not even know he was awake, and staring right at her.

  “You will make a great mother.” Marren said. His eyes sparkled like he was child himself.

  “Someday.” Lena smiled at him.

  “Come here. Come sleep.” He pulled her arm and brought him against her chest. She rested her face against his skin and closed her eyes.

  She let him hold her tightly as they fell asleep to the soft sound of crackling firewood and dancing flames.

  Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. Soon the spring was already over and the start of summer would be beginning again. The seasons changed while trees were cut and homes were made. Winter frosted over the blood that had seeped into the soil and hardened the ground where it was once black and burnt. Colreed was alive again, but the reminder of their losses still stacked in stones outside the village. Lena sat in her home now still in Silver Port. She had just finished the final touches on the long red hair before her.

  “All done.” She whispered.

  Her sister turned around. Maria looked just as beautiful as always. Their mother would be arriving soon to celebrate the start of summer. Not only that but her eldest living brother Terryn would be married today. The war on the mainland brought many clansfolk to the island for refuge. With William Wallace continuing to battle the English back the scots needed a place to hide their women and children. One of those women happened to be Bryn, a girl around Lena’s age who he
had met on the mainland after they liberated her city from the English. Her family followed them back after the last battle, and they had no intentions of leaving. Silver Port had been more alive than it ever had been and today would be one of the grandest celebrations. There would be dancing, laughter, love, and of course the last mulled wine of summer.

  “Are you going to be alright if you go?” Maria asked her.

  “Of course.” Lena smiled and lifted herself from the chair.

  “Do you think Terryn will go back again? After he is married?” Maria asked.

  Lena didn’t know how to answer that. He was much like Marren in that regard. He had honor and pride in his men, and if he was asked to go he would.

  “Maybe he will stay.” Lena said kissing her on the top of her head.

  “Like Marren?” Maria smiled.