by Barbara Bard
“Ye dae.”
“He is a Sassenach knight.”
“And?”
“And we ken full well our attitude toward men like him.”
“He looked sweet. He didnae appear tae possess the usual despicable qualities associated with a knight. Perhaps—”
“Perhaps nothing. I am tae busy tae be preoccupied with such frivolous thoughts.”
Ava sighed. “Oh, Gavina. Ye are human. It is only natural tae find attraction in the opposite sex. I myself will never settle down…” she leaned in, “but it does nae mean that I dinnae find the time to indulge in the mair…carnal satisfactions that life offers.”
Gavina laughed. “Ye are despicable.”
“I am a woman. And if ye had ever had the moment tae lay with a man—ye would understand.” Ava then hid a smirk and knew, based on the way Gavina flexed her brow, that she was getting a rise out of her.
“Who says I haven’ae?” Gavina said.
Ava leaned in. “Hae ye?”
“That is none of yer business…”
Ava sighed. “Oh, ye make me thrawn, Gavina. Such secrets with ye.”
“There are naw secrets tae be had—I just dinnae wish tae share the tale of me former lovers with ye?”
Ava was intrigued. “Lovers? As in mair than one?”
Gavina shrugged. “Perhaps…”
Silence held sway as the two women exchanged playful glances. “Ye will nae tell me at least one of them?”
Gavina said nothing as she bucked her horse. “Naw,” she said. “I dinnae believe that Glenn O’Reilly would much appreciate it…” she then rode ahead, cutting off the conversation and leaving Ava in stitches of laughter.
“There’s a girl,” Ava said playfully as the Bairdsmen then began to increase the speed of their riding.
Three hours later, darkness had fallen. Gavina, knowing the terrain better than that of the back of her hand, spotted a secluded part of the Highlands with a cave that could serve as a shelter three hundred yards away. “There,” she said. “We will rest here until the morra.”
The Bairdsmen arrived at the cave and set up camp as Gavina looked around the area for any signs of trouble—there was none.
“Gavina,” Lachlan said as he dismounted his horse. “Should one of us take a patrol?”
Gavina nodded. “Aye. But dinnae gae far. I dinnae want us tae become split up.”
“Aye,” he said as he remounted his horse and began tae ride. “I will return shortly.”
“Glenn,” Gavina said.
“Aye?” he replied.
“Start a fire. Make sure ye keep it inside of the cave. Naw attention maist be attracted.”
“Aye, Gavina.”
Thirty minutes later, after scouting out the surrounding area and kindling a fire, the Bairdsmen were gathered in a huddle as Lachlan set about heating the spiced meats Isla had packed in Gavina’s satchel. After a few moments, Tessa then asked the obvious—“What is the plan, Gavina?” she said as she set about restringing her bow.
“It is simple,” Gavina said. “We will arrive at this village in two day’s time.”
“The meeting,” Glenn said, “stated that only ye and Finlay were supposed tae attend.”
“Aye. But that has obviously changed.” She gestured to Lachlan. “Lachlan will gae with me. Him and I will sit with Lord Torstein, Sir Jessup, and the knight Christian to discuss the terms of peace.”
“And the rest of us?” Ava inquired.
Gavina looked at her. “Ye three will remain indoors,” she said, “close by. According to Isla, there is a room that looks directly into the tavern across the way. Lachlan and I will be seated close tae the window so that ye will be given a full view of the conversation. Should a problem arise—I will hold up two fingers tae indicate that your interference is required.” She then demonstrated the signal by holding up two fingers, the Bairdsmen nodded in acknowledgement and replying with “Aye” before being handed strips of meat to consume by Lachlan.
“Might I raise a practical question?” Tessa said as she ate.
Gavina nodded.
“Why would the Sassenach ever bother with making a peace with us? They hae fought fer years tae dispel us from these lands.”
Gavina took her time answering. “The same questions troubles me so as well…but we maist take a leap of faith. Lord Torstein, though he is a Sassenach lord, has served us well in maintaining our anonymity fer all these years. This moment was always going tae arrive, when we would hae tae make a final stand fer our peace.”
“I sense something wrong with this arrangement,” Glenn said. “I dinane trust it.”
“Neither do I,” Gavina said, “which is why each and every one of ye is here with me to destroy every one of those Sassenach bastards should they try tae dae anything.”
Nods. Grunts of confirmation.
“I am nae saying tae nae be scared,” Gavina continued. “Such a prospect is foolish. We hae all felt fear, but it is how we respond tae that fear that shall make the difference in our plight. I ken all of ye, I trust all of ye, and I ken that if anything should happen—we will arise the victor. I will not accept any less from the lot of ye.”
The warriors smiled, each one of them feeling a sense of hope and confidence in their abilities. They then set about conversing about other matters, mostly of combat techniques, as Gavina finished her meal and then moved to the edge of the cave. She smiled, mostly at herself, the words that she had given to her warriors feeling nothing short of inspired from Finlay and Isla. She knew the road ahead would be a cumbersome one, and she rested the palm of her hand on the hilt of her knife and squeezed with the hopes that it would all go well.
Chapter 7
Around the time that Gavina and the Bairdsmen were eating, Lord Torstein, riding with Sir Jessup and Christian at his side, set up camp in an area about twenty miles from where Gavina and the Bairdsmen were posted up. After a fire was kindled and the horses were tacked to a post, Christian looked out at the horizon as the sun set and pondered how far Gavina might have been from their location—and he wondered if she was thinking of him as he was thinking of her.
“Something weighs on your man’s mind, Lord Torstein,” Sir Jessup said, a bottle of wine in his hand as he sat near the fire.
Lord Torstein said nothing to Sir Jessup as he approached Christian, his arms crossed as he felt his knees crack from the stress that came with years of battle coupled with the fact that he was growing older and wearier. “Are you troubled?” he asked Christian, his voice lowered to a hush so that Sir Jessup would not hear.
Christian nodded. “Something troubles me,” he said. “I just cannot seem to place a finger on what that might be.”
Lord Torstein noted the longing quality in Christian’s stare and smiled. “It is a woman,” he said.
Christian quickly leveled his gaze at his lord. “What? No, that is not it.”
“Oh, please, Christian. I have been around this earth long enough to know when a man is dwelling on thoughts of a woman…” he waited, staring at Christian and hoping that his intense gaze would get him to confess.
Christian noted the look in his lord’s eye and shrugged. “It is merely an infatuation,” he said. “Merely a fixation on beauty. It shall pass, my lord.”
Lord Torstein. “Well, well,” he said. “Now we are getting to the root of the matter. What is her name?”
Christian took a moment and debated if he should tell Lord Torstein what he was thinking. He lowered his voice and said: “I fear it is not wise to mention her name. I worry that it will confuse things.”
“Tell me, Christian. I will not judge whatever words come out of your mouth.”
Christian sighed and took another beat. “It is Gavina,” he whispered. “The woman warrior of the Baird clan.”
“Ah. I see.”
“I told you it was wrong.”
Lord Torstein held up his hand. “As I said—I am not passing judgment. And I have heard much about he
r already. She is a fine young woman. I can understand, in an objective manner, why you are dwelling on thoughts of her.”
“It is foolish, my lord. I know that. Nothing more than mere infatuation.”
Lord Torstein stood directly next to Christian and stared out as the sun made its final ascent. “Tell me,” he said. “Have you been in love before?”
The past began to creep up on Christian. “Yes…Yes. Once before.”
“And what happened?”
Christian shrugged. “She married another man.”
Lord Torstein hung his head, well-versed in heartache that was a rite of passage for all humans. “A heartbreaking day that must have been.”
“Yes, my lord. I did not think I would recover from it.” He began to dwell, the history of it all playing back in his mind. “That time in my life still confuses me. She said she loved me. She promised that we would live a life together, yet it never happened.” He shook his head and huffed. “I do not understand the mind of a woman, my lord. I was a fool to ever think I was capable.”
Lord Torstein waved him off. “You are not a fool, my boy. We have all made that same mistake. I was in the position you were in once before.”
“Really?”
A nod. “Yes. With my wife, of all people. She did not wish to wed me when I had proposed the question. She said…” he smiled, “she said that I was not fit to be a husband.”
Christian was incredulous. “I find that hard to believe, my lord. A man such as yourself? You are one of the most level-headed and competent leaders I have ever met in my life.”
“Once upon I time, I was not—I was brash, arrogant, foolish. My wife knew that, and she knew that leaving me was the only way I would ever be able to shake myself out of that juvenile state to become the man I am today.”
Christian smiled and found hope in Lord Torstein’s words. “Where is she now? Your wife?”
Lord Torstein hung his head. “She passed, sadly. Illness.”
Christian felt guilty for bringing it up. “I am truly sorry, my lord.”
Lord Torstein smiled. “It was a long time ago. Yes, the pain still weighs heavy in my heart. But she left me with two children that fulfill her legacy better than I could have ever imagined.”
“Where are they now?”
“Back home. Learning. Schooling. I do not ever want them to set foot in this place. My wife made me promise that neither of them would follow in my stead.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”
Lord Torstein tilted up his head and thought about it. “Two years,” he said. “And I hope the time comes soon that I will see them again.”
A laugh came from Sir Jessup’s direction. Christian and Lord Torstein turned and leveled their attentions at him.
“Is there something humorous in what we are saying, Sir Jessup?” Lord Torstein inquired.
Sir Jessup, sipping from the bottle and keeping his drunken state somewhat conservative, nodded. “All of what you say,” he said. “About life and love. You sound like a pair of women, as far as I can tell.”
Lord Torstein approached. “That is the drink in your hand talking.”
Sir Jessup shook his head. “It is experience talking, my lord. I, like you, have been around long enough to know that love is but a fleeting concept. It is nothing more than a word.”
“I take it you have never been in love.”
Sir Jessup gritted his teeth, raised the bottle to his lips, and swigged. “No.”
Lord Torstein nodded and sat at the fire, Christian joining him moments later. “You know,” he said, “there is so little about you that I know, Sir Jessup.”
“Splendid,” Sir Jessup said. “Perhaps we should keep it that way.”
“Oh, come now,” Lord Torstein said, holding out his hand a requesting a pull from the bottle, doing it for sake of trying to lower Sir Jessup’s guard. “We all know that you are one of, if not the most feared warrior at the king’s disposal.”
Sir Jessup shrugged. “I will not deny that this is true,” he said as he passed over the wine.
“But what you will not acknowledge is that you, like as all, are privy to human nature.”
Sir Jessup sighed. “I, unlike you two fools, do not indulge in such frivolous fantasies.”
“Frivolous fantasies?”
Sir Jessup took back the bottle and sat up. “Do you two really believe that love is an actual emotion?”
“How can you deny it?”
“Because I have seen many men suffer and wilt away over a word that means nothing. Love is a word that was conjured by fools to give reason to an irrational mind.” He gestured around. “Look around you. Look at this very campaign we are embarking on. Life is nothing more than destruction and struggle. People fight to deny the fact that we live a fleeting life, and we create words like love to instill us with a sense of false hope so that we do not recognize the terrible nature of the existence we live in. It is merely an attempt to stave us off from giving into our more violent natures.”
Lord Torstein sighed. “I would not care to live if I thought such a notion was true.”
Sir Jessup pointed. “Which is why you can safely classify yourself as one of the fools that I make mention of.”
Christian looked at Lord Torstein with an inquisitive gaze, trying to fathom why an English lord would allow a man beneath him to say such things.
“Though, I think you are wrong,” Lord Torstein said, “I commend you for being as honest as you are.”
Sir Jessup waved him off. “Your compliments mean nothing to me, Lord Torstein. We are not friends. We are merely associating.”
Lord Torstein took a long moment and stared at Sir Jessup like he was pricing a horse. He nodded, smiled, and did something reminiscent of laughing.
Sir Jessup rolled his eyes. “Something is humorous to you, Lord Torstein?”
“Slightly,” Lord Torstein said.
“Well, perhaps you mind telling me what that is.”
Lord Torstein allowed a few moments to pass. “There is a look in your eyes, Sir Jessup. It is one that I have seen before.”
“It is called rage, Lord Torstein.”
“It is called longing.”
Sir Jessup squinted. “What are you getting at?”
“You can deny all the things we speak of right now—about life, love, what have you. You can deny the nature of life all you want and pretend that you approach things with a rational and critical mindset. But I know the truth.”
Sir Jessup leaned in and smirked. “Oh really? And what might that be?”
“That you, like us, have loved and lost before—and this is merely your attempts and trying to deny that you, like us, are still reeling over someone who was lost.”
Sir Jessup jutted his jaw. The veins in his neck bulged. His pale skin took on a reddish quality in the glow of the fire. He opened his mouth to offer a retort, but instead he stood, tossed down the bottle of wine and said: “I am going to scout the surroundings to make sure we are not being followed. You two fools continue to sit here and indulge in your fantasies.”
With that, Sir Jessup mounted his horse, kicked at its sides, and rode off from the camp. Lord Torstein and Christian watched as he rode off before Lord Torstein turned to Christian and said: “See? We are all one and the same—even a bastard as cold-hearted as him.”
Christian said nothing as he watched Sir Jessup ride. He could tell solely on how Sir Jessup galloped away that the man was hiding some kind of pain that he did not wish to divulge.
Twenty minutes into his ride, and still reeling from his conversation with Lord Torstein, Sir Jessup rode toward a spot where Sir Renly and four other knights were hiding. They sat in silence, all of them standing at attention as soon as Sir Jessup arrived.
“Sir Jessup,” Lord Renly said as he stood. “Is all well?”
Sir Jessup dismounted and didn’t answer. “We arrive at the village tomorrow,” he said. “I will head out with Lord Torst
ein early in the morning. Make sure to keep a safe distance so they do not become suspicious.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Sir Jessup, still fuming, paced in a circle. “I have changed my mind,” he said. “I do not wish to kill Lord Torstein once we take the members of the Baird clan into our possession.”
“What do you wish to do with him?”
Sir Jessup rubbed the stubble on his face and said, “I want to make him suffer for all that he has brought upon us. He has made a fool of us to the king, and I wish to make a fool of him in return. I will give you the signal we designated when I am ready to take the Baird’s. When we do—I will cut the boy Christian’s throat in front of him and allow him to bleed out on Lord Torstein’s boots.”
