"He knew I hated him and wouldn't agree to marry him. So… he brought in his priest, whom he'd paid a great sum of money, no doubt. A priest who was completely loyal to him. When I refused to make any vows before the priest, Blackburn pulled out his dirk and grabbed my younger sister, Kristina. Being the powder keg that she is, she struggled against him. During the scuffle, he sliced her face. It bled terribly. He said if I wouldn't marry him, he would slit her throat next."
Neacal muttered a curse. The bastard was equal to MacRankin in his evil ruthlessness.
"Blackburn told the guard to hold the knife to Kristina's throat," Anna continued. "He ordered me to agree to the vows or Kristina would be dead. I had already lost my husband and my babe. I couldn't lose my sister, too, so I agreed. After the ceremony, Kristina called him a bastard. He shoved her against the wall, no doubt hoping to kill her. Her head hit the stone hard and she was knocked out."
"Damnation," Neacal breathed, unable to believe what a string of tragedies had befallen her, all from the same monster.
"Kristina's head injury was so severe, she went blind. I feared Blackburn would kill her when next he saw her, and mayhap me, too. So one night, while he was away for three days, we slipped off. I took my sister to my aunt, several miles south, in Stirling. When we learned that Blackburn was searching for me, I left Kristina there and headed out on my own to draw him away from her."
"What about the clan you were born into? Would they not help you?"
"The MacQueen clan." She shook her head. "The current chief and baron is a very distant cousin, more like a stranger to me, really. He wants naught more to do with Kristina or me. When my father passed, the new laird wanted us out. I was already betrothed to John at the time, so we moved up the wedding and I took Kristina with me."
"Saints! How could the man be so heartless? You're incredibly brave," Neacal whispered, his chest tightening with admiration for her.
Anna shrugged. "I traveled to Edinburgh and that was where I met the other minstrels. That was also where Anna Douglas was born. Before that, my name was Susanna MacQueen MacCromar.
He shook his head in amazement, so thankful she trusted him completely now. He wanted to hold her in his arms while she talked.
"We traveled south into the Borders and even into England," she said. "We went many places, never staying in one place too long, which suited my purposes perfectly. I slipped back to my aunt's twice to take Kristina some of the money I'd earned, but it wasn't much. 'Tis lucky my aunt cares for her."
"Saints," Neacal hissed. "You've suffered through a worse hell than I have."
"I know not. I suspect we have both seen our share of pain and torment."
"Aye."
Her eyes were still moist with tears but all he saw reflected back was tenacity. Strength. He held her in such high regard in that moment he wanted to crush her to him. Blackburn had stripped everything from her except life itself and yet she had a fierce determination to survive. She was such a wee thing. Where did her strength come from? She was a woman like none other he had ever met. A healing light shone within her, a divine light. He would've never suspected she had gone through such emotional agony. Somehow, she had healed. 'Haps it was her own singing that had healed her just as it had him.
"How do you do it? How do you go on?" he asked.
Her eyes searched his. "This life is not all there is, Neacal. 'Tis like one chapter of a book. We don't die and cease to exist. Our spirits live forever. We must learn to overcome our struggles here."
Neacal shook his head; she amazed him. "Instead of destroying you, this made you stronger."
"Aye. Just as the torture made you stronger."
Saints! 'Twas no wonder he wanted to marry her. She was incredibly wise. And he would have her as his wife. All he had to do was rid the world of Blackburn.
