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Twenty-five
The lone figure of a woman high on the battlements gazing out upon her land gave those at their posts reason to pause at the unusual yet beautiful sight. In days past, she would not have been found in such a precarious place without her armor and sword for the high parapet was narrow and dangerous.
Today, however, found her dressed in her second finest gown. ’Twas made of the finest linen colored in a soft pale shade of green and flowed with ease upon her frame. A blue, green, and red plaid bearing the MacLaren colors was held about her shoulders with a broach to ward off the chill from the ocean’s breeze. A golden chain holding the keys to the keep hung low on her hips, attractively complementing the garment. Golden bangles jingled upon her wrists and rings of the same design adorned her delicate fingers. Mayhap the most flattering asset the young woman had besides the beauty of her face was her hair. ’Twas left unbound in a riot of curls and flowed about her as if alive and just begging to be caressed by a lover.
Her gaze this day did not as usual look over its usual position of the ocean that she so loved, however. Nay, not today . . . today her view was captured inland towards the horizon where she could clearly see dust rising up as horses drew ever nearer. The portcullis and drawbridge had already been drawn up to prevent entry, in the event yet another enemy drew near.
Her deepest hope was that Dristan had returned, hence, her current attire. She had dressed to please him despite the nervous knots in the pit of her stomach. Uncertainty consumed her with doubt, thinking he may not be pleased with her gown. Despite their differences, she felt she and her family were safer when he dwelled within the castle walls. At least she had not had the misfortune to run into Hugh again. She was sure she would not be able to resist the urge to slip a dagger in between his ribs for the liberties he had dared, should they come face to face this day.
Her eyes lit up with a smile of delight when the riders drew close enough that she could at last see Dristan’s standard. She had not realized the depth of her heavy sigh of relief ’til she heard Killian tsk tsking as he came to stand beside her. From the look on his face, she assumed she would be hearing a reprimand from the man she considered an uncle.
“Ye shouldna look so eager tae see ’im,” he said quietly.
Amiria’s smile faded when she turned to meet his knowing glare. “Does it show so clearly then?” she asked, looking down the road again.
“Ye show yer feelings all tae well, lass, I’m afraid. Ye should take care, lest anyone figure it out, especially Ian. He willna like it,” he predicted as he smiled at her. His blue eyes twinkled as she met them.
“’Tis not easy,” she said quietly, looking around and hoping that none of the guards overheard their words.
“It never is, milady,” he said sadly.
“I canna help how I have come to care for him, Killian,” she remarked shyly.
“Yer father wouldna approve ye share his bed without so much o’ at least a simple ’and fasting. Nor do I, if’n that matters tae ye,” he grumbled.
“Lord Dristan does not seem the type who would honor such a Scottish tradition of hand fasting.” Embarrassed that all knew she had become no better than one of the castle whores, she began to wring her hands. “You are right that my father would not be pleased, nor my mother I suppose. All the time repenting on my knees in the chapel will not erase the mark and sin against my soul.”
Killian patted her shoulder. “God is forgivin’ child . . . ’twas not yer fault I’m sure.”
Amiria shook her head, knowing she could not pass a lie to the man next to her. “Mayhap my parents and God will forgive me if they watch over me from the heavens above,” she pondered and continued hopefully. “He has said he will take me to wife when I am well.”
“Ye seem fine tae me, Amiria, and from the looks o’ things, ye dress tae catch ’is eye.”
She shrugged off his comments but dismay again shook her confidence in her choice of dressing so obviously feminine. She placed her hands upon the gown as if to ensure the fabric was not creased. “He has been busy with training and seeing to the land and our people.”
“Aye, ’e ’as at that but thar’s still been plenty o’ time tae see the priest and wed thee. I feel ’tis me duty since yer da isna wid us to take ’is place to see ye properly settled,” he said with a fatherly tone.
Amiria smiled at his words and rested a hand on his folded arm whilst gazing up into his familiar face. “I give you my thanks for watching over us all these years. You knew my father better than anyone and were his most trusted friend and valued guardsman.” She stared into his kind blue eyes and stifled the urge to weep upon his broad shoulders. “You remind me so very much of him,” she sighed with a small catch in her voice from her loss.
“I couldna do anything less, child,” he replied with a note of regret.
“I suppose I must resign myself to the fact that Aiden has passed from this earth. I must needs pray his soul rests in peace and is not destined to roam the earth with unfinished business.”
Silence stretched on between them. They watched the drawbridge and portcullis being lowered to allow the returning men to enter the inner bailey. The procession was long and ’twas certain Dristan would bring up the rear. Amiria’s brow furrowed in concern by the events unfolding afore her gaze. Chaos turned the once silent courtyard into a hectic sea of bodies bumping into one another to aid those in need. Knights dismounted hastily, horses whinnied and nickered as they were being taken by eager stable lads, and voices rose in volume calling for aid from Kenna.
With a brief glance to one another, they quickly made their way to the tower stairs and upon reaching the Great Hall, moved with haste to see what help was needed. Amiria threw open the doors, stood on the stairs, and awaited one man in particular’s attention to turn in her direction.
Killian put his hand up in greeting to their liege that was quickly answered in kind. Amiria took the rest of the stairs, pulling up the hem of her dress as she ran towards the one whom she sought in earnest. As Dristan dismounted, she went to stand beside Thor and rested a hand upon his neck. She gave the briefest of smiles ’til Dristan finally met her gaze. He looked down at her grimly, but did not return the welcoming she had hoped for. He simply stood there, giving her the slightest of nods, afore he took his leave of her and entered the keep.
Amiria stared blankly at the ground in front of her, her brows together in thought. She turned her head, the wind catching her hair, and looked after him only to hear the slamming of the keep door. Confusion ran wild within her head ’til she realized there was more commotion in the bailey requiring her attention. Her men formed a half circle whilst Kenna rushed to the man lying upon the ground. She turned to see Ian standing only a few feet away, looking grim, and quickly made her way to his side.
“What has happened, Ian?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“The village was burnt, everyone murdered,” he replied quietly. He watched her closely whilst she covered her mouth with her hand. “There is more Amiria . . . ” he began only to have his words cut off by a scream as she caught the sight of Devon.
She ran over and fell to her knees beside him. Grabbing his hand, she leaned over him and noticed his blue eyes staring up into the sky, his breathing eerily shallow. With a look from Kenna, Amiria sadly knew there was nothing her healer could do for Devon. There was no point in halting her from attending Geoffrey where she could do some good.
“Oh, my dear friend,” she whispered with a small anguished cry.
Her words seemed to penetrate his mind in recognition, for Devon turned his head to gaze at her. She took his hand and wiped the hair from his face and watched as a small trickle of blood came from the corner of his mouth.
“I-I wish it w-wasna like th-this, my l-lady,” he sputtered.
“Shh. Be quiet now, Devon,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “All will be well, you shall see.”
“At least I made it home tae see ye if only fer one last time,” he breathed.
Amiria could not suppress the tears that escaped at his words. “You have done well as my guardsman, Devon, and also served my father well.”
Devon gave a small smile in satisfaction at her words. “I w-would ‘ave s-served ye forever, milady,” he said ever so quietly. His eyes fluttered but once afore he gave his last breath, staring at her now through sightless eyes.
Sobs shook Amiria to her very core as she grieved over her guardsman. “Oh, Devon, my dear, dear friend. May God keep you safe. I pray you are in a better place.” She brought his hand to her lips and placed a kiss upon its back afore letting go. Quickly she turned away from the sight of his skin becoming an ashen grey. She would not remember Devon this way but alive with life.
Ian held down his hand for her and she took it. He gently pulled her into his arms, as she wept her sorrow. He continued murmuring words of comfort for her ears alone. He caressed her hair and in the back of her mind, Amiria kept the knowledge that this would be the one and only time Ian would ever hold her this close again. She continued her weeping not only for Devon’s death, but also for the feelings she had once felt for this man, who only wanted her to love him. She felt his arms tighten around her protectively whilst his lips brushed her forehead in a fleeting kiss.
“Hush now, Amiria. Dinnae fash yourself, lass. Our Devon wouldna wish tae see you so overwrought,” he spoke calmly to her in such a loving tone.
She shuttered at his words as reality slammed her back to the present. Drawing back from him, she was remiss that she had let her emotions get the best of her whilst everyone watched her every move. Where once afore stood a woman frail with regret, now stood a woman of determination. After all, she was a warrior at heart and had no time for such foolishness like falling in love or showing signs of weakness.
Amiria called to Garrick, who once more took up his pipes and played a tune that had unfortunately become all too familiar in the past few months. Everyone halted in their duties and bowed their heads in sadness for a boy who had barely known manhood afore he had become an honored guard of the MacLaren clan.
She watched as Ian took up the detail to see that Devon’s body would be laid to rest. She nodded only once to him afore she walked silently into the keep. None stopped her in her misery and she trudged up the flight of stairs to her chamber with a heavy heart.
There was no mistaking the distinct sound of the slamming of neither her door nor the bolt being shoved harshly into place. The sound of her weeping far into the night tore at the hearts of those who cared for her most, and they could only wonder if their mistress would ever be the same again.
