AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Father will make me marry this man–what choice dae I have?” she said, but the only answer was the wind, whistling across the heathers.
Murdina leaned forward and kissed the ground of her sister’s grave. It was sacred to her, and sitting there, she felt closer to her sister than when only her memories sufficed as a reminder of all they had shared. The two had always been close, far closer than Murdina was to Ella and Freya.
“And Ella and Freya will nae be far behind. They will be happy to have husbands. But ye know what I am like, Aoife. I daenae want to marry just anyone. I am like ye. I want to marry for love,” Murdina said, shaking her head as her tears mixed with the rain running down her cheeks.
It had been love, which was her sister’s undoing. Aoife had loved and known the bitter taste of betrayal–so bitter that it had led to death. Murdina knew love could be the elixir of happiness or poison so potent as to lead to the sorrowful sight before her. She had no intention of suffering its bitter sting, but neither did she intend to accept a life devoid of love, even if that love risked pain, too.
The wind was howling across the mull now, the rain driving in sheets, and the sky black with menacing clouds rolling in from the north. Murdina shivered, pulling her sodden shawl more tightly around her and rising to her feet. Her dress was muddied and stained, but she could not bring herself to leave her sister yet. It was always a terrible wrench, and there were times when Murdina would gladly have lain down on the grave and never risen again.
“Murdina!” a cry came from the track leading up to the kirk, and she looked up to find Cillian standing there, gazing around for her.
“I am here,” she said, reluctantly stepping away from the graveside.
“Yer father is nae pleased with ye–nor with me. He sent me to find ye. I told him ye were here, but he would hear nothin’ of it. Ye are to come back to the castle at once,” Cillian said, and Murdina nodded.
She glanced a final, reluctant look at her sister’s grave before following Cillian back down the track, where the lighted windows of the castle promised refuge from the storm.
“He knows I like to be with her,” Murdina replied, but Cillian only shook his head.
“Daenae search for the livin’ among the dead, Murdina. Yer sister is nae comin’ back. Those that sit at gravesides become ghosts in themselves. Ye know that” he said, glancing at her with a worried expression on his face.
But Murdina could not let go of the past, not when the future held such troubling thoughts, and it was with much reluctance she followed Cillian through the castle gates, torn by what might have been and what now seemed certain to be…
