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“The same night a young servant lass at Clan MacVannan gave birth. She was a small one and weak from an ordeal she had suffered but had managed to escape. Lord Bennett treated her well while she was with him. Her delivery was not going well, and she was wise enough to realize she would not survive it. She begged Lord Bennett to keep her child safe. She had confessed all to him before she died, and he brought the bairn to me asking for help. I took the newborn to Margaret and told her the tale of the homeless bairn and how she needed protection. She took you in her dying arms and claimed you as her daughter and insisted I promise to never tell Newlin the truth. That he must never know that their child was lost that night. She feared he would never survive the news of losing both his wife and child. It helped that your mother had the same-colored hair as Margaret and was petite like Margaret. No one would ever suspect you were not her child.”
“Someone must have suspected since Marta told me that my mum was a liar and cheated on my da and got what she deserved.”
Orianna shook her head slowly. “I feared some of the people there that night had seen Bennett talking with me and assumed he was there wanting to see Margaret. He was grieving for the loss of your true mum, and Marta wrongly assumed it was Margaret he grieved for.”
“What of the healers who helped deliver the bairn?” Tavia asked. “Ivan said the MacVannan healer confessed the truth that Lord Bennett was my da.”
“Corlean and Eartha knew the danger in revealing the truth. Corlean probably confirmed whatever tale Ivan wished her to so that you continued to stay safe.”
“Safe from whom and why would Lord Bennett bring the bairn to you? Why not simply have her raised by his clan?” Bhric asked.
“To explain any further, I need Marta here.” Orianna saw the hesitancy in her son to grant her request and quickly said, “It is important she be here, Bhric.”
Bhric nodded and went to get the woman.
Tavia had endless questions to ask the woman. but she sat silent, too shocked to know what to ask.
“Your parents loved each other very much,” Orianna said.
“Which parents?” Tavia asked, her own question startling her since she did not know who was who, and that included herself.
“Your true parents.”
“But they never got to meet me or get know me. How could they love me?”
“You were conceived of their love, and they sacrificed their lives to see you kept safe,” Orianna said and turned quiet when Bhric returned with Marta.
Marta stood by Orianna, paying no heed to Tavia.
Orianna turned a soft smile on the woman. “You need to hear this, Marta, though what you learn will remain in this room.”
“As you say,” Marta said and stood rigid.
Orianna took a fortifying breath and said, “Tavia’s true parents are part of our people, the Northmen tribes.”
“She was born on this soil,” Marta argued.
“Aye, but her parents are a Northman and Northwoman. Her mother was taken as a slave during a raid on a tribe. During her time there the tribe leader’s son fell in love with her. When he learned she carried his child he wanted to wed her. His father refused his request and ordered the woman sold, wanting no future heir born to a slave. His son planned an escape for them both, but his father learned of it and tried to stop it. The son fought bravely and was able to set sail with the woman he loved. Unfortunately, he had been wounded and died in his love’s arms before reaching Scottish soil. How the woman wound up at Clan MacVannan I do not know. She confessed all to Lord Bennett before she died begging him to keep her daughter safe. She knew the tribe leader would not give up his search for them, and she feared what he would do to their child if he found her, having sworn that no slave’s child would claim heir to his tribe.”
“I was born here on this soil,” Tavia repeated what Marta had said, trying to make sense of who she always believed she was… a woman of Scottish blood.
“That may be, but the Northmen blood of two brave souls who loved each other dearly runs through you,” Orianna said.
“Is there still reason to worry over my wife’s safety from this tribe leader?” Bhric asked, knowing how vicious some North tribes could be.
“The leader recently died in battle and his tribe was conquered. There is no reason to worry any longer, though there is also no reason for it to be known since I intend to keep my promise to Margaret and never let Newlin know the truth.”
“What leader and tribe?” Bhric asked and when she gave pause to her response, he worried what she would say.
“Asger of the Sturlung Tribe,” Orianna said.
Marta’s eyes turned wide, and she paled. “Asger is the one who killed my husband, sold me into slavery, destroyed our tribe and killed my daughter Eydis.”
“Eydis did not die, Marta,” Orianna said.
Marta shook her head. “Nay. Nay. I saw them drag her blood-covered body away.”
“Eydis may have been bloody, but she was not dead. She survived. It was Eydis who fell in love with Asger’s son, Brant… Tavia is your granddaughter.”
