Surviving Scotland (4 page)

****

The days passed quickly, and soon I was allowed to leave my room. My strength returned with each day, but I knew it would take a while longer before I was fully healed. Morag was a diligent and careful nurse, but I wouldn’t miss the bitter teas and the salted broths she forced me to drink.

As I walked down the stairs I held the wall for support, not quite trusting my legs after being in bed for so long. The stone wall was cold against my hand, and my fingers bumped against the interlocking stones as I descended. At the bottom I heard laughter, yelling, and a clash of metal. Curious, I walked to a large, wooden-planked door and opened it slightly.

The sun was bright and I winced as it momentarily blinded me. After my eyes adjusted, I saw the reason for the noise. Two men with leather armor were fighting in the center of the courtyard. With agile movements they thrust and parried, trying to defeat their opponent. A circle of men and a few women gathered at the edge and cheered them on. The men would occasionally laugh at each other during their fight, telling me it was all in good fun or practice. No one looked familiar, but I hadn’t really expected them to; only hoped.

The fight ended when a man pressed the tip of his sword into the other man’s chest and backed away immediately. He threw his hands into the air and the crowd clapped. The defeated man shook his head and then went forward to congratulate the victor.

The crowd dispersed and I closed the door, heading down the hall toward the smell of baking bread.

The castle had very small windows that only let in a slight amount of light, so my eyes took a moment to adjust. The hallway was short and ended in what looked like a dining room. Large wooden tables were scattered and benches surrounded them. A hearth boasted a fire in the middle of the wall, and a few women were sweeping the floor.

I waited for the women to finish their work, and then entered. My hands brushed the tops of the rough-hewn tables made smooth by years of use. The fire crackled and popped, and I heard the clanging of kettles and muted voices from the kitchen. I took a fortifying breath and entered. The bustling activity was unaffected by my entrance, but one woman stirring an open kettle over a fire glanced up upon my arrival. With a grin, she beckoned me to come forward.

“Ach, ye are up an’ about? ‘Tis good ta see ye, lass. Gave us all quite a scare!”

At her words a few others glanced up from their work and gave me welcoming smiles.

“‘Tis good to be up an’ about.” I said.

“I would think so. Ye never were one ta sit abed for any reason. The walls must have been a closin’ in on ye.”

I nodded. She spoke the truth.

“The laird spoke about ye sufferin’ from lack o’ memories, with the fever an’ all. Must be frightenin’. Donna worry though. We’ll take good care o’ ye. I’m Madge. An’ over there is Arig an’ Annabelle. Ye’ve known us for a long while.”

Everyone kept saying that, as if I didn’t already know. It was frustrating! Everyone knew who I was, but I hadn’t a clue about myself. I suppressed the urge to groan at her words but offered her a polite smile instead.

“I thank ye.” At least my brogue was becoming second nature, yet my thoughts were accented differently in my head. Just another mystery.

“Are ye hungry, lass?” Madge asked me with a caring smile. I nodded and she grinned wider. The spoon she was holding dipped further into the pot, and she pulled up a mixture of meat and vegetables and poured it into a cup.

“Now, donna ye go an’ tell on us, that we gave ye a taste. We’ll have a line from here ta the gate, if ye do so. “ She shook her spoon at me. “That’s a good lass. Now go over ta Arig an’ get a bannock.”

“Thank ye.”

“‘Tis nothin’ a’ tall.”

Madge went back to stirring her pot and adding some crushed herbs to it. I turned to where Arig waited with a piece of dark bread. I spoke my thanks and went out to sit at a table.

“Ye forgot yer cutty,” Madge spoke and handed me a rough looking spoon. Before I could thank her, she was back in the kitchen.

After I finished I was once again fighting to stay awake. I could hardly wait ‘til

I had all of my strength back. With reluctant steps I went to my room and took a nap.

****

Bored. The past few days had been nothing but boring. My uncle had conspired with Morag, and neither would allow me to wander farther than the kitchens. I was getting beyond restless and the walls of my room were closing in on me. After Morag checked on me again, I waited for the sound of her footsteps to disappear. I cracked the door open and glanced down the hallway. Everything was silent so I stepped out.

The floor creaked under my foot and the sound seemed to echo. I winced, waiting to be caught sneaking around. I didn’t want to lie and say I was heading to the kitchens, but I was desperate enough to do it. I waited for a few more moments before I began down the hall. The stairway to the kitchen was on one end, but another stairway was at the other end. I choose that one to begin my exploration of the castle. The stairs were worn smooth by years of use and the dark, damp air caused my skin to rise in gooseflesh.

The end of the stairway was much brighter and ended at another hallway with rows of small windows and a few doors. Though I was curious as to where they led, with my luck, I’d simply get caught. The only choice I had was to go outside through the large wooden door at the end. The cold metal handle pressed into my flesh as I pushed. The door groaned but opened, spilling in sunshine. The air was chilly, but not overly so, and I took my first few steps into freedom. A few people milled about, but no one noticed me. I shrugged my plaid around my shoulders for additional warmth and walked toward the gate. A few men loitered about but weren’t paying close attention, so I was able to get through unnoticed.

Hills of green trees and grass stretched far beyond. To my right stood an archway with a stone fence beside it. Curious, I walked over to it and ran my fingers across the smooth stones, wondering how old it was.

“I tho’ yer uncle said ye weren’t ta wander about?” Ioan’s voice startled me and I spun around. He spoke with an arrogant twist to his lips, as he raised an eyebrow then grinned. Though he smiled, his tone was the same one he would use for a small child. Offended at his superior attitude, I glared back.

“Don’t ye have somethin’ better to be doin’ than ta sneak around followin’ people?” I asked.

“Nay.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, walking away.

“Ye ken I’ll just follow ye.”

I ignored him. There was no way I was going back to the keep just to be forced back to bed. I was almost completely recovered, and there was no reason for them to continue treating me like an invalid.

“I knew ye had ta be feelin’ like a bird in a cage. I’ll take ye somewhere… if ye want.” Ioan’s voice was clear as it echoed against the stone wall.

I stopped and turned slowly. Was he telling the truth? Did I want to go anywhere with him? I studied him for a moment. Attraction warred with irritation. His green eyes were steady as I watched him, so I nodded.

“That’s a good lass, let’s get ye back ta yer room and find ye a—”

“No. I’m not going back there, at least not yet. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be stuck up in one room for so long? I understand! I was sick! But I’m not dead. I need some space, some air.” I released a heavy sigh and closed my eyes then inhaled the fresh air. I glanced back to Ioan and waited for his response.

He studied me for a moment, his green eyes narrowing in concentration. Belatedly, I realized I had lapsed into a more articulated accent rather than a Scottish brogue, but I didn’t care.

“Lass, I understand, but if we’re ta go ridin’ then ye’ll need a bit more clothing.”

I glanced down at my dress. It wasn’t indecent, but it did feel a bit light for the weather.

“How do I ken ye willna lock me in my room once I get there?” I narrowed my eyes.

Ioan grinned and took a slow and purposeful step forward. “Ach, lass, if I locked ye in yer room, ye wouldna be wantin’ to leave.” He winked at me and I blushed at his implication. Though I was certainly attracted to Ioan, I was equally annoyed with him.

“Ye’ve lost yer senses, but I knew that already. Are we ta go or what — or are ye goin’ to sit there dreamin’ o’ me all afternoon?” I retorted, arching an eyebrow.

“Ach, lass, my dreams are far better than the likes of ye.” Ioan responded lazily and leaned against the stone fence.

“Then I don’t think ye’ll be lockin’ me in my room, eh?” I grinned.

“I willna lock ye in yer room, for pity’s sake. Where do ye get these ideas in yer head, Elle? Ye need to be more of a lady.”

“You are the one that said—”

“Ach, lass, I implied. You took it from there. I’ll meet ye in the kitchen in about a quarter hour.”

He turned and left, whistling a merry tune as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I fumed, angry at his implication and more so, that he had bested me.

Two can play that game
,
Ioan
.

****

True to his word, Ioan was waiting for me in about fifteen minutes. Though I had only seen him in the belted plaid, I still struggled to keep my eyes from staring at his bare legs and tall socks. He looked every bit the highland warrior and my annoyance melted against the heat of my attraction. And then he opened his mouth.

“I’ve been getting grey here waiting. Did ye try on all yer clothes tryin’ to impress me?” He tisked with his tongue and shook his head. “‘Twill never work. ‘Tis best if ye ken now no’ ta fall for me charm and braw body.” He tossed me a charming grin and strode over to where I waited, silently fuming.

“Actually, it just took me a moment to stomach the fact that I had ta spend the afternoon in the company o’ the likes o’ you.” I spoke through clenched teeth.

“Ach, Elle, donna pretend ‘tis no’ true. Lyin’s a sin, ye ken.” Ioan lips twitched in a half grin.

“I could say the same ta you.”

He chuckled and walked to the door.

“Are ye comin’ or are ye goin’ ta sit there with yer mouth open catchin’ flies?”

With a deep breath I followed him out the door. If I made it through the afternoon without strangling him, it would be a miracle.

We walked to a stone stable and he led me to a brown horse. There were only three in the stable.

“Where are the other horses?”

“Other horses?” Ioan glanced at me as he patted one gelding’s rump while walking behind it.

“Aye, certainly there are more—”

Ioan’s laugh interrupted me.

“Are ye sure ye didn’t hit yer head as well as catch that fever? More horses? Donna ye ken how blessed we are ta have three? Many donna have even one!”

He shook his head and began leading the horse outside. “Dag is yer mount. He’s a gentle one. Come here and I’ll give ye a lift.”

I eyed the beast dubiously. Surely I knew how to ride? Ioan gave me a long-suffering sigh, and I straightened my shoulders and strode over to the horse. With little effort, Ioan hoisted me onto the saddle. Automatically I straddled the horse but it felt wrong. Though my position was secure, it seemed like my legs should be together. Ioan’s lips twisted in a wry grin.

“Donna tell me ye now use the sidesaddle? Elle, what happened? I leave fer a few years and come back ta ye thinkin’ ye’re a lady.”

“I am a lady.” I shot back.

He just grinned and went to his mount.

Ioan led us onto a road that wound around a glen and through lush forests. The damp air was chilly, so I pulled up my plaid tighter around my shoulders. The rhythm of the horse’s pace was relaxing and though nothing I beheld was familiar, I was at peace. That Ioan was astoundingly quiet added to that sense of well-being. I wished I remembered our history. Had we always fought? He had been so tender when I was sick, checking on me. The stirring clarity of his light green eyes captivated me, and I had been looking forward to knowing him better. Yet each time he opened his mouth, I wanted to slap it shut. Certainly, there had never been a more exasperating man. My sense of peace now gone, I decided to ask Ioan some questions.

“So where are we?”

“Scotland.”

“Ye’re helpful.”

“I try.” He glanced back at me and grinned. “Kilmartin Glen. This is where I saw ye and drug ye home in the rain.”

“I suppose I should thank ye?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Ye can thank me later.” His eyes trailed from my boots up my leg and boldly took in my body till he reached my face. With an unrepentant wink, he turned back around.

I bristled at his insinuation, though my body betrayed me and stirred with warmth at the muted smolder of his eyes.

“Never.”

He laughed loudly, scaring a flock of birds into flight. Dag shied and jumped a few steps before he shook his head and continued his docile pace.

“Even the birds canna stand ye.”

“I live fer yer compliments, Elle, truly.”

“Did I ever like ye?” I spoke through clenched teeth.

“No. Ye loathed me.” Ioan turned back and gave me a mischievous grin.

“Ye sound thrilled.”

“Oh, I am. I’ve worked hard fer years to attain that place in yer sweet little heart.” Ioan chuckled.

“Perhaps the memory loss is a blessin’ then. I canna remember yer torture.”

“That’s why I’m tryin’ so hard now.”

“Ye’re succeedin’.” I mumbled.

“Good ta ken.”

We plodded along for a few more minutes before I thought of another question.

“So ye’ve just returned?”

“Aye, I was gone fer about four years.”

I waited for him to explain, curious as to whether anything he said would bring up a memory.

“Our clan is related ta the Argyll Campbells. When the civil war broke out in England, the supporters o’ the Crown fought against the Covenanters. Argyll attacked those who didn’t support his covenant cause, mainly the Lamonts, Lavines, and, later, the MacDonalds. There was a horrible massacre, but ‘twas a while ago. But then the Jacobites began their uprisin’ an’ again, the Campbells aligned themselves with Fraiser, Monroe, an’ Grant ta form the
Reicudan Dhu
, or Black Watch. I enlisted in the watch fer three years, wore the kilt, and fought, but when I was injured, I returned home.”

Silently, I contemplated his short history lesson.

“Ye didn’t even care ta ask about how I was injured! Ye wound me deep, lass.” Ioan gave me a pitiful expression over his shoulder. Clearly, he was alive and well enough to torment me. “Quiet now? Are ye realizin’ I’m right? Must hurt the pride somethin’ fierce.” He chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking. The movement fascinated me.

“Elle?”

Ioan turned his horse around and gave me a concerned look. Quickly I met his gaze, hoping he hadn’t noticed my intense study of his body.

“Stunned into silence by my backside? ‘Tisn’t the first time, ducky.” His arrogant smirk removed any attraction I had experienced; all I wanted to do was beat the grin from his face. Had I always been so violent?

“Ducky?” I asked carefully, I highly doubted he meant the term as an endearment.

“Aye, but if ye prefer I can call ye me wee haggis.”

“Wee haggis?” I was quite sure I wouldn’t like that name’s meaning. Ioan struggled to restrain his laughter. His green eyes twinkled and matched the green forest behind him.

“Aye, donna tell me ye donna remember haggis. ‘Tis near every Scot’s heart, it is.”

“Enlighten me?” I asked with a wry tone.

“If ye insist. Ye will find out soon enough though, we have it often at supper.”

“Is it a dinner or a dessert?”

At my question Ioan howled with laughter. The unrestrained mirth made his already handsome face downright devastating. I wanted to make him laugh again, just to watch him. How could I be so attracted to someone so annoying?

“Lass.” Ioan took a break to catch his breath. “No, ‘tisn’t dessert. Haggis is a hearty mix o’ sheep’s heart, liver, an’ lungs, mixed with oatmeal, spices, an’ some other things I donna remember, then stuffed inside a beast’s belly an’ baked. It takes forever to cook but ‘tis a piece o’ heaven. Truly.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Ye’ll love it, ye will.”

I gave him a tight smile, seriously doubting I’d find it appetizing. As I thought about it, I remembered a meal from my childhood. It was awful, kidney something. The memory was blurry around the edges and I concentrated harder, wanting desperately to have a piece of my past. But as soon as it flashed, it disappeared, leaving me with a faintly familiar mental picture.

“I seem to remember something like that… does it have a pastry around it?”

“No, but it has neeps an’ tatties.”

“Neeps an’ tatties? Do I want ta ken?”

“Ye donna even remember neeps an’ tatties? Ach, we need ta be holdin’ yer wee hand through it all again, do we?” Ioan grinned, but his lips twitched as if trying to prevent a full-fledged smile. Was he hiding something? “Neeps an’ tatties are the frogs’ feet we gather from the loch at eventide. We call ‘em neeps an’ tatties because o’ the noise they make when ye chew ‘em. They squeak an’ neep, but are tough like uncooked potatoes. Ye got ta eat ‘em, an’ ‘tis verra important ye donna leave ‘em on yer plate. Madge, the cook makes ‘em, an’ they are her favorite.”

Ioan nudged his horse to come alongside of mine. He lowered his voice and leaned toward me, his green eyes holding me captive.

“And donna ye ferget that, lass. The last one that refused ta finish his ration was forced ta eat them fer two days straight… no’ pleasant. I donna want ye ta suffer the same fate.”

“I donna believe ye,” I whispered, our gazes locked.

“Ye donna need to, lass, but donna say I fergot ta warn ye.”

Ioan grinned and urged his horse to head back toward the castle.

“It grows late, me wee haggis, we best head home.” He called over his shoulder.

“I prefer ducky,” I called as I led my horse to turn around and follow behind him.

“Ye had yer chance.”

“Perfect,” I muttered under my breath. Ioan must have heard it, for he began to chuckle. What I wouldn’t give for something to throw at him and knock him off his horse. Next time I would be prepared.