Page 33 of Forge of the Highlander’s Destiny

C ohen woke in his bed. Squinting his eyes open, he made a loud groan as he tried to shift, and everything felt like it hurt. He looked down and saw his arm and side and leg covered in bandages. When he tried to sit up, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

“Just rest, Cohen. Ye need it.” He spotted Arya looking down at him kindly, and she looked both tired and relieved. Her hair was tied back with a woolen wrap, and she was rinsing a cloth in a bowl of water. She placed it on his head. “Thank God,” she said, “the fever is gone.”

“Fever?” he asked, confused. He looked outside the window at the bright sunshine. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days,” she said, shaking her head. “Ye and many of yer men struggled. Many fell, Cohen, I am sorry to say. But Malcolm has made a full recovery with Sara tending to him faithfully. She is happier with each day that he looks a little better. And ye will make a full recovery too, Cohen.”

She smiled weakly, and Cohen laid back. When she tried to move away, he grasped her hand, and he brought it to his dried lips.

“Tell me. What happened to me sister’s body? Where will she be taken?” His heartbeat slowed. The image of Sienna falling to her death would forever be in his mind.

“Yer sister and me faither’s bodies are bein’ prepared to return to their lands.

Me faither’s men who survived will take him back tomorrow.

I have sent a letter to Thomas, Sienna’s husband, and he will arrive to take her back as well.

I am sorry, Cohen.” He saw tears in her eyes. “Can ye ever forgive me?”

“For what, Lass?” he croaked.

“For shootin’ the arrow that killed her. I ken that ye loved her.” Arya looked down, and Cohen reached out his hand to touch her face.

There were tears in his eyes too. The loss of his sister was great, very great, and his heart and mind hadn’t yet had the chance to catch up with it all.

But he did know one thing. He said, “Ye did the right thing. And ye saved me from doin’ it meself.

I didnae think I would have had the strength to do so, injured or nae.

And she was goin’ to kill us all and take over the Lairdship if ye didnae kill her.

Ye were right to do what ye did.” He tried to make eye contact with her, and when he caught her lovely blue gaze, she nodded.

“I will try to remember that.”

“Please dae.” For now, he put thoughts of his sister out of his mind as best he could. There would be much time to mourn her. “And ye, Lass? How are ye with the death of yer faither?”

Arya sighed and squeezed his hand again. “It is a good thing. A very good thing. We are finally free, and we can live with ye here forever. It is just that I didnae wish to see it meself.” She shuddered, and Cohen nodded.

“Aye. I can understand that completely. I wish I could have saved ye from that.”

Arya brushed a tear away and tried to smile. “But here ye are. Better, and ye will heal from yer injuries soon. I was worried when she’d stabbed ye, but it seems she didnae mean to kill ye with the wound. At least nae right then.”

“Aye, we are lucky in that regard then,” he said with a chuckle, but it turned into a cough, and he groaned as he laid back again. “Dear God, why does everythin’ hurt?”

“Ye had to fight for yer castle when ye were already injured, that’s why,” Arya said, smoothing his hair over his forehead.

“Rest now, Cohen. Rest, so that when ye are awake and feeling better, I can show ye just how much I appreciate ye.”

Cohen closed his eyes and smiled. “Aye, Arya, I will rest for that.”

Arya’s days were filled with constant work. As the Lady of the Castle with an injured laird at the moment, she was in charge of determining where to put everyone and how to help them. The healer and his assistant came to stay at the castle to help all the injured men.

Sara was there by her side every step of the way, and when she wasn’t with Arya helping her with the men, she was helping Malcolm. He’d been injured by a wound to his side, and Arya finally saw the affection between them. At least there were still bright spots among all the death and betrayal.

The healed soldiers dealt with the bodies, and the servants cleaned the castle from the battle. The work was a good thing because it kept her from thinking about what she’d done and what she’d seen. Her father was dead, and now she had to take care of her sister.

“What are ye thinkin’ about?” Olivia asked the next morning as she met Arya in the kitchen. She had spent a lot of time there in the last two days, boiling water to bring to the injured men.

“The future, I suppose. Are ye sad that Faither is gone?”

“Nae a bit,” Olivia said. “Are ye?”

Arya shook her head. “Nay, but ye must think it’s funny. I feel a sort of guilt about it. Like I should feel sad, but I daenae.”

“Daenae feel guilty. Daenae let that man make ye feel any guiltier than he has already done.”

Olivia helped Arya carry the buckets of hot water up the steps when they were stopped by a servant. “Let me take those, Lady Sinclair. There is a visitor for ye in the hall. A Laird McMahon.”

“Och, of course.” Arya gave the buckets away, and she smoothed her skirt. “Please tell Laird Sinclair that he is here.”

“Aye, My Lady.” The servant hurried away, and Olivia and Arya met with Thomas in the hall.

He stood, slowly and reverently, and for the first time, there was a clarity in his eyes. He bowed. “There is nae much to say. I can only say thank ye for allowin’ me to come and fetch her body and nae killin’ me or me men here today on the spot.”

Arya tried to smile. “It is nae trouble. Ye have a right to the body, and then once ye are gone, we can move on. We daenae have to think of it again.”

“Aye, but I wonder if I might speak to Laird Sinclair before I go.”

“Laird Sinclair is—”

“Ready to speak tae ye,” Cohen said, with a servant on his arm, helping him into the room.

“Cohen, ye didnae need to leave the bed,” she said, but she was relieved that he was well enough to begin walking.

“Nae to worry, Lass. When I heard he was here, I wanted to come.” He took a seat at the table, and Thomas sat down as well. Arya and Olivia sat across from them.

“I am sorry for what happened. I didnae think that me wife could do somethin’ so terrible. I have been nae payin’ attention in the last few years to many things. I relied on her so much as well. I had no idea.”

Arya could tell he was in earnest, and she almost felt sorry for the man.

Thomas cleared his throat and said, “I want ye to take over the Clan. I daenae deserve its Lairdship any longer. I want to go away, perhaps even leave the country or go south. I am nae fit to lead. And we have nay heirs. It might pass to ye anyway.”

“Nay, I couldnae dae that,” Cohen said softly, and Arya knew his sister’s death and betrayal was a great blow. She could see it in his eyes.

“Aye I must insist. Ye are the better choice.” He stood. “I will be leavin’, whether ye take the Lairdship or nae. Ye must help me and keep me people safe. They will trust ye after all that has happened.”

Cohen opened his mouth to refuse again, but then he seemed to think better of it. “Aye, I will. But I ask that ye let me see Sienna’s body before ye take her. There are some things I must say. I ken she willnae be buried here, and she betrayed her family, but we are still blood.”

Arya squeezed his hand, letting a tear fall from her eye. Despite the loss, Cohen had held up well. He would take his time to grieve.

“Agreed.” Thomas reached over and shook his hand. “I am glad ye have accepted. Ye will be far better than either of us ever could be. Now, I will wait to take me wife’s body and go to see that bastard traitor Calvin as well. He is nae dead?”

“Nae, just injured.”

“How unfortunate.”

Olivia stood and took Thomas’ arm. “I will take ye to him.”

“Thank ye, Lass.” At the door, Thomas turned back. “And thank ye. Both of ye.”

He was gone, and Arya was grateful they would never have to see him again.

“Come with me, Laird Sinclair. Or is it Laird McMahon now?” she asked as she helped him to his feet. “I wanted ye to stay in bed.”

“And stay I will, if ye will come visit me,” he teased, nuzzling against her neck. “Besides, I will be a very busy man soon. I will need help.”

She laughed, wrapping an arm about his waist. “Ye will be perfect. And I am here to help ye.”

“Ye have already helped me in so many ways. I daenae ken how I have lived without ye until now.” He paused and looked down at her with a sadness in his eyes. “Ye are nae angry that I wish to say final words to me sister?”

“Nae at all, Cohen! Ye are right. She is yer blood, and ye had a kinship more so than me faither and I ever had. Go, speak to her. Lay her to rest.”

He nodded and brushed away a tear.

Smiling, she said, “But there will be no bed visits, nae those kind, until ye are fully better. A week, perhaps?”

“Och,” he scoffed, the stricken expression leaving his face. “That feels like an eternity.”

“Well, at least we have each other for eternity, right? We have plenty of time.”

“So we dae, Arya,” he said with a kiss on her hair. “So we dae.”

The End?