Page 31 of The Mad Highlander

31

I ris felt the door close behind her. She watched as Margot took a large key from the pocket on the front of her dress and inserted it into the lock. She turned it with a click—the door would present a last line of defense, but it would only give them seconds once found.

Iris’ hand moved toward the small dirk the Laird had made her accept. It was tethered to her by a thin leather strap around her waist. She touched the sheath. It was one thing to play with a dirk and pretend to defend yourself, but it was another entirely to use it to fight an enemy soldier.

Margot turned to face the women and children in the large room with a tight smile on her face.

“Aye, it is done. All we can do now is pray for the men above,” she said.

Iris knew it was supposed to be a motivational message, but it felt like a funeral reading. Margot tried to look at everyone in turn, offering small nods to those who had congregated in the bowels of the castle, but there were far too many to reach them all with comfort.

The warmth of the dozens of bodies did little to warm the cold air of the depths. Candles flickered on the walls, and there were more candles in reserve.

“Maither, what happens if we run out of candles and the men are still fighting?” Robyn asked.

“That won’t happen, me dear,” Margot replied.

Robyn’s eyes were a little wider than they usually were as if she were permanently a little scared by something. In the circumstances, that was understandable.

“Aye, but what if that does happen?” Robyn pushed.

Margot smiled some more, taking her daughter by the arm and leading her gently and slowly toward the chair that had been placed especially for Margot. Iris went with them.

“Robyn,” Margot hissed quietly but with some force, “ye cannae talk like that. I ken how ye feel, but our duty down here is to protect everyone. They are fightin’ up there with Cayden leadin’ the charge. We lead the charge down here, all right? We need to keep our spirits up. Aye, there is a chance that the candles will run out and we will be plunged into darkness, or there willnae be enough water and we’ll go thirsty, but we dinnae mention such things, all right?”

Robyn looked down at the earthen floor and nodded her head sharply. She looked back up, her eyes still wide but filled with a little guilt. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying not to look around the room.

“Aye, I’ll try,” Robyn said.

“Guid lass,” Margot replied.

“Was there any word from Hunter afore we came down here?” Iris asked.

“There was so much goin’ on that I wasnae keepin’ track of what was what,” Margot admitted. “I ken Hunter, and I ken he will fight side by side with Cayden.”

“Aye,” Iris said firmly. She could tell what Margot was doing, and she did the same in return.

Margot sat on the chair and surveyed the room. There was only one way in or out. Stone walls surrounded them with a stone ceiling above. The door was locked, but it would take a couple of men less than thirty seconds to break it down. They had thought of using the dungeons, but they would be broken into also. There was little difference between a few more minutes of safety.

There were other rooms with women and children. Still, looking around the room, it felt like they were the last of their people.

“Why don’t ye fetch a cup of water for yer maither,” Iris suggested. “It will be good for the people to see her actin’ normal and will stop them from panickin’.”

“Aye.” Robyn nodded—she was happy to have something to do. She was restless already. She headed toward the middle of the room to retrieve a little of the water that had been brought down.

Iris placed her hand over Margot’s. “Ye give them all strength.”

“That is our role,” Margot admitted.

“Ye can be strong in front of them, but ye dinnae need to be strong in front of me.”

“Och, I’m fine.” Margot waved her hand in the air and looked away.

“Yer nae fine,” Iris told her. “I ken this is hard for ye. Ye already lost one son, and ye dinnae want to lose another. I dinnae want to lose him either. I love him.”

Margot looked up at Iris. Her eyes were wet, but happiness shone behind the tears. “Aye, I love him, too.” She took Iris’ hand and squeezed it. “Thank ye, me dear.”

“I should have told him.” Iris felt her heart skip a beat. “I spent some time with him last night, and I was too scared to say it. I had too much on me mind. How could I admit that and then watch him go off to fight?”

“I dinnae have a chance to say anythin’ to him either before he marched off this mornin’, but let me tell ye one thing: he kens. He kens that I love him, and that Robyn loves him, and he will ken that. He kens how ye feel about him, and he feels the same way about ye.”

“So ye think?” Iris felt Robyn returning with the water.

Margot smiled sincerely and patted Iris’ hand. “Aye, he kens. He will be thinkin’ about ye now as he goes out there to fight, and let me tell ye another thing: love is a powerful force. I dinnae doubt me son, but I doubt him even less kennin’ that he has someone to return to.”

“I pray he comes back to us,” Iris said.

“Give me yer hand.” Margot looked up at Robyn when she returned. “Put the water down for now, and give me yer hand, too.”

Iris and Robyn did as they were told, clasping hands with Margot. When Margot bowed her head, the two younger ladies did the same. Margot muttered a short prayer under her breath. The three heads remained bowed until the prayer was done.

When they all looked up, the mood in the cavernous room had changed. Anxious faces looked back at them—the prayer had not helped to lift the mood. If prayer was needed, then something must be really wrong.

“I dinnae ken if I have the strength for this,” Margot admitted. “I want to help them and assure them everythin’ will be fine, but any words I offer will sound hollow. We have nay idea what is happenin’ up there,” Margot moaned.

Iris knelt down before Margot, and they looked into each other’s eyes. She shared Margot’s loss and let Margot share hers. They had both lost people, and there was one man out there who meant the world to both of them. Iris had a lot she wanted to say, but she couldn’t vocalize it—it would not help.

If he dies out there, it will break the both of us and mean the end of the clan. Tristan was like a brother to me, but I dinnae want to ken what he will do to me if he makes it down here. I would rather use the dirk on meself.

Margot blinked away the tears. Neither woman had said anything, but they both understood each other.

Iris offered a tight smile before she stood up. She might not be hand-fasted to the Laird yet, but it was as good as done if he won the war, and that meant she was as good as the lady of the castle. It was not Margot’s responsibility to keep everyone’s spirits up; it was hers.

She looked around the room, seeing ghosts of former women. They had felt the atmosphere before coming down, and they knew what might come to pass. Some paced while others muttered to themselves.

Iris looked around, trying her best to look into the eyes of each and every one of them. She opened her mouth, willing some form of comfort or consolation to emerge, but her mind faltered. She opened her mouth a second time, and a song flowed from her like water poured from a jug, a song that had been sung previously to remember the fallen at the Battle of Flodden.

“ I’ve heard the lilting, at our yowe-milking,

Lasses a-lilting, before dawn of day;

But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning;

The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away. ”

Iris did not have the best voice in the world, but it was good enough, and the words echoed around the room like a cricket leaping through the long grass. Iris looked at the faces, all eyes pinned on her, and she did not know if she had helped at all.

She was about to turn away when a voice rose from within the women and children to sing the second verse.

“ At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning,

The lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae;

Nae daffin’, nae gabbin’, but sighing and sabbing,

Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her away. ”

Astrid walked toward Iris, and it brought tears to Iris’ eyes. Iris watched Astrid sing, locking eyes with her and hearing the voice of an angel. Iris had not lost her love yet, but Astrid had lost her love many years ago.

Astrid stopped beside Iris and took her hand. “Together,” Astrid said. “We do this together.”

Iris nodded, and they broke into the third verse.

“ In hairst, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering,

The bandsters are lyart, and runkled, and grey;

At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching,

The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away. ”

Iris cried as she sang, the tears rolling down her cheeks. Astrid squeezed her hand tightly, and the pain and suffering she had endured over the years flowed into Iris—they shared the pain of what was and what was to come.

The others in the room joined in with the song.

“ At e’ene, in the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming,

’Bout stacks wi’ the lasses at bogle to play;

But ilk ane sits drearie, lamenting her dearie,

The Flowers of the Forest are a’' wede away. ”

The words filled the room, flowing through hearts, rousing spirits through sorrow for those who had been lost to protect what they all had. Iris felt she was floating above the earthen floor as everyone joined hands to sing together, and a part of her hoped the men fighting above could hear the singing, too. That it invaded their hearts and minds and inspired them as much as they were inspired.

“ Dool and wae for the order, sent our lads to the Border!

The English, for ance, by guile wan the day;

The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost,

The prime of our land are cauld in the clay.

We’ll hear nae mair lilting, at the yowe-milking,

Women and bairns are heartless and wae;

Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning,

The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away. ”

The room fell silent, but it was not empty anymore. Each woman and child wore an aura around them that warmed them. Iris wrapped her arms around Astrid, and she replied with the same.

“Have hope,” Astrid whispered. “Always have hope. Healin’ doesnae always happen in the healin’ hut.” She tapped Iris’ chest. “It happens in here, too.” She tapped her own chest. “And here.”

“Thank ye for joinin’ me,” Iris said. “And thank ye for takin’ care of me brother on his return here. Ye have helped me far more than ye will ever ken.”

“And ye have helped me,” Astrid said.

“Was that nae braw!” Margot announced, finding some vigor and standing up from her chair. “I dinnae think I have heard a better group of lasses and bairns. This is what we will do until our men get back. We will sing songs and tell stories. Anyone can tell one, and the more songs we have, the better. So, think of yer very best songs and stories, and we will all come together.”

“I feel better,” Iris said to Astrid.

“Ye made this happen.” Astrid took Iris’ hand again.

“I wish me brother were here with us. He always told guid stories. Do ye ken where in the castle they took him?”

“I thought ye kenned,” Astrid said.

Iris’ blood ran cold, and the chill in the room returned, penetrating her. “Kenned what?” She knew the answer already but had to ask the question.

“He wanted to fight,” Astrid said.

Iris stumbled back until she hit the cold stone. She slumped down the wall, her dress dragging on the rough stone. She hit the ground and brought her knees up to her chest.

He’s only seventeen! Seventeen and fightin’ against men. I cannae lose them both.