Chapter 20
Hours passed as Kirsten and Moira clung to each other.
The battle was fierce. Fires blazed and were doused just as quickly, and in the distance, they could hear cries of death.
Armor clattered as guards reinforced the army, but there was yet no sign of Marcas.
Kirsten wondered how much of his strength had been drained, and how much he was like his father.
“It’s just like it was back then,” Moira whispered to herself.
Although she hadn’t been there, Kirsten knew what day she was talking about: the day her father had died.
Marcas wouldn’t retreat while there were still enemies threatening his clan.
He would galvanize his soldiers to fight for as long as he did, until the enemy was driven off.
“Moira, what are we gaeing tae dae if Marcas loses?” Kirsten asked, hating herself for even thinking such a thing, but it was a practical matter that had to be considered.
“We run,” Moira said. “As much as I hate tae think it, we hae tae run. Marcas haes always told me that being taken prisoner is a fate worse than death. We need tae find our horses and flee. Perhaps we could gae tae yer home. We would be safe there.” Kirsten nodded and was glad that she had learned to ride Skye.
The air was filled with disparate noises, each one more chilling than the last. Battle was a terrible thing for even those who were not taking part in the fighting, for they had to wait with tension and wonder what was happening.
The unknown was a void in their minds, and all manner of horrible and terrifying images swirled and took shape. It was easy to fear the worst.
The night was pitch black. A form lumbered towards them.
Kirsten and Moira trembled with fear as they worried that one of the enemy soldiers had managed to get behind the lines of the Monroe clan and would soon start to attack the castle itself.
But then they heard barking, and out of the darkness came Max.
He bounded up to the girls and pawed and licked their faces. Kirsten almost cried with relief.
“Oh, Max, I’m sorry for nae believing ye.
I will never ignore ye again,” she said, and then her gaze turned to the man following him.
Marcas was a terrible sight. His clothes were torn.
Blood dripped from his blade, and his hands and face were stained with the darkness of battle.
He was a grim and foreboding sight, but underneath all the horror of war was her husband returned to her.
She rushed up to him and wrapped her arms around him, not caring about the sickly stench of death that clung to him.
She burrowed deeper, finding the familiar scent that belonged to her.
“It’s over,” he said in a halting breath.
Then his knees buckled and he sank to the ground, his strength drained from him.
Kirsten kissed him and Moira came over to tend to him.
They quickly inspected him for wounds and were glad to find that they were only superficial.
There was nothing that would last, and nothing that would cause them any more suffering.
Kirsten wept grateful tears as she held him tightly and whispered in his ear that she loved him, over and over again.
Kirsten and Moira helped Marcas upstairs while the rest of the clan was busy with the aftermath of the battle.
Moira smiled and left them alone. Kirsten understood that she had plenty to process herself, and she was secretly glad that she had some time to spend with Marcas alone.
She drew him a bath and forced him to get into the soapy water.
She washed him down, watching all the crusted dirt and mud peel away from his skin, leaving him cleansed.
He rested his weary body, his muscular arms and legs draped over the sides of the bath.
Water trickled along these and dripped on the floor.
Kirsten moved the cloth slowly across his body, enjoying the act of washing him, enjoying every inch of his body.
While she washed him, she told him all about what Roderick had said, including the parts about Marcas’s mother. Marcas swallowed a lump in his throat.
“I always thought there was something strange about that day. She was sae skittish. It seemed as though she wanted tae tell me something. But I suppose her secrets are buried with her.” He paused for a moment and then tilted his head so he could look at Kirsten directly.
Water sloshed around him as his body moved.
“Did ye mean what ye said when ye were in the dungeon? That ye love me?”
Kirsten blushed and averted her gaze. “Aye, I did. When I realized that I might never see ye again, I couldnae handle it. I knew then that I couldnae live without ye, and I…I know that ye think differently tae me. I know that ye might nae feel the same way, and I’ve decided that I can cope with that. I dinnae mind.”
Marcas took her hand and traced his fingers upon her palm. Her skin was so soft, and his was so rough. They were such opposites that, in a way, it didn’t seem as though they should fit together at all.
“I hae been thinking about things a lot, about ye and I. I know I was nae hospitable when we first met, and I apologize for that. I thought the only reason ye wanted tae marry me was because of the name, but I see now that ye dae care. I’m sorry for thinking the worst of ye.
The truth is that I hae never haed the best opinion of people.
I’ve always preferred tae be by myself or with animals.
I cannae be deceived then. It takes a lot for me tae trust someone, and I’m sorry that I’m hard work.
“I know I’m not what ye wanted when ye pictured a husband, but I dae trust ye.
And as much as I think highly of my da, there are ways in which I dinnae want tae be like him.
He liked battle more than he liked spending time with Ma, and I suppose I can see why she would betray him for Roderick.
He made mistakes, and I dinnae want tae repeat them.
I want tae be a good husband for ye, and I hae tae admit that coming sae close tae death hae made me think a wee bit differently about life.
I want tae make more of an effort with ye, Kirsten.
I want tae prove tae ye that I can be a husband worthy of yer love. ”
“Oh, Marcas,” she said, flinging her arms around him. He kissed her deeply and said the words she had been longing to hear. They were music to her ears, and she would never forget them.
She peppered him with kisses and then yelped as he grabbed her and pulled her into the bath.
Water sloshed over the sides and flowed over the stone floor.
Kirsten gasped and slapped him playfully, pretending to be annoyed that her clothes had gotten drenched.
Marcas arched his eyebrows and said there was an easy way to rectify that situation.
He pulled her clothes away, and she melted into him, their bodies finding each other, and this time their lovemaking was even more impassioned because it was imbued with love.
The following day was one of the happiest of Kirsten’s life.
The future looked brighter than ever. She was certain that all the sorrow of the world was behind her.
All the uncertainty that had been in her heart on her wedding day had vanished, and she considered this to be the time when her marriage had truly begun.
The wedding was just a precursor, and at that point, she and Marcas hadn’t known each other well enough to fully enjoy the day.
But the layers had been peeled back, and she loved what she had found.
There were celebrations abound in the castle as the clan rejoiced in their victory against the attackers.
The resolve of the people was strengthened, and the clan was stronger than ever.
The guards and soldiers were more determined to carry out Marcas’s orders because it was a testament to his unrelenting rigorous training that they had managed to repel the intruders, and Marcas’s name began to take on a mythic quality.
This was the man who could not be killed by the Calbraiths or by poison, and people started to believe that he could not be killed by anything.
Kirsten found these mutterings amusing and wished it was true.
There were still other matters that had to be taken care of, though, such as dark truths that had to be exposed.
Even in the chaos of battle, there had been witnesses to Roderick’s capture, and there was much speculation about what exactly had happened.
Kirsten’s presence had not gone unnoticed either, and she hoped that everyone who had condemned her before hearing her side of the story was consumed with guilt.
Marcas waited until the celebrations were in full flow before he caught everyone’s attention and told them what had happened.
There were shocked gasps as everyone had been taken in by Roderick’s charm and seeming loyalty to the family, but in the end, he only had loyalty for himself.
Marcas had the man dragged in for everyone to see.
One night in the dungeon and Roderick was already a pitiful sight.
His face was pale, and he snarled at everyone, as though he was a rabid dog.
Marcas held up his hand.
“We have taeday evidence that we must be vigilant and never let our guard down, nae even with people who seem tae hae our best interests at heart. I should hae been more suspicious of ye, Uncle, although perhaps I didnae wish tae see the truth. I hae been trying tae think of what punishment fits yer crimes, although in truth I’m nae sure that any punishment can.
Ye hae plotted against yer kin, and I can think of no greater crime than that.
“We Monroes take pride in our name and legacy. Ye hae gone against that and shattered our honor, thinking only of yerself. I thought about executing ye, but as much as I think the world would be better off without yer kind in it, I cannae bring myself to kill my own blood. I am nae like ye. Sae I hae decided that I am gaeing tae strip ye of yer name and yer ancestry, and exile ye. I will see ye off on a boat, sailing into the unknown. There ye can make whatever life for yerself ye want, but ye can never call yerself a Monroe. That is nae yer right any longer. And if I should ever hear a whisper on the wind that a Monroe is out causing trouble in some foreign land, I’ll bring thunder tae ye.
And if ye should ever come back, well, the dungeon is always waiting. ”
Everyone listened with bated breath at the laird’s judgment.
His face was like stone as he nodded to the guards and released Roderick from his shackles.
Even though Kirsten was pure of heart, she struggled to find any semblance of pity for the man who had plotted to destroy her marriage and break apart her new family.
Roderick had a malevolent look in his eyes as he rubbed his wrists.
He drew himself to his full height and walked away without saying a word, trying to maintain his dignity as he left, but he had none to keep.
He was nothing any longer. He had no clan to call his own.
As soon as Roderick left, Marcas clapped his hands and raised a mug of ale to the crowd.
He instructed the band to strike up a merry tune as he descended into the crowd and started to dance.
He first asked his younger sister to join him, and Moira finally had a smile on her face.
Kirsten was worried about her as she had been pensive all day, but Moira’s mood brightened after Roderick had left, and dancing with her brother was all she needed to be happy.
After he had danced with Moira, Marcas beckoned for Kirsten to join him.
She was not going to refuse this. It was a dance she had been waiting for since their wedding, and now it felt as though they were making up for lost time.
He took her in his arms and whirled her around, proving to be quite agile and a talented dancer.
Kirsten was impressed and pleased when he held her close. She felt so safe in his arms and could not take her gaze away from him. She was lost in the depths of his eyes. A smile flickered on her face.
“What are ye thinking about?” he asked in a low voice, his words almost drowned out by the sound of the tune.
“Just the future, and all the surprises it’s gaeing tae bring,” she said.
“And what surprises might they be?” he asked. Kirsten had a mischievous look on her face as she pulled his head lower so she could whisper a secret into his ear. Marcas was so shocked that he almost let go of her and let her fall to the floor. A wide smile appeared on his face.
“Are ye sure?” he asked.
Kirsten nodded. “I’m gaeing tae see the healer tae make sure, but aye. I’ve always been told that women know these things, and there’s no doubt in my mind.”
Wonder danced in Marcas’s eyes as he looked at her body in awe.
He put his hands around her waist and whisked her through the air, laughing happily.
Kirsten giggled, too, her mind turning to the future and the family they were going to have.
And she found herself hoping that their child would take after his father, for he was a great man.