Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Annabeth stood in the kitchen of their modest cottage, the smell of dried herbs and simmering broth filling the small space. She was quietly stirring a pot when the sudden knock on the door sent a shiver down her spine.
Claire, sitting by the fire, looked up with a puzzled frown, but it was Annabeth who went to answer it.
As she opened the door, the sight of Kyle, their landlord, filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the fading afternoon sun.
His face was set in a grimace, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at Annabeth with barely concealed disdain.
“Please come in. Would ye like some tea or some of the broth we just made?” Annabeth asked, inviting the landlord in with a cheery smile.
“Tea is fine,” he grumbled as he entered the modest cottage.
Annabeth quickly moved to pour him a cup of tea and set it at the table where Kyle took a seat across from Claire.
“Ye ken why I’ve come today?” Kyle asked as he sipped the hot liquid.
“Aye, I do, and first of all I want to thank ye ever so much for yer patience in helping us. Times are hard, and with Claire’s injury, we—” But before Annabeth could finish, he snapped.
“Yer two months behind on yer rent, Annabeth,” he said gruffly, his voice laced with irritation.
“We’ve been trying our best to come up with what we owe ye; can we ask for a little bit more time?” Claire pleaded.
“I’ve given ye both time already,” Kyle said. “Perhaps if ye have a little to pay now that might work in ye favor. Ye understand?”
Annabeth met his gaze evenly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Aye, I ken, Kyle,” she replied, her voice steady despite the worry creeping into her chest. “But I’ve only enough for half of what ye ask.”
She held out the small bundle of coins she had managed to scrape together, her fingers trembling slightly as she passed it to him. Kyle took the money without hesitation, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.
“This will do for today, lass. But ye’ll need to find the rest if ye want to keep yer roof over yer head,” he said coldly, shoving the coins into his pocket.
He stood up from the table and headed towards the door.
“Two weeks,” Kyle continued, his tone growing colder still. “If ye daenae come up with the rest of it, ye’ll be out.”
Annabeth’s heart sank at the harshness in his words, her stomach tightening. She had been hoping for more time, more coin, but the reality of their situation was as bleak as the weather outside. Her thoughts raced, trying to think of a way to make up the difference.
What if I could get the tailor to give me work? I could sell some dried herb bundles, me clothes. I must do something.
“I’m doing the best I can,” Annabeth said softly, her voice filled with frustration, but also with a quiet dignity. “I’ve been doin’ me best to heal—” She didn’t finish her sentence, knowing it wouldn’t change anything.
Kyle had no patience for excuses, and he had no qualms about taking advantage of their desperate situation.
He looked at her with a mix of pity and scorn before turning to leave. “Aye, well, yer best willnae keep ye warm at night,” he sneered, already turning on his heel.
Annabeth closed the door behind him with a soft sigh, her hand lingering on the handle as she leaned her forehead against the cool wood. Her stomach twisted in knots as the weight of his words pressed down on her chest.
She could feel Claire’s eyes on her from across the room, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her.
The worry in her heart only deepened as she wondered how they would manage.
She had seen the struggle in Claire’s eyes these past weeks—how her once-bright spirit had begun to dim under the weight of their poverty.
Claire finally spoke, her voice small and hesitant, “Annabeth, what will we do now?”
She didn’t need to say more—Annabeth knew what she meant. She thought about what would happen.
What will we do if we can’t make up the rest of the rent in time? Where will we go?
Annabeth smiled, though it was strained, and placed her cup down gently on the table.
“Ye shouldnae worry,” she reassured, her voice warm but firm.
“I'll sort it, I promise ye that. I’ll find a way. I’ll speak to the villagers or take on extra work—whatever it takes.
Ye’ve done enough for me already. Ye’ve always been there, and now, it’s me turn to look after ye. ”
Claire shook her head, her eyes wide with concern. “Annabeth, ye’ve always been there for me, and now, ye say it’s yer turn? Ye’re the one who does all the healing, and ye’ve been lookin’ after me since…” She trailed off, her voice cracking. “I’m the maither here, lass. It shouldnae be like this.”
“Ye’re the best maither I could have ever asked for,” Annabeth replied quietly, her voice tinged with gratitude.
“But ye’ve been in so much pain these past months.
Yer back still gives ye trouble, and ye’ve nay need to strain yerself with the work.
Let me do this, aye? It’s the least I can do for everything ye’ve done for me. ”
Claire squeezed Annabeth’s hands, her eyes filling with a mix of sorrow and love. “Annabeth,” she whispered, “taking ye in when I did was the best decision I ever made. I daenae regret a moment of it, and I never will. Ye’re like me own flesh and blood, lass.”
Annabeth shook her head, her heart full as she gazed at the woman who had raised her.
“Ye daenae need to say that,” she squeezed Claire’s hand in return. “I’ll take care of us, I swear it. I’ll make sure we have enough, and we’ll be fine.”
She meant the words as a comfort, but the truth was she didn’t know how she would do such a thing. It seemed a hopeless situation as her world came to be so fragile on the edge of being out in the streets with nothing.
Claire looked into Annabeth’s eyes with love.
“I just hate seeing ye work so hard, Annabeth. Ye’ve got the heart of a lion, but ye shouldnae have to carry all this on yer own. We’ll find a way, together, aye?”
I daenae want her to have to lift a finger with her back injured, but I ken she will nae back down til I agree.
Annabeth nodded though a small sigh escaped her lips. “Together, aye,” she agreed, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Claire was already carrying more than she should.
For Claire, the woman that took me in and saved me when I had nowhere to turn, I would do whatever it takes, wherever it leads me.
Early the next morning, Annabeth wrapped her shawl around herself and headed into the center of the village. She approached the baker’s stall.
“Mr. Callum, I was wonderin’ if ye might have a need for some help?”
The stout man shook his head regretfully. “Ach, lass, I’d hire ye in a heartbeat if I could, but I can barely keep me own lad’s help these days. Times are tight, ye ken?”
“Yes, of course. Thank ye,” she responded and moved down the lane inquiring at every stall and shop.
“Nae, Annabeth,” the seamstress said before she could finish her inquiry. “I’ve nae enough thread to finish what I’ve got, let alone the coin to take on help. I’m truly sorry, lass.”
She continued on her search as some villagers avoided her altogether, their guilt evident on their faces.
Others, like the cobbler, were rude and snapped, “I’ve nay work nor coin to spare.”
At the blacksmith’s forge, the answer was the same. “Sorry, lass. Times are hard for us all,” he grumbled.
“But I can learn fast. Perhaps I can be an apprentice for some time and…”
“Nay, lass. I have nae the work nor time to spare. I am sorry,” he said. “And with talk of raids spreading across the lands…”
“Raids? What raids?” Annabeth’s eyes grew wide.
“’Tis talk in the village; the McArthur clan is making raids on their farms and villages. I ken we could be next at any moment. These be uncertain times, lass.”
“Thank ye, I should head back home,” she said seeing that the sun moved toward the horizon.
The day turned into evening as Annabeth trudged home feeling defeated. She had inquired at every place she could think of and failed.
Are we safe from these raids? Our cottage is on the outskirts of the village, and travelers usually come across our cottage first, which now could be dangerous.
The heavy feeling pressed down on her as she opened the door to the cottage.
“Any luck, lass?” Claire asked.
“Nay, but perhaps tomorrow will be better,” she replied with a smile, trying to remain hopeful.
“Here have some tea.” Claire handed her a warm cup.
“Thank ye, maither,” she said with a smile.
Annabeth sat back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her teacup.”
“I ken yer worried, but ye will see, guid things have a way of happening in a way ye never imagined,” Claire said.
“I want so much for ye, to care for ye. Ye should nay longer have to work. If there was a way to take yer pain and to give ye a livin’ that’s comfortable for the rest of yer life, I would do it without a thought about it,” Annabeth said.
A sharp rap echoed through the small cottage, and Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat.
“Daenae open it, lass,” Claire said from the other side of the room, her voice laced with unease.
“It’s probably Kyle again, coming to take the shirts off our backs.
He’ll take what he wants, and we’ll have nothing left.
” Annabeth’s chest tightened at the thought.
But before Annabeth could reply, there was a sudden, heavy thud against the door. The noise was so forceful that it shook the frame, causing her to gasp in surprise. For a moment, the two women stared at each other, unsure of what had just happened.
Annabeth’s pulse raced as she stood, her hand trembling as she reached for the door.
“Who—?” she began, but Claire shook her head sharply, her face pale with concern.
There was no time for hesitation; Annabeth swung the door open, only to be met with the sight of an unconscious man slumped against the doorframe.
The man’s body was limp, his face pale, streaked with dirt and blood. His clothes were tattered, and his wounds looked severe, the blood still oozing from them.
Annabeth’s heart raced as she crouched down beside him, her healer’s instincts kicking in despite the shock of the moment.
Who could this man be? He’s gravely injured—too injured, perhaps, to survive without immediate care. Is he from the raids? His life hangs by a thread, and I cannae leave him to die.