Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The Winter Solstice
Winter storms howled at the doors to the castle, like the wolves in the forest who hunted their prey.
The wind screeched through the cracks of the wood as Elayne huddled next to the forge, seeking its warmth.
It sounded like wolves clawing at the door.
Elayne had dressed in layers of wool to remain as warm as possible and wore boys’ trews under her dress.
A blast of icy air blew into the room whenever someone opened the door. Luckily, few people ventured forth today, and Elayne insisted her father remain inside their home since he had a cold. She needed to continue to make swords to have a stockpile when the warriors resumed training.
Elayne was happy the men had returned from their battles, although grief weighed on her heart seeing the sadness and tears of the women who had lost their loved ones.
Elayne had not seen Cailean yet; then again, she had only ever seen him at the loch—nowhere else.
Nae one would venture to the loch in the winter.
Was he injured? When will I see him again?
Elayne was grateful that Mrs. Logan could care for her father when ill, enabling Elayne to continue their work in the forge.
A kind woman, she had gone out of her way to patch Elayne’s dresses.
Causing her embarrassment, most of Elayne’s clothes were patched beyond recognition from the original fabric of the dress.
Even though Elayne wore long gloves, and a leather apron over her clothes, flying embers still burned them, and soot stained them.
In the forge, nae one seemed to pay any attention to Elayne. Her dirtied, patched dress blended in with the soot and the brown worn wood. A scarf hid her hair and held it out of the way while she worked. She kept it braided and tucked under the back of her dress.
Elayne slammed the hammer on the sword that lay across the anvil.
She was determined to make as many swords as possible, not only to meet the laird’s needs but because she planned to ask Mrs. Logan to sell a few of her designs at the summer market, bringing in more money for her father and herself.
Elayne hated to ask her father for anything, especially ashamed to ask for herself, since he had taken her in and given her everything, including the unbelievable opportunity to become his apprentice.
As she grew into a woman, Elayne couldn’t help but wish to buy a pretty colored ribbon to wear in her hair. Working daily in the forge, Elayne didn’t think men would ever notice her.
During the winter, she couldn’t ride as she had over the summer and autumn months.
Elayne missed engaging in conversations with Cailean, who treated her as if she were important, as well as the new books he brought her to read.
She repeatedly read the last one he had given her.
It would be a dark, dreary, and long winter.
The monotony of every day tired her with nothing to look forward to.
The tales Mrs. Logan told of the winter solstice fascinated Elayne. Her father listened intently to the stories over dinner.
“Aye, it was a fun time. We had fortune-telling for the lads and lasses interested in getting married. And we burned yule logs for the solstice through to the new year. All the men chopped down the biggest yule logs to fit in their hearths.”
“It sounds merry and fun,” Elayne said wistfully.
“Oh, it was a fun and gay time. People spent time indoors on projects. By the light of the hearth, men whittled wood while women knitted and sewed. Many stories were told around by the fire during winter nights. The animals spent more time in the pens or barns to stay warm, dry, and fed.
“We celebrated with apples and sixpence. They are placed in a water basin. Both must be pulled without their hands.”
“How could they do that?”
“There are many enterprising lads, especially when they wish to impress a certain girl.” Elayne’s father laughed, recalling the days when, as a young lad, he had joined in these games.
William recognized how much Elayne had missed by making her work for him.
Young yet, he hoped his daughter would participate when a few years older.
“The person who retrieved the apple cut it into nine pieces, and eight of those pieces were eaten. For the ninth piece, they made sure to have their back to a looking glass. They looked over their left shoulder at it, then flung the ninth piece of apple across the same shoulder, and the image of their future spouse would appear in the looking glass.”
“What else did ye do?”
“A ring was hidden in a meal of milk and porridge. Spoons were handed to those interested in playing. Lasses eagerly attacked the large bowl, hoping to be the first to capture the ring. Whoever obtained the ring first would be the first married.”
“Do ye believe these things are true?” asked Elayne in all earnestness.
“Aye, I do. I met my future husband as a young girl, when I contemplated marriage at the winter solstice in our clan. Ye can never tell. Anything is possible. Ye have a few years to wait to become a bride.”
Elayne had never heard about these festivities. And she looked forward to when she might take part in the fun. Old enough to become a bride. Would Cailean participate?
Even if she wasn’t the right age to participate yet, Elayne wished to watch other lads and lasses engage in the merriment, but then she had nothing presentable to wear.
She yearned to wear a pretty dress. Therefore, she needed to sell many dirks.
Elayne ate her dinner and dreamed of the future with new opportunities.
The snowstorm continued unabated, and the wind lashed at the shutters, hitting them against the wood of the forge.
Elayne hoped they made enough money on the sale of their swords to purchase more wood to shore up the worn timbers so it would be warmer inside the forge next year.
The wind huffed its icy breath and blew with long, moaning sighs, making the wood and the rusty hinges creak.
A couple of chickens lived inside the forge, and they clucked in consternation over the wind that crept in.
The wind’s icy breath lingered in the drafty room.
Elayne wore gloves with the tips of the fingers cut off.
It enabled her to hold securely to the metal as she hammered it into shape.
By dawn, the swords were cold to the touch.
Each morning, she searched the forge to find the eggs wherever the chickens had laid them.
Even though they had a coop, they often laid them close to the forge, enjoying its heat.
The previous summer, she encountered the healer. Elayne took the opportunity to try to get help for her father. “His eyes are tired by looking into the scorching fire daily as he works. Can I give him a plant or tonic to help him?”
“Be sure he eats plenty of carrots and eggs to help improve his eyesight. In the meantime, I’ll make a tonic for him, and he can try it.
Come to my cottage on Wednesday, and I will give it to ye then.
It may give him more energy so his eyes do not tire.
The work is arduous. I get a headache thinking about all the noise from hammering the metal. ”
During the summer, when fresh carrots were readily available, she asked Mrs. Logan, “Please purchase carrots each week from the market and fix them for dinner for Papa, as he especially likes them.” Her father’s eyesight had improved, and his eyes felt less tired since taking the tonic, which made Elayne happy since her father worked so hard.
Many people took Sunday off from work, but she and her father did not.
Too many warriors and people who lived in the surrounding villages and glens needed their swords, dirks, or services to repair a work tool or iron wheel.
Now, in the middle of winter and before the solstice, Elayne toiled over the hot coals of the burning fire and recalled the pine scents of the forest, the cool sparkling water of the loch against her hot skin in the summer, and a pair of smoky-gray eyes that gazed at her intently.
No time for daydreams, Elayne told herself sternly.
Ye have work to do. Yer father would berate ye if ye take too long.
The clan counted on them and they could-n’t fall behind on their work.
Nae matter that she worked long hours after her father did.
He needed to rest his eyes and protect his eyesight.
Elayne hammered, pounded, and beat the hot iron on the anvil, shaping it into the desired dimensions.
Today, she pounded nails. Their inventory was low, and she was better suited to using her skills in crafting nails whereas her father, with his massive arms, beat the iron to make ax heads, hammers, and other tools.
Most days, Elayne enjoyed working and creating items from scratch.
She preferred making things by hand from beginning to end rather than repairing tools.
Sweat dripped from her brow. Elayne removed her glove for a moment, took a cloth from her pocket, and wiped the sweat, soot, and grime from her face before resuming work.
Elayne spoke to her father and Mrs. Logan about selling more items at the summer market and the fair. People from other clans visited the castle for the summer fair.
“What do ye think, Mrs. Logan? Do ye have linens to sell, along with a few of my father’s tools, nails, and dirks?”
“I think it is a marvelous idea, Elayne. Yer father is such a masterful blacksmith; I believe he should command higher prices at the summer fair. William’s tools and yers are high quality and last for years.
I have linens to sell, and I would happily sell yer items if yer father approves.
” Mrs. Logan’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect.
“If yer willing, Mrs. Logan, that would be a fine idea,” her father said.
“Elayne needs new dresses. It is doubtful her present clothing will even last until spring.”