Chapter 8
As soon as Callan left Nora and Ellie, Alison was there, as though she had been lying in wait for him. There had always been something of a hunter about her, he supposed. When she set her sights on something she wanted there were few things that could stop her from getting it.
A smile shone on her ruby lips, but there was annoyance in her eyes.
She tried to mask it, but Callan knew her better than that.
She touched his arm, an act of possessiveness, as though he was property to claim.
She stood in a way that accentuated her figure, tempting him, reminding him of the supple pleasure that awaited him whenever he wanted to take it.
Yet somehow he did not feel in the mood, and although he would not say it outright because it would have been incredibly rude, Alison did not seem as alluring as usual. It was as though a brighter star had appeared in the sky, and his gaze naturally drifted towards that.
“If it is nae the mysterious stranger,” Alison purred.
“Stranger? I hae nae been that for a long time,” he replied.
“I would nae be tae confident of that. It hae been a while since we hae spent any time taegether. I warned ye that my bed would get cold, although apparently ye are nae suffering the same problem,” Alison replied.
The smile faded from her face and a waspish expression pinched her features. Her words became imbued with bitterness and her fingers pressed deeper into his skin.
“It looks as though ye need a healing hand. She’s clearly too rough with ye,” she reached up, touching his swollen lip.
Instinctively, Callan grabbed her hand and pushed it away.
“There’s a dead guard tae thank for that. Naething is gaeing on between me and that lass. I’m just helping her out, is all.”
Alison arched a skeptical eyebrow. “And when did ye start helping people?”
“I’ve helped Ellie out for years.”
“Aye, but that’s different. Ellie isn’t a stranger. This lass… I’m sure ye are getting rewarded for yer help. I just dinnae think ye would stray from me sae easily. Or are ye just trying tae make me jealous?” she said, stepping closer to him.
She tilted her head back and widened her eyes, pressing her chest forward.
Her breasts squeezed against him and it would have been so easy and natural to place his hand around her waist, as he had done so many times before.
However, this time something held him back.
He was acutely aware that Nora might have been watching, and for some reason that he couldn’t place, he didn’t want her to see him with Alison.
“I thought ye were beyond jealousy, Alison. And ye should be, because it’s nae a good look. If ye’ll excuse me, I hae somewhere tae be,” he said and pushed past her.
Alison looked shocked and called to him from behind his back. “Ye dinnae get tae walk away from me like that, Callan! I’m nae gaeing tae wait for ye tae drift intae town. I will nae hae ye choose anyone over me.”
Callan didn’t bother turning to face her.
He didn’t need the strife. Better to go to the village and clear his head.
It wasn’t a long walk, and thankfully Alison would never have shamed herself by chasing after him, so he didn’t have to worry about that.
Nor did he worry about leaving Nora with Ellie.
If anyone could help Nora feel better, then Ellie could.
After all, she had helped Callan a long time ago.
He pushed the thoughts away, hating to think of himself as the boy he used to be.
The market stalls were lively, but some people were too rowdy for their own good. He noticed a MacPherson guard shoving a small boy into the mud. Nothing out of the ordinary unfortunately.
“That’ll teach ye tae steal,” the guard cried, his words slurred so much that it was easy to tell he was drunk. The boy cried out as he tried to push himself up.
“I dinnae steal! I dinnae ken what ye are talking about!”
He could have been no more than ten.
“Ach, dinnae talk back tae me or I’ll take ye tae the Keep. I’ll throw ye in the dungeons and then we’ll see what happens. It’s hanging for a thief, last I checked,” the guard growled.
The boy started to wail. He put his hands up and kept protesting his innocence, but the guard wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed the boy’s arms and then shoved him against the wall.
Callan had seen enough. Rage blinded him and he strode forward. He grabbed the guard by the scruff of the neck and hauled him back.
“Leave,” he growled to the boy, who didn’t think twice.
He scampered away while Callan dragged the guard down an alley.
“Get yer hands off me! What dae ye think ye are daeing? It’ll be a hanging for ye too! I’ll hang the both of ye,” the guard cried.
“Ye aren’t hanging anyone. I dinnae ken how many people hae suffered at yer hands, but I’m gaeing tae make sure that nae others dae. Ye dinnae deserve tae call yerself a guard,” he said, then stepped away.
The guard laughed, but upon his face was a grisly snarl. “Ye want a fight? Aye, I’ll give ye a fight,” he said, lashing out with his hand.
It struck Callan’s swollen lip and opened up a cut. But then the guard stumbled, his left leg giving out beneath him. A look of surprise came upon his face, and then he clutched his stomach. He raised his palm. It was covered in blood. It was only then that he noticed Callan holding the dagger.
“Ye are already dead,” Callan said quietly, emotionlessly.
He stood there and watched as the guard tried to summon strength that he did not possess. He tried to stand, but he only fell. When he lunged towards Callan he ended up face down in the mud. Still fingers stretched upon Callan’s boots, and blood pooled beneath him.
Callan exhaled deeply, thinking about the question Nora asked him.
How could ye do this so easily?
It was necessity. How many other children would be tormented by this man?
The world was better off without him in it, and Callan had learned a long time ago that he had to be as merciless as the world.
Perhaps all the lives he had taken would count against him when the gods judged him, but he never killed because he enjoyed it.
He never took delight in others’ pain. He never prolonged their suffering.
When he did kill, he killed as quickly as possible, and he bore the weight of it on himself so that others didn’t have to.
That boy, for instance, might have harbored revenge in his heart and sought to kill the guard.
Now he didn’t have to, and he could hopefully live a calmer life than the one that might have waited for him otherwise.
Callan reached down and performed the last tasks, ripping the swollen coin pouch away from the guard’s limp body.
He dragged the guard far down the alley and then left the body where it would probably be found hours later.
When Callan emerged from the alley he took a moment to reflect upon what he had done, and then as soon as the sole of his boot touched the ground he was grinning again, leaving the shadows of the alley behind.
Alison wasn’t there when he returned, but Nora was waiting in the kitchen, sharing tea with Mrs. Peters. Callan dropped the coin pouch in front of Ellie.
“There ye gae, ye can buy some food for the bairns. Looks like ye are gaeing tae need it as the boys are getting big and strong,” he said.
He noticed how Nora stared at the pouch just before Ellie swiped it in her hands. Then, Nora turned to him. “Ye are bleeding.”
Callan dabbed his lip and saw the blood.
“Aye, bumped intae someone. It was my fault. I was nae looking where I was gaeing,” he said smoothly.
Ellie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “One of these days, Callan, ye really need tae think about settling down,” Ellie said, staring meaningfully at Nora.
Perhaps in another life, Callan thought. In this one he had grander plans than marriage. There was a hacking cough from elsewhere in the house. Ellie hurried away, leaving Callan and Nora alone.
“We’d better get gaeing. There might be a long journey ahead,” Callan said, exiting the house without waiting for Nora to follow.
Nora had no idea what to think when Callan returned. The exchange of coin happened so swiftly that she couldn’t tell for certain, but she believed Laird MacPherson’s insignia had been etched into the pouch. She wasn’t sure she believed Callan’s story about bumping into someone as well.
Nora followed him outside and mounted the horse, still not used to the feeling that swept around her whenever she settled beside him. They started to ride, the road long and winding ahead of them.
“Ellie seems nice, she clearly cares about others,” Nora said.
“Och aye, she took it upon herself tae help orphans a long time ago. She lost a child of her own, and she swore that as long as she lived she would dae all she could tae take care of those who were in need.”
“She never said that, although she did tell me about ye.”
“I’m sure she did,” Callan breathed.
“Ye could hae told me.”
“It’s nae something I like sharing. It happened a long time ago, and I was just a lad.”
“I’m sorry it happened.”
“I dinnae need pity, lass,” he spat without thinking.
Nora looked over her shoulder and frowned. “I’m only trying tae be kind,” she said.
Callan exhaled deeply. The warm breath rolled over her shoulders, making her shiver.
“Aye, that ye are. I just… I dinnae like talking about those days. I wish Ellie hae nae said anything. It happened, and that’s all.”
Nora decided to keep quiet, not wishing to incur his wrath again. It was another layer to the mystery of him, though, this trauma that lay beneath his assured surface. Perhaps he wasn’t as in control of life as he liked to portray.
They rode on for a little while when he spoke again, breaking the silence that stretched between them.
“The land burned. The fire spread too quickly for us tae stop. We stood outside the house, watching it burn, watching everything… It was terrible. Ma and Da dinnae stop coughing. The fire burned for longer inside them and eventually claimed their lives. By the time they died they might as well hae been breathing ash. I was alone, and Ellie took me in. I worked hard, and that’s the end of it.
Now ye ken, and there’s naething more tae say. ”
Nora noticed how the pace of the horse increased. Callan’s grip tightened, and she could feel his body growing tense behind her. She thought of him as a boy, faced with this impossible pain and her heart went out to him.
What tragedy, what trauma! To lose his home and his parents in such a short space of time…
It was no wonder that he chose to live alone.
He had lost everything once, he might well fear losing anything else he cared about.
The pain had shaped him, carved him by chipping away all the softness and innocence in the world.
He was different from her. She was still soft, still naive.
There had never been any hardship to shape her.
Childhood had been spent in complete bliss, ignorant of the terror of the world.
It was only in recent years, when her brother had taken the Lairdship, that she realized how cruel the winds of fortune could be.
What would she have been like had she been in Callan’s shoes? Would she have been able to rise again or would she fall into grief at the death of her parents? She feared she was not strong enough to endure such a miserable fate.
Nora had failed all the tests that came her way.
Callan had saved her twice now, and she did not want there to be a third time.
There were many years yet to pass, and she did not believe they would be without incident.
Callan wouldn’t be there all the time. She never wanted to be in a situation like she was with Brune again.
Nora wanted to be strong.
Nora wanted to be able to defend herself.
The sense of weakness and shame trembled inside her, transforming into intent. She just wasn’t quite sure where to begin, but she could not remain as she was. She could not be a passive participant in her own life, meekly waiting to see what might happen next.
While these thoughts swirled through her mind Callan pointed out a residence on the horizon. The house was wide and tall. Banners fluttered in the wind, and high stone walls surrounded the house. Farmers tilled fields outside, and birds crowed as they swooped around in circles.
Nora’s heart caught in her throat as she rode to meet her future. Thinking about her clan did not quite help in the efforts to push away her fear, but she thought that perhaps when she became Lady MacPherson there might be a metamorphosis in more than just her name.