Chapter 15
Fergus and James walked among the McDougal clansmen who were readying themselves for battle, one which might determine the final outcome of the war, for good or ill.
The faces of the soldiers were pale and grim as they saddled their horses and sharpened their blades.
Most of them remained silent, their eyes haunted and dark as they contemplated the grisly fates which might await them when the Wallaces arrived.
However, Fergus could hear a few of them mumbling under their breath, offering up prayers for their own safety or that of their comrades, or simply telling their deceased loved ones that they would likely be joining them soon.
The overall mood was so somber as to be downright funereal, which suited Fergus since he felt much the same.
“This is madness,” Fergus grumbled. “Madness and folly. How can the old man nae see it for himself?”
“He has never seen much beyond the narrow confines of his own mind,” James replied.
“I have always appreciated the fact that ye are able tae see significantly farther and more clearly than he can in most matters. It gives me hope that one day, our clan might be ruled by one who is just, fair, and balanced, instead of a raving lunatic.”
“If we all live tae see such a day come tae pass,” Fergus muttered darkly. “From the look of things, that appears tae be rather unlikely, doesn’t it? Somethin’ must be done aboot this and quickly before our father destroys everythin’ our ancestors worked so hard tae build.”
“There is far more tae it than that, I fear,” James said.
Fergus frowned. “What dae ye mean?”
James took a deep breath, clearly dreading Fergus’ reaction to what he was about to say. “Father is rapidly losin’ patience with the lass.”
“Losing patience?” Fergus couldn’t believe his ears. “She’s only just arrived, fer heaven’s sake! Did he expect her tae agree tae his terms immediately?”
“He did, aye,” James affirmed with a nod, “because as ye say, he is a mad old goat who expects the whole world to bow down before him without the slightest hesitation. It is why he has grown so much more difficult tae deal with in recent years, I think. The Wallaces’ refusal tae lay down and die before his continued onslaughts have perplexed and frustrated him, drivin’ his mind deeper into the abyss which had already begun tae swallow him years ago. ”
“Very well, so he is losin’ patience,” Fergus said. “What does he intend tae do? Toss her in the dungeons again? I shouldn’t wonder…”
“Nay, I’m afraid it is far worse than that,” James interrupted. “He means tae have her cut to pieces so that he can use the maimed and severed parts of her tae taunt her father and brothers when they arrive.”
Fergus felt his entire body go cold and numb with the shock of James’s words.
“What bloody sense is that supposed tae make? He said before that he meant tae ransom her, then he meant for me tae marry her and give her a child, and now he says he intends tae butcher her? How is that goin’ tae help us win this battle, or the war? ”
“Ye keep seekin’ rational explanations for the words and actions of a madman,” James answered patiently. “There are none tae be found. He is driven insane by his rage and frustration, and in such a state, he is capable of anythin’, as ye well ken, from the many bitter lessons of our childhood.”
Yes, Fergus supposed that was true enough. The insults and beatings he had spent much of his life receiving had not come from a man who was well-acquainted with reason.
“So what am I tae do?” Fergus asked. “I went tae her earlier, and although she was perhaps nae as hostile toward me as she might have been, she still didnae seem inclined tae settle the matter by agreein’ tae wed.”
“Then ye must visit her again,” James insisted, “and try harder. Ye must do and say whatever it will take for her tae say aye. Fer her sake, and fer all of our sakes.”
“As simple as that, eh?” Fergus asked sardonically.
“I make nay claim whatsoever that the matter will be simple,” James retorted.
“I imagine it will be difficult indeed. I should think it would be far simpler, however, than bein’ ordered tae chop up a woman ye have grown tae care for.
And I think ye ken full well that Father will demand ye be the one who does the deed, tae punish you. ”
“Nay, nae tae punish me,” Fergus let out a humorless laugh. “Tae make me stronger, remember? Tae make me more worthy tae succeed him as laird. That’s the only reason he does anythin’, as he’s so fond of remindin’ me.”
James put his hands on Fergus’ shoulders. “Do what ye must tae convince her, Brother. And do it quickly.” He gestured to the soldiers around them. “It would appear as though none of us have any time left tae waste.”
Fergus went directly to the tower where Darina was being held. He unlocked the door, entered, and found her sitting on the bed. It appeared as though she had been staring out the window, lost in thought, but when he came in, she gave him a mild frown of disapproval.
“At least yer sister had the decency tae knock before enterin’,” she informed him archly. “I could have been asleep or in some state of undress. Nay doubt that last would have pleased ye, at any rate.”
Fergus felt a blush creep into his face.
“Ye are right, of course. I should have extended that courtesy, and I apologize fer nae doin’ so.
” He hesitated, then added, “I would promise tae do so in the future, but it seems as though we might be robbed of the chance for another visit such as this one.”
“Do ye mean tae say that my father and brothers shall soon be comin’ tae my rescue?” There was a bitter irony in her tone, which said that she did not much expect them to succeed in the endeavor.
“We might nae even have that long if my father loses his temper before then. Somethin’ he is rather famous fer doin’, it must be said.” Then something occurred to him. “Ye say Freya has been here tae see ye?”
“She has, aye.”
“What was her business with ye? She should nae have been…” He stopped himself.
She raised an eyebrow. “Consortin’ with prisoners? Is that what ye meant tae say?”
“It was a foolish thought and nae worth uttering aloud,” he affirmed. “Even so, that lass rarely does anythin’ without a reason.”
“Her reason, it seemed, was tae plead yer case for ye. She assured me that ye are, fundamentally, a good man who has had a difficult and painful life at the hands of yer father.”
Fergus chuckled grimly. “Aye, that’s true enough. I have rarely received a scar in battle, but I have plenty from his punishments.”
“Show me, then.”
Her words stopped him short. “I beg yer pardon?”
She folded her hands in front of her primly. “Ye say ye bear the marks of yer unhappy childhood. I wish tae see them.”
“Why?” he scowled. “What possible good would that do?”
“Tae ken whether she was tellin’ the truth and whether ye are.
Tae get some understandin’ of yer background so that in doin’ so, I can achieve a better understandin’ of who ye are.
Ye have repeatedly asked me tae accept that ye are a better man than the knave who abducted me from my home under orders from his father.
Well, I would like tae see the proof of that. ”
Fergus was about to protest, to tell her that baring his body to demonstrate his scars would be improper behavior in the chamber of a lady, to say the least, especially one who was being held captive.
Then he remembered James’ admonishment: Do whatever it takes tae convince her, and end this insanity before it dooms us all.
“If that is what ye wish,” he conceded, opening his tunic. “Very well.”
He shrugged off the garment and stood before her, naked from the waist up. His considerable muscles gleamed faintly in the waning daylight, and the marks of his childhood were clearly visible.
“That,” he said, pointing to a scar on his chest, “was from the time I did nae agree with my father quickly enough. He seized a candelabra and threw it at me. The candles left these burns, and the healers said that two of my ribs were broken. I was ten years old.”
Darina did not say anything.
“Or here,” he went on, tapping another such mark high on his right arm. “He grabbed me and threw me against a suit of armor, which cut into my arm. I lost quite a lot of blood that day, and all because I asked too many questions aboot how much we tax the farmers durin’ winter. Shall I go on?”
“Nay,” she replied, shaking her head and taking a few steps toward him. “I believe I understand now.”
And then, improbably, she leaned forward and kissed him.