Chapter Five B #2
“If you have only just arrived, then you do not know much of this place,” she said.
He shook his head. “Not much, only that it will be my home for the next seven years.”
He sounded rather dismal. Wanting to be amusing, she started chattering nervously. “Sir Clegg is a great student of Ancient Rome,” she said. “That is why everything is given a Roman name—Caelian Hill, Fields of Mars, and so on.”
“He told me the castle was a gift from the king.”
She nodded eagerly. “It was,” she said. Then, she paused, looking him over for a moment; he was quite handsome with short, golden hair and a square jaw.
He was a big man, too, with muscular arms and a broad chest. There wasn’t anything she could see that was unattractive about him, and that made her inherently curious. “What is your name, Highlander?”
“Cam.”
“Where are you from?”
A place that seems a million years away now. “I’m from a small village in the Highlands.”
There was a faraway look to his eye when he said it, as if mulling over the memories of such a place. Amalda didn’t want to lose her audience so she continued her nervous conversation.
“I have been here for four years,” she said.
Cam eyed her. “Four years?” he repeated. “Ye must have been a bairn when ye came here. How old are ye?”
Amalda sat up straight, as if trying to make herself look taller and more grown up. “I am of age, my lord.”
“How did ye come here?”
Suddenly, she didn’t seem so tall or grown up.
She slouched, averting her gaze. “I came with my mother,” she said quietly.
“We came from Berwick after my father died because someone told my mother that there was work here. So, we came, but mother died of a fever shortly after we arrived. Sir Clegg said I could remain as long as I made my way.”
“As a lupa?”
She shrugged. “Not at first,” she said, seemingly ashamed. “That came… later. There was more money in it and I need the money.”
“Why?”
She looked at him, then. “Because I want to go home someday. I want to become a seamstress and open my own stall. But I need money to do that.”
Cam was coming to see that the girl was perhaps in similar circumstances as he was.
To her, The Cal was a means to an end, just as it was for him.
At least she was open about it. He couldn’t fault her that.
Perhaps it made him feel a little less sorry for himself, a little less uncertain about what he was doing.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had come to The Cal to do what was necessary.
He could feel himself relenting toward her, just a little.
“I am sorry if I was rude tae ye,” he said. “But I have no need for a comfort woman. Mayhap… mayhap just someone tae converse with so the days willna seem so lonely.”
Her smile turned real. “I can talk the ear off of a stone statue,” she said, giggling. “At least, my mother used to say so. I’d much rather talk than do… well, you know… than give comfort. I fear I am not very good at it.”
Cam shrugged. “Ye seemed tae know what ye were doing when ye walked in. I barely said a word tae ye before ye were throwing off yer clothes.”
She snorted. “Had I been very good at it, you would not have turned me away.” Quickly, she sobered. “Thank you for not forcing me to leave. I am indebted, my lord. I wish to do what I am ordered to do. I do not wish to fail.”
He smiled a lopsided grin. “I dinna turn ye away because ye werena enticing,” he said. But his smile faded. “I turned ye away because… I had a wife. She is still my wife, in my heart. That is all I’ll say about it.”
Amalda seemed to be hanging on his words but to her credit, she didn’t press him about his wife. Young as she was, she seemed to have some tact.
“I envy you,” she said. “To have someone you loved so much. Does… does Wendell know?”
Cam shrugged. “I’ve made it no secret,” he said. “My wife is the reason I’m here. But I should tell Wendell so he doesna keep sending ye tae me.”
Amalda’s expression turned hopeful. “If he does send me to you, then all I have to do is talk to you. Would… would that be acceptable? I can tell you about the camp and about the people here. To be forced to entertain someone who only wants to talk would be most appealing because since my mother died, I really have no one to talk to. The other women do not like me very much, so my time here has been quite lonely. It would be nice to have someone to talk to.”
Cam was starting to feel quite sorry for the girl. At least he was a grown man, and he’d had his time with Tira, a wonderful time with the woman he loved. But Amalda was so young. She’d not had a chance to grow up to be loved and cherished.
“I will tell Wendell ye gave me much comfort,” he said. “When ye come again, we can talk about whatever pleases ye.”
Amalda’s face lit up. “I would like that.”
Cam poured the wine in the pitcher into a cup on the tray and handed Amalda the cup. “Share a drink with me, my young friend,” he said. “I am happy tae have met ye.”
Amalda beamed, drinking down the spiced wine and coughing because she drank it too fast. That caused Cam to laugh, the first laugh to have crossed his lips in months.
Somehow, sitting in this strange cottage, in this strange complex, with a young woman who was as lonely as he was, didn’t make him feel so alone, after all.
In just a brief conversation, Amalda had given him more comfort than she would ever know.
For the first time in months, he’d found a bit of innocent human warmth.
It gave him the strength, in some small way, to face what would come.
But when she finally left him and he lay down to sleep, the first real and safe rest he’d had in months, something disconcerting happened.
Screaming…
Fire…
Heart pounding, Cam found himself running. Suddenly, he was back in Netherton, running toward the sounds of screams. All he could think about was getting to Tira, of protecting her.
He had to make it home.
But he paused in his flight to look around him. Undulating fire, bright shades of orange and yellow, surreal as it burned up to the sky.
Even the sky was on fire.
Coughing. There was smoke everywhere.
God, what is happening?
Fear filled him. His heart was beating faster.
Cam started to run again, running along an avenue and veering around the bodies that were strewn in his path.
They weren’t even bodies as much as they were simply heaps of ashes.
But as fast as his feet were moving, he didn’t seem to be gaining any ground.
The road was stretching out before him and the faster he ran, the longer the road became.
But then, he could see it—his small cottage in the distance, the one he’d built with his own hands.
His breathing began to come in panicked gasps now.
When next he realized, he was in front of his home, rushing toward the door only to see something lying in the dirt several feet away.
He came to such an abrupt halt that he slid in the dirt and lost his balance.
Falling to his knees, he crawled toward the lifeless figure, half covered in clumps of earth because the garden all around it had been torn up.
He clawed his way toward the body in the dirt.
When he came within a foot or so of it, he could see the long, blonde hair.
He could see half of Tira’s face as she lay in the garden she so loved.
There was blood.
Oh, God…
Awaking with a start, Cam sat up for the rest of the night.