Chapter 2
“Colina, open the door, lass.” Shaw Gordon banged on the door to his daughter’s chamber, not happy with the fact she hadn’t shown in the great hall for the meal. “Open the door or I’ll be forced to break it down.”
“Da, I dinna think she’s in there,” said his fifteen-year-old son, Donel, rushing down the corridor of Edinvale Castle with his eleven-year-old brother, Leith, at his side.
“Of course, she’s in there,” Shaw grunted, tired of his daughter acting so unruly since the death of his wife four years ago. “Where else would she be?”
“The stableboy told us she left the castle hours ago,” said Leith. “He saddled a horse for her.”
“What?” Shaw spun around. “I’ll have the boy’s head for lettin’ her go. It’s already dark.”
“Dinna be sore at him, Da,” said Leith. “She tricked him just like she tricked the falconer last week into lettin’ her fly the birds.”
“That’s right,” said Donel. “The stableboy thought ye were waitin’ for her or he wouldna have let her leave.”
“I canna believe this!” With one mighty kick of Shaw’s foot, the locked door to the chamber crashed open and hit the wall.
He rushed inside followed by his sons. Sure enough, tied to the bedpost was a string of sheets leading out the open window.
“Get yer horses, we’re goin’ after her,” he told his sons, heading for the door.
Shaw walked briskly to the stable trying to control his temper.
He had a castle to run as well as feuding neighboring clans to deal with.
He didn’t have time to be chasing after the daft girl who was going to get herself killed.
“Open the portcullis and lower the drawbridge,” he shouted, walking past the gate that was already closed for the night.
He rushed into the stable and had just mounted his horse when he heard a call from his brother, Leod, who served as the castle steward.
“Shaw, someone approaches. I believe it might be Colina.”
“It better be.” Shaw dismounted and rushed out to the gate, followed by his sons.
“It’s her,” said Leith. “I can see her plaid blowin’ behind her in the breeze.”
“She’s ridin’ like the devil is on her heels,” Donel pointed out. “Mayhap somethin’s spooked her.”
“Bid the devil, when I’m through with her, she’ll be spooked by her own faither,” said Shaw.
Sure enough, Colina rode over the drawbridge and into the courtyard, stopping abruptly when she saw Shaw standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Da, I’m sorry,” apologized his daughter, dismounting so fast that she fell from her steed and ended up on the ground.
Donel and Leith laughed.
“Stop it!” she said, pushing up to a standing position, trying to catch her breath.
“What’s her punishment?” asked Leith. “Cleanin’ out the stables for a sennight?”
“Nay, make her clean out the garderobes instead,” said Donel, which only made the boys laugh harder.
“Tend to yer chores and see to our horses before ye retire for the night,” Shaw told his boys without turning to look at them.
“We want to stay and hear where she’s been,” protested Leith.
“I said, go!” Shaw’s boys being more obedient than his daughter, turned and headed to the stable mumbling as they left.
“Shall I have the guards raise the drawbridge and close up the gate again?” called out Leod from the gate tower. “Or will ye be leavin’?”
“Close it up,” Shaw ordered. “If no’, the Gunns will be on us like flies on dung. They’ve been raidin’ all the clans in this area lately. I’m probably their worst enemy, so it’s only a matter of time before they come for us.”
“Aye. I’ll tell the guards,” answered Leod.
Shaw looked down to his daughter and shook his head.
“What were ye thinkin’ to be leavin’ here at night – and unescorted?
Ye’re goin’ to get yerself killed, young lady.
Ye’ll no’ only clean out the stables for a sennight as yer punishment, but ye are no’ to leave these castle walls unless I say so.
And if ye do leave, it’ll be only with me or an escort. ”
“Why?” Her hands went to her hips and she squinted her big, brown eyes.
When she acted this way, it only reminded him of his late wife, Alpina.
In the past, he’d sometimes staggered into the castle too far in his cups to stand and Alpina had greeted him with her hands on her hips as well.
Of course, he was much younger at the time and his wife had every reason to be angry with him.
That was before the death of his father when Shaw became chieftain of Clan Gordon and laird of Edinvale Castle.
As laird, he’d never acted so recklessly again.
He was the clan’s leader and also a single father.
He needed to keep his head on straight at all times.
“Ye’re a lassie,” he told her, not really having a better reason. “Now get to bed.” He turned and headed back to the keep with his daughter on his heels. “What were ye doin’ out there to begin with?”
“I was collectin’ mushrooms to make the soup ye like,” she told him, only making him feel worse.
He’d expressed his disappointment earlier that day when he discovered they were out of mushrooms and he wouldn’t get the soup his daughter made him at least once a week.
She was an excellent cook, just like her late mother had been.
Colina had been trying so hard to please him, but it only reminded him of all the things he missed about having a wife.
“I wanted to surprise ye and make the soup tomorrow.”
“Really.” He glanced over his shoulder and kept walking. “So where are the mushrooms? I dinna even see yer bag to collect them. Are ye lyin’ to me? Have ye been sneakin’ out to see a boy? Ye are too young for that.”
“I wasna sneakin’ out to see a boy. And I am no’ too young,” she argued.
“Ye’re only twelve.”
“I’m nearly thirteen,” she protested. “Most girls my age are already married or at least betrothed. When will I be betrothed?”
Shaw didn’t want to think about that. She was his only daughter and he wanted to keep her close. As far as he was concerned, it would be a long time before he even thought of marrying her off to anyone.
“Never mind that. Ye are tryin’ to avoid my question of where ye were.”
“I already told ye. I was out collectin’ mushrooms in the woods. I am tellin’ ye the truth.”
He stopped and turned around, noticing the dirt on her hands and face. Then he saw the rip in her plaid. “What’s this?” He touched the torn piece of cloth. “Did a lad do this to ye? Tell me. Did someone lay a hand on ye?”
“Nay, Da!” She brushed his hand away. “No lads were abductin’ me, no matter what ye think. I dropped the bag of mushrooms and that’s why I dinna have them.”
“Why didna ye pick them up?”
“Because the girl told me to run.”
“Girl? What girl?”
“She had a bow and arrows and was as fierce as any boy. Ye shoulda seen her.” Colina’s eyes lit up in excitement as she relayed her story. “She was afraid of nothin’ and stronger than a man. I want to be like her someday.” She smiled and let out a sigh.
“Ye’re askin’ me to believe a lassie was out alone at night as well as shootin’ a bow and arrow?” He asked instead of accused, giving her every chance to change her story. But she didn’t.
“She was there. I swear. See this?” She excitedly picked up the torn part of her plaid.
“I see it. Dinna think old Nairnie is goin’ to be fixin’ it. She has plaids to weave for the men before winter. Ye’ll fix that yerself, no matter how much ye hate usin’ a needle and thread.”
“Why do I even have to wear this plaid?” she asked. “The girl in the woods was dressed like a warrior. She wore clothes made of leather and animal fur.”
“Stop it, Colina. No lassie dresses like that. Ye’re makin’ up the story. I can tell, because it sounds a lot like the tales of the Vikings I used to tell ye as a child.” He turned around and continued to walk.
“I think she was a Viking, Da.”
“The Norsemen have turned to Christendom. There are no such warriors anymore.”
“She had long, blond braids and a fierce look on her face. I thought she was mean at first but she wasna. She saved me from the men.”
“Men?” His spine stiffened as he turned around. “What men?”
“I – I dinna ken,” she stuttered, shying away from him.
“I didna see them. The girl told me to run and not look back. That’s what I did.
But she was kind. I’ll bet if the men came after me, she woulda shot them with her bow and arrows.
Ye should have seen her bow. It was huge and covered in leather.
On the ends, it had fur, like an animal. That’s all I saw in the dark.”
“I still think ye’re makin’ it up.”
“The arrows were etched with designs and there were colorful feathers attached. It was so sturdy that I couldna even remove it from the tree.”
“There is no lassie with a bow and arrows like ye describe. This is one of yer stories again, Colina. Now go to yer room without dinner. At sunup, I want ye out in the stables shovelin’ dung. Do ye hear me?”
“I wish I woulda stayed with the girl because ye dinna care about me at all,” she shouted. “At least she was kind and concerned if I lived or died. All ye do is accuse me of lyin’ when I’m tellin’ the truth.”
Colina ran off, leaving Shaw standing there wondering what to do.
“She is a feisty one, just like Alpina,” came a voice from the shadows. The old woman, Nairnie, walked out into the moonlight. Her body was bent over and she had a small hump on her back. Her face was wrinkled and her skin withered. Only her eyes seemed to hold any youth at all.
“How long were ye standin’ there?” asked Shaw, embarrassed that the woman had heard their conversation.
She’d been like a grandmother to Shaw when he was a child.
She’d always held such wisdom and mysticism.
Part of it intrigued him, but yet it made him cautious as well.
He’d always thought she was a witch since she’d predicted the deaths of his mother, his father, and also his wife.
“I’ve heard enough to ken the lassie isna lyin’,” she crooned.
“How can ye even say that? Ye heard her daft story about a Viking girl with a bow and arrows out in the woods alone at night. It’s nonsense.
She’s just concoctin’ her wild stories again.
This has gone on too long and needs to stop.
Ever since the death of her mathair, she’ll do anythin’ to get attention. ”
“How do ye ken this isna the truth?” asked the woman.
“Well, for one thing, no lassie would be out by herself at night - unescorted.”
“Oh. Like yer daughter?” The woman smiled, showing her crooked teeth.
Shaw stilled. She had a point and he didn’t like it.
He didn’t like anyone telling him he was wrong.
“Well, what about that story of the bow wrapped in leather and animal fur? And the etched arrows with colored feathers that were so strong she couldna even remove one from the tree? Hah!” He shook his head at the nonsense.
“Yer faither had a bow at one time with leather and animal fur. If I’m no’ mistaken, he had etched arrows with colored feathers too, so it’s no’ impossible.”
“She’s just repeatin’ the stories I told her about the way I helped my da make his bow and arrows from the wood of a rowan tree,” he said, remembering it well.
He’d been close to his father and missed him every day, even now.
He’d been nineteen years of age when his parents died the night of Burnt Candlemas.
He should have been with them at the time but, instead, he’d wanted to stay back at the clan with Alpina as she birthed their son, Leith.
He didn’t regret staying with her, since she was weak and sick.
She’d almost died that night. His strength helped her to recover and pull through.
If only he could have been in two places at once, he would have been there to watch his father’s back when he traveled to Haddington with his mother.
They hadn’t known Edward was planning on pillaging and burning their homeland or they would have prepared for it.
Now, his parents were dead, and the bow and arrows that Shaw had hoped to inherit someday were gone – probably taken by the English bastards who killed them.
“Ye need to talk with yer daughter,” said the old woman.
“There’s naught to say. She did wrong and she’ll be punished for it.”
“Colina’s turnin’ into a young woman before yer eyes and ye dinna even notice.”
“I notice more than ye think, old woman.”
“Then mayhap ye need to talk to her about bein’ a lady and becomin’ a wife.”
Shaw feared the time when he would have to talk to his daughter about bedding a man.
He’d held back the conversation too long and had no wife to do it.
The old woman was right. There were things Colina needed to know.
He had hoped when Nairnie helped to raise her after the death of his wife, that she had covered this conversation.
Now, he could see it wasn’t so. He would have to do it, even if it made him feel uncomfortable.
He could tell his boys anything. But when it came to his daughter, he wanted to protect her and keep her a child forever. If only he could.
“Nay, I willna tell her anythin’,” he said. “That’s a mathair’s job.”
“Do ye want me to talk to the girl and see what kind of feelin’s she is havin’ towards laddies?” asked the old crone.
“Nay!” A shudder went through him. Now that he thought about it, what could an old woman tell a girl of twelve years about anything except weaving? “That is a mathair’s job, like I said.”
“She doesna have a mathair, or have ye forgotten, my laird?”
“How could I forget? Of course, I ken. However, that will change soon.”
“How so?” Nairnie’s eyes seemed to glow in the reflection of the castle torches as she waited for his answer. He felt his throat tighten but knew what he had to do. If he didn’t do it now, it was only going to keep getting more difficult.
“I can see there is only one solution to this problem,” he answered. “I need to get myself another wife.”