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KANNAK COULD NOT HAVE been happier. Andrina was full of gossip and while the younger girls went off to gather heather to mix with the river clay her mother went to fetch, the older girls began to fill baskets with rocks.
“He be handsome enough, I suppose,” said Kannak. “But Stefan grows more awkward by the moment. Mother says he be growing and all boys become ungainly when they dinna realize their size.”
“‘Tis true, my brothers are the same.”
“When do they grow out o’ it? I sometimes fear Stefan will trample me.”
“When they stop growing. Awkward or not, Stefan be almost as handsome as...”
Kannak put a rock in her basket and then tested the weight to see if it was getting too heavy. “As who?”
“I best not say.”
“Why not? I would not tell even if I had other friends.”
“Do ye pledge it?”
“Of course.” She added two more rocks and decided it was heavy enough.
Andrina leaned a little closer. “William be the most princely lad I have ever seen.”
“William? The William who lives just east o’ us?” She waited for Andrina to lift her basket and together they carried them back to where Jirvel was digging a hole in which to mix the clay with water. Already the younger girls had gathered a full basket of heather to mix in the mortar. They dumped the rocks in a pile and went back.
“Do ye know him, William I mean?” asked Andrina.
“Not well, but I have seen him often. He seems pleasant enough.”
“I think so too. I have not yet had occasion to talk with him much. Come to think o’ it, I have not talked to him at all.”
“Why not?”
“I dinna know precisely. It would help if he was our direct neighbor, but ye live between us, ye see. I did catch him looking at me during the festival, but he did not approach.” Andrina tossed several more rocks in her basket and then stood up to stretch her back.
“Is that how it be done? The lad approaches the lass he hopes to marry?”
“How else is he to know if she has a soft enough voice or if she smells. A lad does not like a lass who smells, ye know.”
Kannak had never thought of that reason to keep clean and decided she would take more care of her personal grooming in the future, just in case Jirvel ever let her marry, which she doubted would be any time soon...if ever. “What do they talk about when a lad approaches?”
Andrina giggled. “I have only been approached once. It was Friseal and he asked if I was a good cook. I did not like him, so I shook my head and he went away. My father glared at me for the rest o’ the day.”
“Yer father wishes ye to marry?”
“He wishes us all to marry and quickly, save the brothers. He has too many mouths to feed and no wife. But ye dinna see my meaning.”
“Meaning o’ what?”
“Macoran dinna let a lass choose, but if she be very, very wise, she can do the choosing anyway. All she need do is be pleasing to the lad she wants and...”
“Addlebrained to the one she dinna want?”
“Or worse if need be. She might laugh too loud or too often, whisper so he cannae hear her, or I dinna know...there must be many ways to discourage him.”
*
IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL glen that marked the last of the Macoran land and at the end was a vast holding filled with sheep, cattle and horses. A couple of Macoran guards sat their horses at the edge of the land and kept watch for strangers and visitors. The dirt road was wide enough for a cart and the large cottage was surrounded by flowers. “He sees to all this by himself?” Stefan asked.
“Macoran sends lads to help when ‘tis needed, but mostly Blair cares for it himself. I would like to see Andrina living in such a fine home. Since our mother passed, she has carried a heavy load. Come, we will meet him and ye can help me decide.”
They spent an hour with Blair, but it was apparent he still mourned his wife and was not ready to have another. Even so, Stefan had another new friend and he liked the man very much. Blair had a love for animals and children, the same as Stefan.
On the way back, they next visited Fergus. He was unmarried and he too kept his place well cared for growing wheat and oats mostly. But his cottage was smaller than Jirvel’s and when Diarmad suggested he build a new one, Fergus was offended. The boys quickly crossed him off their list as too quick to anger.
There were other farms, but those men were married and as they rode the path, Diarmad and Stefan simply nodded and continued on. On the village side of Jirvel’s land lived William and Colin whom they visited respectively. They too were pleasant and Stefan could not find fault with either of them. Both were young, hardworking, not taken to drink and friendly. How would they ever choose? It appeared matchmaking was not as easy as they supposed. One thing was stuck in Stefan’s mind and it galled him – why was Jirvel’s land so run down compared to the others? Did no one care to help all these years, even her neighbors?
*
AS SOON AS MACORAN spotted Stefan riding into the village he grew concerned. Hiding it well, he stood on the landing with his hands clasped behind his back and waited until the young boys approached. “Good day to ye, laddies.” He watched them nod and then had to know, “Is something amiss?”
“We have come to ask if ye want Jirvel’s cow bred,” Diarmad blurted out.
“‘Tis Jirvel’s cow, ask her.”
“Ask a lass?”
“Ah, I see yer meaning. Let me say this then. I cannae be at hand always and I trust Stefan to do the right thing. If he happens to seek Jirvel’s advice on a matter or two, so be it.”
Diarmad found it very perplexing. Never had he heard of asking a lass’s advice on a matter such as this. But if he suspected something, he held his words. “So be it.”
“Have ye eaten?” When both shook their heads, he smiled. “Nor have I. Perhaps ye might share a bite with me and tell me all the news.”
Diarmad was excited. Until now, he believed he was not yet old enough to be invited inside and especially not for a meal. He dismounted, let another man take his horse away as though he was an honored guest and followed Stefan up the stairs.
The two-story home of Laird Macoran was spacious and clean. It had a kitchen in the back, a stone staircase, a balcony leading to four bedchambers and a large great hall that took up most of the bottom floor. With a stone hearth at one end, the great hall was well furnished and held a polished long table and several high backed chairs.
A great hall was often a place to show off the clan’s wealth and if not, the hunting or battle skills of their laird. As soon as he was inside, Stefan spotted an array of confiscated Viking weapons and at first pretended not to notice.
But Diarmad was entranced and slowly walked down the wall examining each article, so Stefan felt he should as well. He hoped he would not recognize any of them but the latest addition to the collection was his father’s shield. It was all he could do not to gasp, but he held his face stoic and swore he would have that back someday. At least his father’s sword was not among the prizes. The old ways of the Vikings demanded a man’s sword be buried with him to take into the next life.
Diarmad came across a weathered rod with several leather strips attached to it, “What be this, Laird Macoran?”
“‘Tis a whip used for flogging by the Romans. Blair found that when he dug his fruit cellar. I dinna believe the Romans made it this far into Scotland, but there’s the proof. Wretched looking thing, is it not?”
Stefan expected Macoran’s wife and sons to join them, but they were nowhere in sight. “Is yer wife unwell?”
“Nay, she prefers to keep to her bedchamber.” He glanced up at a partially closed bedchamber door and frowned. “Take no offense, laddies. ‘Tis me she hates.”
Macoran motioned for each to sit on opposite sides of the table and then sat down at the head. He patiently waited for the servers to bring more food and extra bowls before he spoke again. “As I recall Diarmad, ye have not been in my company since ye got caught throwing rocks at...”
“Rosa,” Diarmad put in. “I recollect it as though it were yesterday. Ye tanned my backside and then my father burned a hole clean through it when he got me home.”
Macoran laughed. “Ye’ve not thrown a rock since, I venture to guess.”
“I have not even skipped a pebble across the river since that day.”
Again Macoran laughed, “And will ye warm yer son’s backside when he does it?”
“Not if he throws it at Rosa, she deserved it.”
“How so?”
“She called my mother a bletherskite.”
At that, Stefan could not help but smile. “It seems to be a favorite word among the Macorans. Kannak calls me that when she be put out.”
Macoran filled a bowl with mutton stew and handed it to Stefan. “Are yer families well?” He filled another for Diarmad and a bowl for himself.
The boys both answered and told of their ride, the visits and the places they had seen. Macoran noticed all the men they visited were unmarried and wondered why, but he let them finish eating before he asked, “Are the two o’ ye thinking o’ taking wives?”
Stefan nearly choked on his last bite of stew. “I dinna want a wife.”
But Diarmad was far more serious. “At what age do ye recommend marriage, Laird Macoran?”
“There be no particular age, but a lad must be able to care for a wife and the children she will bear afore I give my permission. Why did ye not bring Kannak with ye, Stefan?”
“She builds a wall, which reminds me we should get back to help.”
“My father took all his daughters to Jirvel,” Diarmad added. “He thought she might as well get to know them. Of course it be to help build a pen for the chickens as well.” He saw the look of displeasure on Macoran’s face and caught his breath. “Did I talk out o’ turn? My father said he already asked for Jirvel.”
Macoran dared not let his jealousy be exposed particularly since he knew his wife was listening, as she always was. “Nay, laddie, ye did not talk out o’ turn. I was just surprised yer father would take such a bold step. I have not yet given my permission. He be not the only lad who has asked for her.”
“Oh, I see. I dinna believe my father knows that. But he was the first and I have heard ye give yer favors to the first.”
“They say that, do they? I suppose they are right, but not by design. I know ye will find this hard to believe, but I do try to give a lass to a lad who be deserving o’ her. It be not as easy as ye may think. If I choose wrong, the other lad will hate me and when I need him to fight, he will be o’ no use to me.”
Stefan could not help himself, “I have heard that a lass has no say in the matter.”
Macoran stared at Stefan a little longer than he might have otherwise. “Do lasses in the north do the choosing?”
“In some places.” Again fearing he was about to get caught in his lies, Stefan quickly continued. “If there be love, sometimes an exception be made.”
“Ah love. When I know about it I take it under advisement too. Most men think they are in love when they ask for a lass, but a lass can learn to love her husband no matter who I choose for her.”
Stefan thought to argue the point but was certain it would take more than one afternoon to convince Macoran otherwise, and he did not have that kind of time. “We should get back. I worry about leaving Jirvel and Kannak alone.”
“If that be the case, yer free to leave.” Macoran watched the young men walk out the door and then mumbled, “Love...love will be the death o’ us all.”
*
HALF THE WALL WAS FINISHED, the neighbor girls agreed to come back the next day and the three in Jirvel’s little family were almost too exhausted to talk during their evening meal. But if they were to be a real family, which Stefan sorely wanted to be a part of, there could be no secrets between them. “Diarmad says the lads will ask for Andrina soon and I am curious; why do the Scots not let the lass have a say in matters of marriage?”
“‘Tis because they are daft,” Jirvel scoffed. “I have yet to know a lass, forced to take a husband she does not want, who be happy in her marriage.”
“But Macoran claims a lass will learn to love her husband no matter who she be matched with.”
“Aye, that be what he claims and that be what the lads want him to believe. What lad will admit he cannae make his wife happy?”
“But do the lasses not tell Macoran?”
“‘Twould do no good. He would just pat their hands and tell them to give it more time.”
“Andrina says a wise lass can out think Macoran.” Kannak had their full attention and savored the moment by taking a sip of water and then slowly setting her goblet down. “I am not to tell, but she prefers William and wants no other, not even ye, Stefan.”
Jirvel grinned and Stefan rolled his eyes. “I am overjoyed to hear that,” he said. “Diarmad and I have discussed it and he wants his sister to marry for love. But suppose another lad asks afore William? Macoran will likely give her to the first.”
For a long moment, each of them was lost in thought. Then Jirvel spoke up. “It would serve Macoran right if we did the matchmaking for a change. Tomorrow when the girls return, Stefan will ride to William’s cottage and ask him to come help with something.”
“Help with what?”
“We will have to think o’ something.”
“But we cannae tell Andrina what we are up to,” said Kannak. Suddenly realizing she had just given Stefan something to hold over her head, she turned her glare on him.
“What did I do?”
“Take a pledge not to tell.”
“Ye need a pledge over such a thing as this? Ye dinna trust me, wee bairn?”
“I would be daft to trust a bletherskite?”
“Then ye have my pledge this once, but in the future I will only give it on more important matters. Time for bed, wee bairn.”
Kannak would have ignored him, but she was tired enough to go anyway. She got up, put her bowl and goblet in the washing bucket and went off to bed. “Wee bairn indeed.” She let the curtain down and disappeared behind it.
Stefan grinned, put a hand on Jirvel’s arm to get her attention and whispered, “Ronan has asked Macoran for ye. He was the first and thinks he has ye.”
Jirvel took an exhausted breath and let it out. “Thank God I am married.”
“He hopes to bribe the priest to set yer marriage aside.”
She abruptly caught her breath. “Has Macoran given his permission?”
“He said not and he also reminded Diarmad another has asked for ye as well. Perhaps...”
Kannak shouted from her bedchamber, “What be all the whispering?”
“We hope to annoy ye so ye cannae sleep.” Stefan shot back.
“Well ‘tis working.”
Jirvel smiled, lowered her voice even more and leaned closer, “Perhaps what?”
“Perhaps ye might not smile so sweetly at him tomorrow.”
“Perhaps I should spit in his face, ye mean.” She brought both hands up and rubbed her temples. “What am I to do?”
“I dinna know.”
*
THE NEIGHBOR GIRLS came early and this time without Diarmad. Just as they had the day before, they took to their tasks of gathering the materials needed to finish the wall. They tried, but neither Jirvel, Kannak nor Stefan could think of a reason to ask for William’s help. Just before the noon meal, a reason none of them could have imagined presented itself.
Suria went missing.
The five-year-old was there one moment and gone the next. Jirvel was the first to notice her missing and shouted, “Where might Suria be?” Everyone stopped what they were doing at the same time and looked around.
Several yards away, Andrina cupped her hands and shouted, “She be not lost, Jirvel. She likes to catch butterflies, but she knows not to go far. We will find her.”
“I pray yer right,” Jirvel whispered. She put down her mixing stick and started to head for the river.
But Stefan stopped her. “I will go to the river. Send the older girls that way.” He pointed east toward William’s land. “Take the others and search the woods. We will find her.”
Soon the voices of nine people filled the air, “Suria!”
Kannak was beside herself with worry, but while Andrina was concerned, she was not in a panic. “We might see William,” she whispered between shouts for her sister. “He is so handsome.” The closer she got to his cottage, the louder she shouted. “Suria!”
But time drew on, the child was not found and by the time William came through the thick trees on his horse, tears were in Andrina’s eyes. “The fault be mine,” she sobbed. “I am the one charged with watching her, but I let myself get diverted.”
He got down off his horse and put a hand on her shoulder. “Dinna fret yerself so, I will help ye find her.”
“Truly?”
He grinned. “I’d not lie at a time like this.”
She realized her mistake and tried to smile.
“Did ye see which way she went?”
“Nay. Stefan went to the river and Jirvel and the girls are searching the trees.”
“Good. Keep looking here and I will search toward the river also.” He did not say it, but William was worried. The currents in the river were swift and more than one child had gotten swept away in it.
*
STEFAN WAS TERRIFIED. He could not find the child on the shore nor in the water. But then, if she fell into the water it surely would have washed her away by now. Suddenly, he spotted the gray wolf. It was just standing on the bank watching him and as soon as their eyes met, the wolf took off. But then it stopped and looked back as though it wanted him to follow.
“Suria,” he shouted. He paused to listen, heard nothing and then decided to follow the wolf up the river bank. When it got too far ahead, the wolf again stopped and looked back, so Stefan quickened his pace. He had heard of dogs leading someone to the lost, but never a wolf.
“Suria!” he paused, listened and thought he heard a whimper coming from somewhere ahead. He started to run as did the wolf, keeping safely out of Stefan’s reach until it stopped near some bushes. “Suria!”
“I am caught.”
He was so happy to hear her, he finally allowed himself to breathe. “Where are ye, lassie?”
“Here.”
Stefan stepped through the bushes, spotted the top of her head and leaned down to pick her up. But just as she said, her skirt was caught in the bushes and she couldn’t pull herself free. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she found her voice enough to whisper, “I seed a wolf.”
“I saw it too, but it dinna hurt ye. ‘Tis a good wolf.”
“A good wolf?” As soon as he got her skirt free, she wrapped her little arms around his neck and let him lift her up.
“I must tell the others yer safe.” He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. He could hear shouts in the distance, smiled and started back. The wolf was gone, but to his amazement, Jirvel’s horse came running. Stefan laughed, set the child on the horse and swung up behind her. By the time he got the two of them back to the cottage, all six girls, Jirvel, Kannak...and William were waiting.
Andrina ran to the horse, pulled Suria down and kissed her face repeatedly. “Ye must not wander off like that. Ye scared us witless.”
“I tore my skirt.”
Andrina smiled to comfort her worried little sister. “We will mend it. Now promise ye will not wander off again and I will let ye down.”
“I promise. I followed a rabbit, hop, hop, hop ... and,” she quickly drew in a sharp breath. “A wolf found me, but ‘tis a good wolf. It dinna hurt me.”
“A good wolf, be it?” William asked.
At last Andrina remembered William was there and returned his smile. “Thank ye for helping us.”
“Yer welcome.”
He seemed not to want to leave and Stefan noticed. “Might we get yer advice on our wall? I confess I have never built one and I dinna know if it will hold.” He hoped Jirvel would not be offended and when he looked, she gave him a slight nod.
“I would be happy to take a look.” William turned once more to Andrina, nodded and then followed Stefan toward the wall.
When the girls started to giggle, Jirvel intentionally interrupted. “Back to work everyone. Suria, yer staying with me afore yer father has my head.” She grabbed the little girl’s hand and followed the men toward the wall.
