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STEFAN WAS BESIDE HIMSELF with worry. Something made him fear if he was not with Kannak and quickly, she might die the way his mother died in his father’s absence. She and Jirvel were all he had and he had come to love them both. Once Jirvel was on the horse and headed for the village, he made sure the fire was cold, grabbed his extra clothing, stuffed them in a cloth sack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he took the cow to William and started the long walk to the village. He could have borrowed a horse, he knew, but he did not want to take the time to return it. Once he was there, all he wanted to do was stay with Kannak. Soon he was running more often than walking. Still, it seemed to take forever.
The elder’s cabin was much the same as Jirvel’s except it had no second room. Nevertheless, the one room was large enough for all three of them to have a bed and by the time he got there, Macoran had already moved two more in. It left little room for the table and chairs, but that was the least of their concerns.
Stefan dropped his sack near the door, knelt down beside Kannak’s bed and touched her cheek. It was still very hot. “How does she do?” he whispered.
Jirvel put her hand on his shoulder. “She sleeps finally and I doubt she can hear us.” She pointed to the array of bottles and small sacks on the table. “Macoran brings every kind o’ potion and remedy he can find and enters without knocking. But we must take care not to give her too much even if he insists. He may be our laird, but he knows nothing o’ helping the sick.”
“Nor do I.”
“Then ‘tis time ye learn. I must go out. If she moans, hold her hand. It seems to comfort her.” She waited for his nod and then slipped out the door.
Stefan got up, moved a chair next to Kannak’s bed and sat down. She looked so vulnerable and so very ill. He again touched her cheek, but it was just as hot and there was nothing he could do. When she suddenly opened her eyes, she looked disoriented and frightened. Instinctively, he took her hand and when she finally focused on his face and recognized him, she tried to smile. “Sleep, wee bairn, sleep.” She lightly squeezed his hand and closed her eyes.
But he did not let go of her hand. He remembered how affectionate his aunt and uncle were and realized he missed it. They constantly hugged him and even when he got older and protested, they continued to often muss his hair or pat his back. If Kannak were well, perhaps he would not be so bold, but just now all he had to give her was his affection and perhaps somehow it would help.
For three long days, Kannak fought the fever, could not seem to get warm when she chilled and cried out in pain from the raging headache. Jirvel cared for her during the day and then tried to get at least some sleep while Stefan watched over her at night. Macoran came day and night, bringing still more remedies the first day and then beginning to take some away that night. He reported others were ill as well and needed them; the fever seemed to be sweeping through the whole village.
Stefan built the fire hotter when Kannak chilled and then let the embers simply smolder when she was hot. He lifted her head up and forced her to drink as often as he dared, and then held her hand every time she moaned. Just as Jirvel said, it seemed to calm her and it calmed him too. It also let him know when the fever was subsiding and it was not until the third night that her hand felt almost normal.
At last, she opened her eyes and truly smiled at him. “I thirst,” she managed to whisper.
He was thrilled, grabbed the goblet by his chair, lifted her head and helped her drink. “Shall I wash yer face?”
“Aye, that would feel good.”
Stefan wet a cloth and carefully dabbed her forehead, her cheeks and then her chin the way Jirvel showed him. Again she smiled, which touched his heart in a way he could not quite understand.
Through a small opening in the window covering, the northern lights danced against the wall and Kannak turned her head to watch them.
“Some believe God lives in the north and he sends his lights to assure us he be still there. Would ye like me to take ye outside?” As soon as she nodded, he sat her up, wrapped her blankets around her and lifted her into his arms. To his surprise, Macoran opened the door and he had not even heard the man come in. When he glanced toward Jirvel’s bed, she was sitting up watching.
There was not a soul outside except the guards when Stefan carried her into the courtyard. The northern lights were especially beautiful and looked like a multi-colored curtain waving across the sky. He watched the lights and the delight in her eyes for a time, but when she seemed to drift off to sleep again, he took her back.
Holding her in his arms was a time he would remember always and it was another lesson learned - people, even grown men need the touch of another human being. In the days of her illness, holding her hand seemed to help her and at the same time it somehow took away most of the hurt in his heart over losing his father.
*
IT WAS A WINTER OF much sorrow.
Kannak was indeed not the only one to come down with the fever and although she slowly recovered, several of the younger children and even a few of the elders died. The clan’s graveyard was located down the beach on the side of the hill. Stefan helped dig the graves and for a time it seemed they completed one burial only to be faced with another.
With the low river water, fishing was not as plentiful and several of the men had to go to sea to find other kinds of fish. Hungry wolves were often spotted too close to the village and fires were lit along the edges to keep them away at night.
Then the snow and ice came.
Even so, Mistress Macoran took her daily walk along the ocean shore still hoping the Vikings would come back. When she wasn’t looking for Vikings, she cursed her husband and prayed he would die of the fever. But he did not even manage a sneeze and she was furious.
In her father’s village, her sons had been caught twice playing with fire and it was all she could do to keep them in check before they shamed her. For that she blamed Macoran as well. She never should have bedded him and proclaimed barrenness to her father instead. Why did she always manage to think of these things after it was too late? Now she was stuck with a husband whom she hated and two sons she was beginning to care even less for. It was all Macoran’s fault and she would make him pay if it was the last thing she ever did.
*
ONCE THE ILLNESS LEFT the village, Stefan spent his time gathering wood and dried heather for their fire, went fishing and hunting. He bartered two salmon for a chicken and spent two hours slowly turning the spit to cook it so they could enjoy a special celebration for Kannak’s fourteenth birthday. Kannak got better each day but it took three weeks for her to get all her strength back. Stefan took her on short walks at first and then longer ones until she pleaded to be let on her own lest everyone think her a wee bairn still. He reluctantly let her have her way.
For Jirvel, there was another kind of suffering. She stayed inside the cottage most of the time and when she did go out, she avoided going close to the keep or to any place she knew Macoran might be. Seeing him, especially with his wife and children was unbearable. She was pleasant, when she could not avoid her mistress Macoran, but she had no desire to befriend her and prayed the woman did not know why.
*
IT WAS AFTER THE SNOW melted and the weather warmed that Stefan drew his sword and was furious enough to use it. He walked around the corner of a cottage just in time to see Kannak struggling to get free of a man who had his arms tight around her. Stefan’s rage was instant. He grabbed the man by the hair and yanked him away from her. Then he moved back and drew his sword. A second later the other man did the same and they both prepared to fight.
Kannak gasped. “Nay, Stefan, he dinna hurt me.”
“Go to yer mother, Kannak.”
But instead of doing as he said, she saw the other man begin to attack, heard the crash of their swords and screamed. Seconds later Macoran and several other men came running.
“What is it?” Macoran asked. “Why do ye fight?”
Stefan successfully blocked the man’s second strike and was about to go on the offense when Macoran arrived. There was fury in his eyes and he did not take them off his opponent even for a moment, “He tried to force Kannak.”
“If this be true, I will kill him myself,” said Macoran.
“‘Tis not true,” the other man said. “I only tried to kiss her.”
Stefan was not appeased, “Ye dinna kiss a lass unless she be willing.”
It was the first time Stefan called her a woman and Kannak set aside her terror in favor of wonder.
“Put away yer swords. ‘Twill be no bloodletting this day.” Macoran put his hand on the top of Stefan’s and tried to force it down. But Stefan resisted and was not willing to put his sword back in the sheath until after the other man did. He held his fierce glare steady, found it hard to let go of his anger and it surprised even him. “Be it not true a lad’s family be the only thing worth dying for?”
“Aye, ‘tis true, but no one will die this day. This day we anticipate the coming of spring and all that entails, finally.” He noticed they had drawn a crowd and turned to the others. “There be nothing more to see.” Then Macoran glared at the other man, “I will deal with ye later.” Macoran’s ire was evident and the man soon hung his head and walked away. “Did he hurt ye, lass?”
She was less interested in her laird than she was in Stefan. “Nay.” But as soon as she started to walk to him, Stefan finished putting his sword away, turned and headed down the path toward the river. “Would ye really kill a lad if he hurt me?” Stefan ignored her but she was not about to let him get away without an answer even if she had to run to keep up with him.
When the others were gone and Macoran realized Jirvel was the only one near him, he smiled. “That lad loves yer daughter.”
She returned his smile. “I know. ‘Tis a delight watching him.”
“Do ye believe he be the reason she does not choose a husband?”
“I do. ‘Tis a delight watching her too.” They might have talked longer, but when Jirvel looked, Macoran’s wife was watching from the landing. Jirvel curtsied to her laird and walked away.
That afternoon, Agnes was seen walking down the beach talking to herself.
*
THE RAINS FOLLOWED the snow, but on a clear day when the sun finally began to dry the land and Stefan had gone off with the other men to hunt, there came a fateful knock on the door. Kannak answered it and was surprised to find Laird Macoran standing there. He had not come to see them since her illness.
She curtsied but he gently waved her aside and entered.
“I would speak to yer mother alone.”
She looked to her mother for permission, saw her nod, grabbed her warm cloak and left, closing the door behind her. Yet she did not close it completely and was tempted to stay and listen. But when she glanced around, she saw one of Macoran’s sons watching from the end of the path. She was not fond of her laird’s sons – no one was, and she decided to watch him instead.
How she would have liked kicking both twins in the shins for all the mischief they got into. Once she caught them trying to bore a hole in the bottom of a small boat so it would sink. Another time, she rescued a puppy before they could drown it.
Abruptly, the twin she was watching ran down the path toward her, shot past without even a glance and headed into the courtyard. Too late she suspected the boy intended to tell Mistress Macoran where her husband was and that would surely bring trouble to her mother. All she could do now was watch him dart up the steps and disappeared through the door of the keep. A moment later, mistress Macoran appeared on the landing and glared at Kannak.
*
INSIDE THE COTTAGE, Macoran took a seat opposite Jirvel at the table. “Others have noticed how ye avoid me.”
“What did ye expect? Did ye hope I would pretend nothing was wrong? Ye and I are not the only ones who know what happened on our wedding day. Even yer wife suspects there be something between us.”
“Agnes dinna suspect.”
“She came here.”
“What...When?”
“It was on a night when ye stayed away too long. She knocked on the door, entered, looked for ye and then left.”
He put his head in his hands. “I have hurt her too. She be as unhappy as we are.”
“Impossible...unless she loves ye finally.” Jirvel quickly stood up, turned her back to him and walked to the far corner of the room. “My brother wants me to go home and I am considering it.”
“Ye cannae. I will not let ye take my Kannak from me.”
“When did she become yer’s? Save when she was ill, ye have never held her, nor have ye kissed her tears away.”
He went to Jirvel and put his hands on her shoulders. “Ye had a husband, remember? Ye cannae know how I longed to hold her and kiss her tears away. If I had, it would only have complicated our lives more.”
He was right and when she felt him put his arms around her, she closed her eyes and did not resist. “I have had a great deal o’ time to think these past weeks and I realize the fault be not wholly yer’s. We were to be married the next day and I saw no harm in it. I went to yer bed willingly and I would do it again, were we given that night back. Kannak be the only good that came from our love and we must do what be best for her.”
“And what do ye deem that to be?” He had his eyes closed too and when he opened them, there was more light in the room, than there should have been with the door shut. He let go of her and turned around. There in the doorway stood both his wife and Kannak. His wife folded her arms in a huff, but Kannak turned and started to run.
Jirvel covered her mouth and softly cried out, “Kannak!”
“I will go after her; ‘tis time I set at least this much right.” Macoran paid no attention to his wife, walked right past her and headed up the path after his daughter. But when he reached the courtyard, she was already out of sight.
*
THE HUNT FOR FRESH meat had been fruitless. All the men found were carcasses of red deer the wolves had gotten to and when Stefan came back to the cottage, Jirvel was in a dither, rushing around collecting their things.
“What is it, what has happened?”
She barely glanced at him. “We are taking Kannak home.”
“Now? But ‘tis not yet spring.”
Jirvel stopped packing and closed her eyes. “Ye might as well hear it from me. Kannak be the daughter o’ Macoran and she just found out. She has run away, Macoran has gone to find her and I am beside myself with worry.”
“I will find her, I know where she goes.”
*
STEFAN SPOTTED HER right where he suspected she would be, at the top of the hill watching the ocean waves. He cleared his throat to let her know he was there but he needn’t have bothered. She heard him coming.
“I hate them, I hate them both. They lied to me. I am Macoran’s daughter and they did not say.”
On the path not far below, Macoran stopped to listen.
“I see, and this be how the daughter o’ a laird behaves?”
“The daughter o’ a laird, who has never once confessed me. I am bound by no good form to him and I will behave as I see fit.”
“Think, Kannak, they did not marry and if he confessed ye, he would bring shame upon yer mother. As angry as ye are, I cannae believe ye would want that.”
“Then I am never to know him? All my life I wanted a father who loved me and still I cannae have him?”
Stefan moved to stand beside her, put an arm around her waist and then pointed. “Do ye see that far rock?” He waited for her nod and then continued. “Beyond that, in the waters o’ the sea, be where my father be buried. His name was Donar and he was the commander o’ a whole fleet o’ Viking ships. He died the day ye found me.”
She turned to look into his eyes. “Ye never said a word.”
“I could not speak o’ it till now.”
She put her head on his shoulder and welcomed his comfort. “Did he love ye?”
“Very much. The other Vikings came to kill and to steal, but my father only wanted us to run away and build a new life for ourselves here in Scotland.”
“What happened?”
“We were running up this very hill when he took an arrow to the back and died. Do ye remember? I took yer horse and left that night.”
“Aye.”
He gently laid his head against the top of hers, “I came back to bury him but his body was gone. I stood where yer standing now and watched Macoran give him a Viking burial fitting my father’s rank. It was a very good and honorable thing for him to do and I have always been grateful. My father be dead but yer’s be still alive. For that ye must be grateful as well.”
Kannak started to cry, as much to relieve her anger as for Stefan’s loss.
“Do not cry, wee bairn. Yer father be a good man and he loves ye, I know he does. Perhaps someday he will manage to tell ye that.”
“I want to go home.”
Stefan finally realized he was there and glanced Macoran’s direction just in time to see him inching away. “So does yer mother. She be gathering our things as we speak. Who knows, maybe the stallion has come back.”
Kannak wiped the tears off her cheeks and giggled. “Will we finally give him a name?”
“Ye said so yerself. He be a gift from God and deserves a better name than any we can give him. But we will think on it. Kannak, afore we go back I will have yer pledge.”
She lifted her head to look at him and wrinkled her brow. “What sort o’ pledge?”
“Yer mother took me in when I had nowhere to go and no family. I will not have ye hurting her with yer words o’ anger. What happened could not have been avoided.”
“Ye cannae know that.”
“True, but there must have been something that kept them apart. Ye have seen the way they are. They love each other still.”
She decided he was right and tried to smile. Then she reached up on tip-toe, kissed his cheek and started down the path. “Ye are a good brother, Stefan.
For months, he thought of himself as her brother, but somehow hearing her say it this time bothered him. He was beginning to realize he wanted to be more to her than a brother.
*
MACORAN HAD ONE MORE woman to deal with and as soon as he arrived he marched into the keep, went up the stairs to her bedchamber and took a firm hold on both of his wife’s shoulders. “Ye dare spy on me?”
“Ye have been unfaithful with that lass for years. Do ye deny it?” She tried to get out of his grasp, but he would not let her.
“I do, but if I were unfaithful, whose fault would it be? Ye dinna welcome me to yer bed.”
Agnes laughed a cruel, guttural laugh. “As if ye wanted me to. I had to ply ye with strong drink just to conceive my sons.”
“Fortunately for me, I dinna recall that night. But dinna change the subject. I will not tolerate yer spying and yer punishment for doing so is this – ye will not see yer father this year.” She gasped and he knew his words hit the mark. “Furthermore, if ye breathe a word o’ what ye heard, I will bring shame down upon ye the likes o’ which ye have never seen. I will swear ye have committed adultery, set this marriage aside and gladly send ye and yer sons to yer father forever. Do ye hear me, Agnes?” She reluctantly nodded and at length, he let go of her and stormed out of her bedchamber.
Macoran went back down the stairs, poured himself a goblet of wine and sat down at the table. “What mud I have made of everything.”
*
AGNES WAS FURIOUS AND slammed her door. For years she hoped Macoran would set her aside and at last she had the perfect way to accomplish it. How she would love to shout the news about Kannak from the highest window for all the world to hear and force him to set her aside. But after her mother passed, her father caught his young bride with another man and killed them both. Then he let it be known adultery was not to be tolerated by anyone in his family...not now and not ever.
How very cruel life had been to her, and now Agnes could not even go home for a visit. It was slow in coming but finally, she thought of something...poison. But where was she to get it? She had no one to trust, not among the Macorans. Perhaps if she were pleasant and if she could keep her sons out of trouble, Macoran would change his mind and let her visit her aging father. Aye, there was plenty of poison to be had at the Brodie hold.
