The Viking by Marti Talbott - HTML preview

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STEFAN WAS BEGINNING to get frustrated. There was so much to tell and he wanted to see Kannak. At least William had stopped asking questions. “If ye will allow it, I will explain.”

“Please. Should I sit down?” Macoran asked.

“If ye prefer, but I doubt ye would stay down for long. ‘Twas yer wife who arranged my snatching.” Macoran’s mouth dropped and he started to speak, but Stefan wouldn’t let him. “Toran was captured with me.”

“Toran the thief? The one I flogged in the courtyard? He run off just a day or two afore.”

“He did not run off, he was sent with a message to yer wife’s father. Just afore Toran died, he told me everything. She sent him to say these words exact: ‘My husband does not come to my bed. He shames me with another just as yer wife shamed ye. The proof be his daughter.’”

Macoran could hardly speak. “She wanted...she knew Kannak was my daughter and...” He suddenly realized William was there and turned to see the look of shock on his face. But William was smiling. “Ye knew?”

“Everyone knows; she looks just like ye and not at all like Eogan. The only one who dinna know be Kannak.”

“Kannak knows too and has for...but that matters not. Stefan, are ye saying my wife hoped for war?”

“Aye, she wanted ye dead and she would have gotten her desire for they are a very large clan with many warriors.”

“How well I know. So why are we talking here, hiding in the forest like thieves?”

“Because their plan did not work. Toran was with the Brodies that day and they intended to come up the river at night and take Jirvel and Kannak. For Jirvel and Kannak ye would have gone to war and even if ye did not die, at least Agnes could cause torment by ridding ye o’ the lass and the daughter ye loved. Toran was then to come back to ye and say he saw Brodies take them. But they found us instead at the castle and Kannak got away.”

“Go on, I am listening.”

“I fear yer wife was so furious she tried to burn Jirvel and Kannak alive.”

At that, Macoran looked for a place, spotted a log and had to sit down. “I knew the lass hated me, but ...”

“Laird Brodie could not release me, so he sold Toran and me into slavery.”

Macoran shook his head in disgust. “What say ye I do?”

“Mistress Macoran will be none too pleased to see me. Ye must make certain she has no opportunity of trying to harm Jirvel and Kannak again.” It was enough, and Stefan could wait no more. “Where be Kannak?”

“Where she always be this time o’ day. Atop the hill watching the ocean.”

Stefan grinned, handed his horse’s reins to William and started up the hill.

*

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WILLIAM WATCHED STEFAN go and then turned to Macoran. “What will ye do now?”

“I will marry the lass I have loved for years.”

“Aye, but afore that?”

“Afore that, I must set aside my wife and get her out of my clan.”

“Tis not easily done,” said William. He offered his hand and helped his laird stand up.

“Nay, or I would have done it afore now.” He shook his head in disbelief again. “Never had I guessed Agnes might attempt to have us all killed.  A war would have...”

“Aye, but ye have no proof o’ that.”

“I have Stefan.”

“He only heard it from a man who be now dead and no one saw yer wife...or her sons start the fire. I doubt the priest will believe any o’ it.”

“Twas the twins who most likely set the fire.”

“Aye.”

“There must be a way to rid us o’ all three.”

William mounted his horse and waited for Macoran to do the same. “What does a priest always believe be just cause for setting a wife aside?”

“Adultery? But who would believe it? I had to get so drunk, I do not even recall doing it and I assure ye, it was only once.”

“Perhaps it was not ye?”

Macoran guided his horse out of the trees and turned up the path toward the village. “Aye, but the laddies look just like me.”

“Are ye blind? They look just like her. They are skinny malinky longlegs and their father could be any man with red hair. Besides, they are hateful, spiteful laddies just like their mother. The Macorans would be well rid of the three of them.”

“I dinna deny that. I tried to...do ye really think the priest would believe it?”

“Are ye willing to swear ye never bedded her?”

*

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KANNAK HAD HER ARMS folded and was looking out across the ocean watching for Viking ships or sea monsters. She had not seen either since Stefan was taken, but she watched for them daily just the same. Her waist length auburn hair was unbound, not because she preferred it, but because she neglected to braid it before she left the cottage. Jirvel often commented that the color of her frock was nearly the same as her hair, and they both found it amusing.

She sometimes dreamed Stefan had found the Vikings and their longships would bring him home, but other times she thought it a silly dream. This day there were storm clouds to the north and a beautiful rainbow arching across the sky. She loved rainbows and it eased her heart a little.

Sometimes she could not remember what he looked like and it plagued her. Other times if she closed her eyes, she could still feel his arms around her. Today, even that didn’t help. At least she stopped crying when she came to watch the waves. All crying did was give her a headache and make her mother sad. But not crying did not mean the hurt in her heart had gone away. Others said in time her heart would heal, but they were wrong.

Kannak reached out and touched the last drop of dew on the leaf of a tree and without even realizing she was saying it out loud, she whispered, “Will we ever be happy, Stefan?”

In a whisper just as soft, he said, “Aye.”

She dared not turn around for fear her ears deceived her. It sounded like his voice, but she thought her mind was playing tricks. Her heart would surely break all over again if she turned and he was not there.

“I love ye.”

Still she was afraid to look. Then she felt him come closer and put his arms around her from behind, the way he did when she was looking out the window of the hidden castle. “It is truly ye?”

“Aye.” He felt her lean against him and closed his eyes. At last she was back in his arms.

“I have missed ye so.”

“I have missed ye too. We will be happy now, I pledge it.”

“Ye cannae promise happiness, no one can.”

“I can pledge to love ye until the day I die.”

Finally, she turned in his arms and pulled away enough to look at him. He had not changed much except he had grown a thicker beard and his hair was lighter than she remembered. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen and his blue eyes seemed more brilliant than ever before. Kannak lifted her hand and traced the side of his face with her fingertips. “Am I forgiven?”

“For what?”

“For tricking ye into going to the hidden castle. I have wished for that day back so very often.”

He took a moment to brush a stand of hair away from her face. “Ye cannae have that day back, I forbid it. That was the day ye gave me a reason to live. As to the castle, I hope to make it our home after we are married.”

“Live in the hidden castle?”

“Aye. Would ye like it if we did?” At sixteen she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He touched her long silky hair and felt her lay her head on his chest.

“I would like that very much.” She was still a little afraid she was sleeping and would wake to find him gone. But he felt so real. “Where have ye been?”

“I have been with ye. I have loved ye and prayed for ye and sent ye all kinds o’ messages in my mind. Did ye not receive them?”

She giggled, pulled away a little and looked up at him. “What messages?”

“Each night I told ye I was not dead and each morning I told ye to wait for me.”

“Then I must have gotten them for I would not believe ye were dead...and I waited.” She slipped her arms around him and laid her head back on his chest. “Dinna let go o’ me, Stefan. Dinna ever let go o’ me.”

“I will never let go.” At last, she lifted her head and he lowered his lips to hers.

*

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THE PRIEST SAT AT ONE end of the table and Macoran sat at the other. Between them were Agnes Macoran and her two twelve-year-old sons, one on each side of her. Seated across from her, William waited patiently.

The priest finished writing something down and then looked up. “And why has it taken ye all this time to bring it to my attention, Laird Macoran?”

Macoran was not prepared for that question and scratched his head trying to think of a reason.

“Because I just this morning confessed,” said William. His words shocked him as much.as it did everyone else. Then he narrowed his eyes and pointed at Agnes, “She did it.”

“Ye bedded her?” the astonished priest asked.

“Nay, ‘twas my uncle.”

It was the first Macoran heard anything about an uncle, but he was entranced with the story.

The priest frowned, “If that be the case, I will hear it from yer uncle.”

William crossed himself and hung his head, “Dead these five years I am sad to say. I miss him still.”

“Be silent,” Agnes shouted. “Ye lie.”

“I dinna lie, I saw it. Ye tempted him, ye did and I saw it.”

“When?”

William found her question confusing. “Years ago, afore yer sons were born.”

Agnes scooted her chair back and stood up. “Are ye saying these are not Macoran’s sons?”

Finally getting his wits about him, Macoran spoke up. “They are not.”

“They are not?” the priest asked. “How do ye know?”

He glanced at his wife and then turned his full attention to the priest, “I swear to ye that lass has never been in my bed.”

Growing more incredulous by the moment, the priest’s mouth dropped. “Not in all these years?”

“Truly, Father, would ye?”

The priest studied Agnes’ feeble looks, realized he was staring at her too long and looked away. “And William, ye will swear it ‘twas yer uncle?”

“I will,” said William. He wondered for a moment just how much trouble he was going to be in with God, but the damage was done and it was too late. Besides, the crime Agnes plotted was far worse than his tiny little lie. When he looked, both of her sons were staring at her and she was backing away.

“My father will not take me back if I am accused o’ adultery.”

Macoran finally stood up. “Then ye have a problem, my dear, because I will not have ye either.”

“What will I do, where can I go?”

It was something Macoran had not considered and he paused to think about it. “If ye will leave, and leave quickly, and if the priest agrees, what happened here today will not cross our lips. What ye tell yer father be up to ye.” Inwardly he smiled. The twins would surely tell on her and she deserved punishment.

“And my sons?”

“Take them with ye. Should they ever grow up to be lads o’ honor, I will welcome them back. But I suspect they will be far happier with the Brodies. Are we agreed?”

She had no choice. The priest was nearly finished writing on the parchment and all Macoran had to do was sign it. “Ye will send a guard with us?”

“Aye, I will send them until ye are across Limond land, after that...” he watched her dart up the stairs, heard her screech at her sons to gather their things and then slam the door to her bedchamber. Macoran went to the front door, opened it, yelled for his guard to make ready and came back to the table. He wanted desperately to smile, to laugh, to jump for joy. But he held his emotions until he made his mark on the parchment, thanked the priest and handed him a gold coin for his trouble.

It was another tedious hour before Agnes had her things situated, the horses loaded, and the boys in tow. Macoran stood on the landing, watched the three of them mount their horses and then nodded for his guard to take them away. He wanted to savor the moment and when Agnes glared back at him, he blew her a kiss.

*

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STEFAN AND KANNAK WOULD have stayed on the hill top the rest of the day just holding each other, but there was some sort of commotion in the village. Both of them moved quickly to the place where they could see the shore. There were no longships.

Stefan laughed. “And to think I was a Viking once. Now I am afraid they will come back.” He took her hand and started down the path. “I cannae wait to see Jirvel.”

“Stefan, ye are dragging me again.”

“Oh.” He stopped, kissed her passionately and then slowed his pace. “Is she well?”

“She will be once she sees ye?” There were more shouts in the village and as they grew closer, they sounded more like a celebration than a battle.

Even Jirvel came out to see what all the commotion was. The people were dancing, shouting, clapping their hands loudly and she could make no sense of it. Before she could resist, Macoran suddenly grabbed her around the waist, kissed her breathless, lifted her up and carried her toward the courtyard.

“Put me down!”

“Not until we are married.”

“Ye have gone daft, finally.”

Macoran stopped and tried to kiss her again, but she refused. “Did I not say? Agnes has been set aside. Seems her sons are not mine.”

Jirvel didn’t believe him. “Put me down.”

He did as she said, but he did not let go of her. “Marry me, Jirvel and make us both happy.”

She realized everyone had abruptly gotten quiet and turned to see what the matter could be now. Just as they all were, she found herself staring at a Limond shirt. But when the man opened his arms to her, she finally recognized him and ran. “Stefan!”

Stefan wrapped his arms around her and began to swing her all the way around. Then he set her down and let her touch his face.

“I cannae believe it is truly ye. What a glorious day this be and I see ye have found Kannak. Good. I...” Tears came to her eyes and she hugged him again. “My son be home.”

“And yer husband to be is waiting for an answer.” Macoran folded his arms and began tapping his toe.

Jirvel turned to her daughter. “He claims he has set Agnes aside. Do ye believe him?”

“‘Tis the first I heard o’ it.”

William took up a position next to his laird, “I am witness to it myself. She be gone and gone for good.”

Conspiratorially, Jirvel leaned closer to her daughter. “Him I believe. Should I marry Macoran?”

“Aye,” said Kannak, “but this time we should lock him away so he has no opportunity of changing his mind on yer wedding day.”

Every eye was on them and everyone seemed to be leaning closer to hear what they were saying. Stefan put one arm around each woman. “Do the Marocans yet have a priest?”

“Aye,” both answered at the same time.

“Then I suggest we find him and get married today afore anything can go wrong.”

Kannak leaned around Stefan and looked at her mother. “I think he means all four o’ us.”

“I think he does too.”

Macoran cleared his throat. “Make up yer mind, lass. I have waited long enough to call ye mine. Say it afore the priest gets away.”

“Aye!” Jirvel shouted. She ran back to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed his breath away. When they realized the crowd was cheering, both of them blushed.

*

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FOR HAVING NO TIME to prepare, the weddings were a grand affair. Several of the women gathered flowers and made wreaths for Jirvel and Kannak’s hair. As soon as they were changed into their better clothing and their hair was brushed, they donned the wreaths and came back to the courtyard where the priest, Stefan and Macoran waited. And just before he began, Macoran slipped another two coins in the priest’s hand in hopes of a shortened ceremony. It did not matter, of course, the four of them were so blissfully happy they hardly heard the words anyway.

Their wedding feast was as tasty as the clan could manage on such short notice and served to the couples at the long table in Jirvel’s new home. The singers came to sing, the flutist played a happy jig and when the feast was over and all of the others were gone, Macoran closed the door and the great hall finally got quiet.

Stefan kissed his wife and then stood up. He walked to Macoran’s trophy wall, lovingly touched his father’s shield and then took it down off the wall. Once too large for him to manage, he slipped his hand through the grip in the back and it fit perfectly. He had grown up and was no doubt every bit as big as the great commander of so many Viking ships.

“‘Tis yer’s if ye wish to have it,” Macoran said behind him. “Was it yer father’s?”

Both Jirvel and Kannak were shocked. “Ye knew?” they both asked at the same time.

Macoran rolled his eyes. “Did ye truly think ye could hide a Viking among us without my knowing?”

“Does everyone know?” asked Kannak.

“If not, they are daft. My guards did not see a lad his size pass onto our land from the north or from any other direction. But he was just a laddie so we let it pass.”

Jirvel had not taken her eyes off of Stefan. “Be it yer father’s shield, Stefan?”

“Aye.”

“Then it belongs to ye,” said Macoran.

Stefan turned around and grinned at Macoran. “‘Tis not enough. I will have Anundi’s sword as well.”

“This sword...with the golden handle? I love this sword.”

“So did Anundi.”

“Who be he?”

“He was my father’s second but now has taken his place as commander and I will have his sword.”

Macoran took a deep breath and looked to Jirvel for help, but she was not forthcoming. “I suppose,” he began, “if ye were to promise to bring my daughter to see us often, I might...be persuaded. Though I love this sword. It fits my hand perfectly. Jirvel, do something, he be yer son.”

Jirvel stood up, walked to her husband and took his hand. “What I have in mind dinna have to do with our son.” She led him toward the stairs. “Which bedchamber be ours?”

Stefan laughed, watched them go, hung his father’s shield back up and held out his hand to his wife. “Have we a place to sleep?”

“Now we do, now that mother lives here. Come, I will show ye.” She kissed him passionately and then took him home.

*

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EVERY CLAN HAD A BEGINNING, and so it was that this small clan began in a hidden castle. The Viking named the clan after Jirvel’s brother, Greagor, and they called themselves MacGreagors. One by one, the men who served as slaves with Stefan brought their families and friends, and by spring the clan numbered sixty-seven. They built stone cottages, for if they knew anything at all, they knew how to build.

Stefan used his father’s money to buy the tools, seed, horses and weapons needed, beyond those the other men brought, and his grandfather sent as wedding gifts. He named William his second in command and soon, Diarmad and Blair together with their families, joined them. Naturally, they made an alliance with the Macorans and all lived in peace, even with the Brodies – although the Brodies were far from easily trusted.

He took Kannak often to see her parents and the two elders came often to swim in the warm water of the loch. But Macoran would not part with Anundi’s sword and it became a running joke between them. After all, Stefan was to save ten women and he had yet to save any after Jirvel.

His grandfather came often too. He hired a new builder and this time he paid men to reinforce his castle. Their strained relationship turned more pleasant as the days went by and both learned how to laugh again. Stefan often thought about the day they landed and wondered if his father meant to land them on Limond land instead of Macoran. If so, it was a mistake Stefan thanked God for every day.

At least he learned to listen to his foreboding and not wait to take action. He thought he saw the gray wolf once, but it did not stay and the black stallion never did come back. He found that comforting, for it must mean Kannak was safe...at least for now.

But Laird Stefan Macgregor had a thing on his mind he could not dismiss. So one evening, he gathered his clan and proclaimed an edict.

For all the women he said, “Heretofore, no lass will be betrothed to a lad she dinna want.”

For his father and his grandmother’s sake, he said, “Heretofore, any lad who forces a lass shall be put to death.”

And for Jirvel and Kannak, he said, “Heretofore, any lad who lays hand on a lass, a laddie or a lassie out of anger, or drunkenness, or spite, shall also be put to death.”

Therefore, the edict was handed down to all the sons Kannak gave her husband, and from them, it continued to pass from generation to generation.

~ the end ~