Highlander's Trials of Fire

When Tormod Dunaidh had proposed to her the previous year, it was all her fears come true. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive–of course, she did, she’d be a fool not to. Both Tormod and his wirier cousin were known across the realm for their handsome dark looks, as had been their fathers before them.

But Tormod…he had tried to court her, she knew that, and perhaps she was a little to blame for encouraging it. What else was she to do, though? The truth was, he was an extraordinarily tall and muscled man, wild-looking with his hair and beard, and he frightened her a little.

It wasn’t that she thought him a bad man. Something about him and his rough manner and vast bulk intimidated her. She could not bring herself to get to know him without being worried he might snap. When he proposed, his father had just died. How was she to know it would not turn him as wild as he looked?

So she had turned down the suit, just as she had turned down all the others, and now she spent another winter alone.

It was raining heavily. There had been no snow at all this year, except on the highest peaks, and it made Anabella feel rather miserable. The loch had not frozen over, and the rivers ran unchecked, their banks swelling by the day as the water fell unfrozen from the sky day by day.

She was not unduly worried. The Galloway lands were in a valley, dipping between the higher grounds that homed their neighbors. Their men had been keeping a close eye on the loch and its associated rivers, and on the rainfall, but there was no fear of flooding as far as they could tell.

At least that would be some form of excitement. Instead, I shall spend another winter, single and grumpy, and now damp.

Anabella sighed, putting down her hairbrush and heading to slip between the covers in her bed. She may love snow, but she hated this kind of rain. The light showers of summer were lovely–welcome, even when they brought coolness with them–but the heavy winter rain that never seemed to stop bothered her. It took the snow from her and clouded the sky so that she could not even see the moon.

Her grandmother had always called her a selkie before she’d died four years previously. Closing her eyes and trying to fall asleep to the sound of rain drumming against the walls, she could hear Granny even now.

“Me wee selkie lass, ye are nae complete without the water and the moon. I cannae wait to meet the laddie who’s finally able to steal yer coat and bind ye to his heart.”

It was a romantic image and one that Anabella had remembered every time she was courted since. Because that was what she wanted, even though the faerie tales often ended tragically. She wanted a man who loved her, adored her, and stole her whole heart away.

But instead, here she lay, ready to sleep alone once more. Perhaps she would always be such.

When she slept, she dreamed that she was one of a pod of seals dancing in the waves. A towering, shadowy figure waited on the beach, under the light of the full moon, waiting to embrace her. Excited, she began to swim toward him, knowing that if she reached the shore, she would have found her love at last.

Mo chidre. Me heart. Wait for me.

Anabella shot awake as the door to her room clattered open, and her mother’s shrill, scared voice echoed in her ears.

“Ana, hurry! Grab only what ye can carry; we need to get out of here now!” Ceit was shrieking as she shook Anabella by the shoulders. “Damn it all, lass, wake up!”

Frightened, Anabella opened her eyes. Her mother’s face was drawn, pale, and tear-streaked, and inches from her own as Ceit tried to drag Anabella out of bed. “Maither? What…what’s happenin’–”

“Nae time. Gather whatever is precious to ye and a change of clothes,” Ceit instructed.

Anabella pushed herself out of bed, trying to fight through the blur of sleep that was clouding her thoughts. The rain pounded more heavily than ever against the walls, drowning out almost all sounds except her mother right next to her ear. “Maither…what–”

“The banks have burst, mo ghràdh. The Nether District of town is gone. The Upper District is battlin’ back the water. It willnae be long until the Castle is swept under and all,” Ceit told her urgently. “Gather yer things and let’s go.”

The banks? Surely she meant the riverbanks and not the loch. Undoubtedly, the lovely loch where Anabella swam and skated could not have betrayed her like this. There must be a mistake. Someone must have misunderstood. She ran to the window, which saw far out over the town.

Unlike many Lairds, Galloway’s Castle was dead center in the middle of the Upper District of the town of Bailedún. It had been purposely built that way, with the town forming around it, by Anabella’s great-great-something grandfather. As the town had expanded beyond the circling walls, it had split into two districts–the Upper District, where the more affluent folk made their homes–and the Nether, by the lochside.

I’ve always loved the Nether District most. It’s where the best shops and the friendliest of people are.

Anabella spent a lot of time there, especially when she was younger, socializing with the poorer girls who always had the most fun games. Nowadays, she spent a lot of time at the provisioner’s shop, where there was always a fresh apple or some sweet left out from the latest soldier’s pack and waiting for her.

And best of all, she could see the Nether District from her room. She could wake in the morning and see the lower town rising, so much earlier than the Upper District or even most of the Castle. She loved watching them go about their mornings, serving as a real inspiration to her for her future.

I’ll never be the ruler of Galloway, but when I’m wed, I want to provide for me people just as we provide for this town and the rest of the Clan.

But now, when she looked out, the rain was coming down in thicker sheets than she’d ever seen–so thick that she could not see anything, much less the distant Nether District.

“Gone?” she repeated faintly. “What…what do ye mean that it’s gone? How can a whole district of town be gone? What about the people? The property–”

“Much of it is washed away, but we dinnae ken the extent of the damage yet,” Ceit told her.

Her mother was now rushing about Anabella’s room, grabbing things at seemingly random and stuffing them into a bag. “Some of the villagers made it up to the Upper Lands, but many–” she trailed off.