If My Heart Could See You (The MacLarens 1)

Five

Amiria stood in the solar once used by her mother and spoke in hushed tones to Thomas and Devon as they guarded the locked door. She continuously looked to the other occupants of the room in the hopes they would not over hear their conversation. ’Twould not bode well to have her family any more frightened than they already were.

“You are sure?” she questioned softly.

“My lady, we were most diligent in our search,” Thomas replied in equally subdued tones.

“Then why has my brother not been found? I saw with my own eyes his fall beyond the outer bailey. Surely it does not take the whole garrison to find his body,” she said in irritation.

“Mayhap the English saw him buried,” Devon suggested.

“Hush you fool,” Thomas interjected. “Do you want to cause our lady to be ill?”

“I was just trying tae help,” he replied.

“’Tis not help you are giving,” Thomas argued whilst rolling his eyes at Devon who was the youngest of Amiria’s guards. “Now remain silent.”

“Cease your bickering, both of you, afore you alert the others aught is amiss,” Amiria said and took a moment to clarify her thoughts. “Are you allowed free movement about the keep and grounds?”

Thomas nodded, “Aye, so far, but the Dragon already talks of time in the lists to see how we have been trained. I think he waits for the storm to pass afore he begins to test us.”

“He is the Devil’s servant,” Devon replied, as he crossed himself. “’Tis best we stay in his good graces, or we may end up serving his master residing in hell! Or, mayhap, even cursed fer all eternity.”

“Enough of your nonsense,” Amiria spat, “he is naught but a man.” She was still trying to get used to having Devon as part of her guard instead of a childhood friend she had gotten into mischief with in her youth. I will need to exert an extra dose of patience where he is concerned, she thought with a heavy sigh.

She noticed how Devon gazed at her with his doubts clearly written upon his face. He once more made the sign of the cross and then, for good measure, spat over his right shoulder. Amazed at his audacity, she could not resist asking, “Mayhap, you should do the same over your left side just to be extra cautious?” Afore she could tell him she but jested, he did just that, but twice more to be safe. “Deliver me from imbeciles, Thomas.”

“You cannot fault him his beliefs, my lady. I’ve done the same myself a time or two.”

“I suppose spells and curses from the underworld should not be taken lightly,” she replied quietly, and crossed herself, as well, for good measure, then looked upon Devon, smiling in satisfaction to appease God above. “I’ve had enough of this speech of hexes and that dragon below whom we must serve. I must think of finding Aiden at all costs.

“Do what you must, as discreetly as possible, and see if any of the serfs have by chance seen where he has been buried. I cannot rest ’til I know he yet lives or where his grave lies. Somehow, if he were in truth gone from this world, I think I would know it within me, and yet I still feel a cold numbness of hope surrounding my heart,” Amiria said in weariness and gave her men a brief nod of dismissal.

The two men bowed to her and left the solar, and Amiria went to sit on a vacant stool next to her sisters and brother who were also near the blazing hearth. Sabina, who was ten and seven, had her mother’s dark brown hair, but had inherited none of the sweet disposition their dame had possessed. Her features were sharp and her eyes, which were too often filled with the look of hatred, were an eerie golden brown, almost like that of a hawk. She had oft wondered how Sabina came to be so bitter. Amiria found her sister callous and demanding and spent as little time in her company as was possible.

Lynet was the complete opposite at only ten and four. No matter the circumstances, the young girl always saw the bright side to things with the innocence of the young at heart. A smile could readily be seen on her face, with the exception of these past months and now as their sire had been laid to rest. Even so, she looked up at her sister with adoring eyes. Her golden blonde hair shone from the reflection of the flames and her clear blue eyes held a radiance few could hope to compare. Amiria smiled at the sweetness of the young girl’s demeanor.

Her gaze at last fell on the forlorn little boy of only eight summers with shiny black hair, who could only stare into the fire with a lost look upon his face. His dark brown eyes held no joy. Amiria knew that no comforting words could alter the fact his laird was dead and older brother missing amongst the departed. Her heart sank at the loss of his childhood, as no boy should lose both of his hero’s in one bad stroke of fate. She knew ’twould be sometime afore she once more heard Patrick’s cheerful laughter ring out as he pretended to save her from evil with the forgotten wooden sword now lying on the floor near his feet.

What a mismatched group of siblings we are, for we are nothing alike, she thought to herself. Looking at us, one would think we had different parents than the two that bore us all. Amiria gazed reflectively again at her siblings and then shook off the horrible thoughts of her mother possibly straying from their father. She would not be the first wife to do so, and yet she hated thinking of her mother in such a manner.

Pondering the memory of her mother only brought more sorrow to her already broken heart as she had been very close to her. ’Twas giving birth to Patrick that cost her beloved mother her life and she watched as her father grieved for his love as she had never seen afore. Amiria could only envision the wonder of having a husband whom she could love in a like manner and have that love returned tenfold. Since her father never found a betrothed worthy enough for her, she had her doubts she would find the man on her own. Those who had come in the past only saw her for her dowry and saw nothing of the woman who they would take to wife.

Taking a poker from the hearth, she plunged it into the crimson, fiery coals then turned and poured herself a mug of wine. She sprinkled a few dried herbs into her cup and plunged the red hot iron into the brew to mull. A sweet aroma filled the air and for a moment the smell reminded her of when her mother would perform this small act for her father. ’Twas almost as if she could feel her parents’ calming presence in the room.

Closing her eyes for a brief respite from the hell her life had become, she envisioned her parents and Aiden standing afore her. She and her twin had been inseparable as youths and could be counted on to finish each other’s sentences, to the irritation of Sabina. Of course, her poor younger sister had suffered terribly from their pranks. Amiria had to admit she had been prone, just as badly as her twin, to put a squiggly worm or two down her sister’s dress or slimy toads into her shoes. They had never had the heart to do such to Lynet, and perchance this was the cause of Sabina’s growing abhorrence of her youngest sister. Thinking of her twin, she knew in her heart, if he were in truth gone from this world and in heaven with their parents, she would have felt it with every fiber of her being. Since she could feel nothing but dread, she could only pray he yet lived.

As Amiria remembered her childhood, she could still see her father’s face when he had come across Aiden teaching her how to use a sword. Aghast that his son would allow his sister to use a sharpened weapon of war, he had scolded Aiden ’til even her ears had felt burnt from the heat of their father’s words. ’Twas only through her mother’s gentle coaxing that evening as she soothed their sire, that he had decided to see to her training himself. He was amused by her skill at such a tender age, but Amiria could also remember the pleasure in his eyes at her progress. Never one to disappoint her father and always looking for praise from him, she had doubled her efforts to learn as best she could. It had been clear, however, the only chance she would ever use such a weapon was for practicing with her father, Aiden, or Ian. Her father never allowed anyone else to train with her and had made it perfectly clear her sword was never to be used for the defense of their home. That would only be done by well-trained seasoned warriors of the clan.

Amiria opened her eyes, looked at her siblings, and thought on the words she had given them but a while ago. Patrick was equally confused by his older sister’s dress and could not understand the ruse of portraying her twin she had deployed for their new liege. Amiria was determined to do whatever it took to protect her clan and those she loved. She could almost feel the horrific omen sure to crash down over her head with the tale she had told, and knew the amount of penance she would pay for the sin of lying. Her knees ached at the very thought of the hours ahead of her on the hard, cold chapel floor.

Her time for day dreaming came to an abrupt halt with the opening of the solar door. Ian and Nevin entered with looks of displeasure. Clearly ’twas not a good sign of what was yet to come.

“He asks for you, Amiria . . . or I should say he asks for Aiden,” Ian growled. “I dare not say him nay.”

“Then let us be on our way to see our lord dragon, Ian,” she declared, setting down her now cool wine.

“He requests all of you to come afore him,” Nevin added. “Why he wants to see the bairn’s, I know not.”

“’Tis not surprising, Sir Nevin, since my siblings are now his charges and he will see to their best interests, or so I hope,” Amiria answered quietly. “Come, children. We must pay homage to our new liege lord.”

“He is no lord of mine,” Sabina answered snidely, “and I am certainly no child!”

“Watch your shrewish tongue sister, afore you bring the wrath of yon dragon down upon our heads,” Amiria replied sharply.

Sabina looked at her with hatred pouring from her eyes. “Who are you to tell me what to do? You are not lady of this hall, nor are you my mother. You have no right to speak to me so,” she yelled.

Ian at last stepped forward between the two young women, who now stood toe to toe and looked ready to pull each other’s hair out. “Cease your caterwauling and think of your younger siblings for once in your life, Lady Sabina. Do you want them cowering afore their new lord? You are the proud descendants of clan MacLaren and have their blood flowing through your veins! Remember my words and your station in life that you do not disgrace those who have already left this world afore you. I believe your father would rather look down from heaven and see you all standing afore the English with honor than trembling with fear.”

Sabina stared with open mouthed wonder at his words. She shook with anger that he would speak to her so, especially in front of others. “How dare you!” she exclaimed once she found her voice.

“I will dare much to guard and protect this family, as I swore to our laird. ’Til I am told otherwise by our new lord, I will continue with my duties as I have done these many years,” Ian chided. “Now come . . . you must pay homage to our liege, so do not further test my patience this day, wee one.”

Sabina’s mouth snapped shut, and she threw Ian a cold glare of hatred whilst she strode through the door Nevin held open for her.

Amiria took Patrick’s hand in hers and followed behind Lynet. She chanced one small look in Ian’s direction as she passed his way. The anger she saw in the depths of his eyes all but told her something was afoot, and ’twas not to his liking. She had a hunch she would not care for what she learned either, once she made her way down to the Great Hall to confront the dragon below. Giving a heavy sigh of weariness, she wished just once she could put off the inevitable.

Hugh squinted into the dimness of the pit whilst he felt something slither for what seemed like the hundredth time across his legs. He was cold, wet, and tired of the mire that continuously seeped through his hose, leaving him chilled to the bone. Having lost track of time, he had tried to climb the walls of his slime-infested prison, but to no avail. ’Twould be no escaping his tomb ’til someone at last remembered his location and lowered a ladder so he could escape to freedom.

Yet ’twas only a matter of time ’til said freedom was granted, and ’til then he would plot his retaliation against Dristan of Blackmore. With thoughts of vengeance running rampant through his head, Hugh smiled for the first time in days, and his malicious laughter echoed off the walls, declaring impending misfortune of what was yet to come.