Authors: Carmella Jones
2.
Katherine felt Killian's arms around her and sighed comfortably. She was glad to welcome her warrior back to their tiny camp. She was once a noblewoman and used to the finer things in life, but upon seeing Killian for the first time, she knew that he had the power not only to sway her heart but to change her entire existence. She recalled the first time she laid eyes on him. He was pretending to be merely a foot soldier standing guard at a meeting where her father was holding peace talks. The talks were not going as planned, and tensions were high. She had never seen such a beautiful man. She admired the way his long, dark hair fell over his shoulders and the swoop of his neck gracefully juxtaposed against his hardened shoulder muscles. His jaw muscles were tight, and though his lips were locked in a poker face while standing guard, Katherine couldn't help notice their thickness. She imagined how good it would feel to have those lips on hers.
To any other woman he would have been just another foot soldier, but Katherine sensed something special about Killian. She looked into his deep blue eyes and saw not only something wild and untamed, but also saw softness and a bit of sadness. She knew that many of his people were already killed in the skirmish. She also knew that the war was not going to end well for his people, as she often heard her father curse their entire race in the interest of profit. Her father and his vast number of loyal followers, including his army that numbered in the thousands, were going to reclaim the land no matter what the cost. As she attempted to steady her breathing, she certainly hoped that this particular soldier lived through the battle.
Katherine felt Killian stir and realized that she had gotten lost in her memories. There was much to be done to prepare for the evening. Before she allowed Killian the opportunity to rest she pulled him closer to her and whispered in his ear. She was learning a bit of his native Gaelic and knew that pleased Killian deep down. He was proud of his heritage and was glad she wanted to share that with him. She kissed him on the cheek, saying, “Killian. Welcome home my love. Will you stay?”
“Aye. I will stay a fortnight, and many days thereafter. I will stay until your ghost drags me kickin’ and screamin’ away from your corpse.”
“I wouldn't have it any other way. But who says I'm going to be the one to go first?”
Pointing at Langley, he chuckled and walked over to sit by the fire with his friend. “Well, ye have to put up with this one more than I do. He's goin’ to put ye in an early grave.”
“I don't mind him. I think it's you who's going to be giving me the grey hair and crow's feet. You are an impossibly difficult man at times, my love. “
“Aye. A difficult man who ye would not be without. Besides, I don't care if ye do have the grey hair or crow’s feet. As long as there is breath in your body that means I have someone I can call home.”
Katherine noted the use of the word “someone” as opposed to “somewhere,” and smiled. In his own way Killian had a way with words. As she began unpacking the fillets and cutting them into smaller strips to prepare with a few potatoes and salt and pepper she managed to find, she observed Killian and Langley talking by the fire. Both men appeared jovial, but Katherine knew their joy would not last long. Her father's army was vast and it was coming for all of the Scots, not just them. They would find Killian and Langley and murder them. Katherine shuddered and grew cold inside thinking of what fate would await them if they were caught or captured. Even the bravest warriors had their limitations, and these brave men would surely be the type of solider her father would want to make an example of.
She finished preparing the meal for roasting and set the pan on the roaring fire, immediately hearing the sizzle and crack of meat. Killian had outdone himself this time with his hunting skills. She gave a silent nod of thanks to him for providing the meal. She knew it was not easy work, but one day she hoped to learn how to hunt properly so she could do that part of the household work as well. Killian was different from almost any man she had ever met in that regard. He passed no judgment or placed no emphasis on her gender when jobs needed to be completed. He would gladly take the help from whomever offered. She thought this made him wise.
Sitting down on the log seat beside him in front of the fire, she laid her head on Killian's shoulder. The pair stayed that way for quite some time, watching the flames dance and listening to the stillness in the air. Katherine closed her eyes and felt his warmth throughout her body. “Look,” he said, pointing upwards to the stars. “There's Orion. That means it is a good night to be a warrior and I must certainly agree with him. We will all rest well this night.”
“That we will, my love. That we will.”
3.
The King roared at his head of security while standing outside in the palace gardens. “What do you mean she's gone?! You will find my daughter and you will find her now, or it's your head on a pike outside these walls! Do you understand me?!”
The knight knelt humbly in front of him, then raced off to collect his troops to begin the search party. King Stefan ran his hands through his hair and shook his head in frustration. He walked back into the castle cursing himself. He should have known better, had better insights into his daughter's mood. Opening the castle doors and walking to his study, he looked down at the map of the countryside. Recalling the day the opposing army was there to discuss a peace treaty, he remembered Katherine's body language as she sat up higher in her chair, never taking her eyes off of the soldiers in attendance.
Out of the corner of his eye he had seen his daughter making eye contact with the soldier, and she blushed slightly. She was quiet at dinner that night. They sat around after eating their mutton chops and Stefan decided to broach the subject with his daughter. “So, Katherine, what do you think about the current state of affairs with the Scots?”
“I know we need to acquire their kingdoms and towns, but you know that I don't like the notion of war, Father.”
“Ah, you have always been my delicate flower. You know just as well as I do that war is essential sometimes.”
“I just hate the thought of you and the rest of the family going into battle. Even though you are proficient in fighting, I don't know what I would do if anything should happen to you.”
“Don't worry, my Katherine, I already have a plan set up for you in case something terrible should befall me. You'll be taken of regardless of the situation, though I do so wish for you to have a husband before I expire. Are there any prospects I should know about?”
Katherine paused and took a bite of her dessert, a blackberry pie, and looked at her father. She was suddenly aware of the worry lines in his forehead and his grey hair. He was growing old before her eyes and wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.
“Not that I can speak of at this moment. I really haven't been considering anyone.”
“You know that if you do find someone, you can always talk to me about it.”
Kathrine stood up and kissed her father on the forehead, saying, “I know. If someone should come up, you'll be the first to know.”
“I certainly hope so. Just be sure he's a proper Englishman and I'm sure he will be fine.”
He noticed Katherine cast her eyes downward again as she busied herself picking up the dinner plates to take them to the kitchen so the kitchen wench could begin tidying up. He was like any other father in the regard that he only wanted what was best for his daughter. He was getting older, though, and wished she would soon find a husband to take care of her in the event of his death. It wasn't good to be alone in the world. He had lost his wife a few years back, and he would have traded all the riches in his kingdom for one more night with her.
Despite his leadership style in ruling his kingdom, he was kind to his wife and daughter; it was them and them only who would hear the soft tones in his voice. He allowed only them to see the sensitivity in his eyes as opposed to the steel. That steel had returned to his eyes once again when he returned to his study and looked down at a map. They could be anywhere. He didn't know the young soldier's intentions with his daughter, but he was a Scotsman, so he couldn't be trusted. They were all nothing but knaves and rogues. It was his duty to eliminate them from the face of the earth, restore England to its greatness, and eliminate the plague on humanity their kind brought.
The same rage bubbled through him now as it did the day he caught them together. The day after following the peace talks, he rounded the corner of one of the upstairs turrets, hoping to find Katherine to ask her opinion on the new drapes he ordered for the drawing room. He found the pair locked in a passionate embrace. The Scot had his arms around her and they were backed into a corner, their lips locked together. Stefan pulled his sword, and the sound of forged steel scraping against its sheath echoed through the hallway. “Get away from my daughter!”
Killian, slow to anger, yet not one to back down from a fight, spun around and placed Katherine protectively behind him. “I will do no such thing. I'm in love with your daughter. Ye must now know this.”
“My daughter will not love such an abomination as yourself. Guards!! Seize our intruder!”
Before he could become surrounded, Killian drew out his own dagger and kissed Katherine swiftly once more, saying, “I'll be back for ye, my darlin'. ” One of the guards charged at him, and Killian made quick work of fending off his attack, then ran off down the hallway, climbing out a window and scaling the castle walls downward to his escape. Katherine, terrified from the scuffle, faced her father's wrath trembling with fear and shame.
“What were you thinking?! Don't stand there and tell me you're in love with that scoundrel!”
“I am, Father!”
“You are merely in lust. Surely he's got you under some kind of pagan spell. This is nothing more than some type of magical curse, Katherine. You're not to see him again. When I find him, you can visit his head on a stake outside our walls. Until then, you're not to leave the castle. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Very good then. I shall see you in the morning. I must take my leave now.”
Rousing himself from the painful memory, Stefan looked at the various ports and towns on his map in an effort to pinpoint where they would be going, but it was to no avail. They could be at any number of them. He would canvas them all until he found his daughter. No pagan witchcraft was going to take her from him. She was the only good thing he had left in the world.
4.
The following morning Langley extinguished the campfire, sending smoke and ashes through the air. It was time for them to continue on their journey. They all gathered up their supplies and began walking north alongside the river. Katherine walked in between Killian and Langley as the men formed a protective barrier around her. Langley carried most of the supplies, as he was the stouter of the two men. He was the epitome of a true Scotsman. He was broad chested with a full beard, wild red hair, and gleaming green eyes. He was jovial on most occasions, but when angered turned into a pure brute. Killian carried less, but stood ready with his bow in case of enemy attack. They had much ground to cover today, so their breaks would be less frequent; they needed to make it to see the high priest before being discovered by Stefan.
“Langley, how much longer do you think we have before we arrive?”
“I'm not quite sure, Miss. I've ne'er known an'one who’s met the high priest.”
Killian interjected, “Well, ye see, people marry all the time in our culture, it's just that an outsider of any of the clans in a wedding such as ours would have to be blessed by the high priest to maintain its validity.”
Langley then added, “The thing is, the high priest keeps his location a secret. No one really knows the exact directions to his dwelling. He went into hiding decades ago and has not emerged since. Some people don't even believe he's real. Others think he is real, but is blessed with powers, or is immortal.”
“So we're basically chasing ghosts?” Katherine asked.
“In a way. I think he's very much alive, though. Just a recluse, who’s gotten closer to God than others because of his isolation.”
Katherine nodded in response and the trio kept moving forward. She was fascinated by the mystery and secrecy regarding their customs and religion. She knew that Killian was spiritual because she could feel his soul stirring and mingling with her own when he kissed her deeply. But she didn't realize that there was so much ritual in their pagan roots. Killian would sometimes pause and kneel along the way, picking up sticks along the path, and close his eyes. When Katherine asked what he was doing, he just smiled thinly and said, “Aye, ye caught me. Prayin' I was, albeit not to any God ye would know about.”
When Katherine probed further, Killian explained that the elements in nature corresponded to a particular God. He was asking the earth God for sureness of foot in their travels and further direction to the high priest. The high priest would maintain a connection with all the deities and beings of the Earth, so of course they would in turn know how to find him. He would simply follow their energies to him. Like a spiritual bloodhound, he did the same thing in the shallow end of the river when they stopped to take a break. He would close his eyes, then stare into the water for a few moments before taking a small sip and nodding his head. They continued toward the north, and as they did so the air got thicker and heavier. Their breathing became more labored as night was getting ready to fall.
Langley put his hand in the air signaling for Killian to stop. They had reached a shady clearing near the top of a knoll. “Killian, I say we bed down here for the night. The dark is fast approaching. We wouldn't make it there before the blackest of midnight.”
“Aye. I agree with ye. Go ahead and start building the fire. I'll thrash the beds.”
They made camp and then stretched out their bodies before the fire while Katherine made dinner. It was the same dinner she had made the previous night, only this time she added some carrots they had found growing wild along the way. They were obviously overgrowth from someone's garden, but they were outside of any boundary marker, so she gladly gathered them. She knew the men would be grateful for some variety in their diet, and she was glad she could contribute something to their journey. Katherine peeled the vegetable with her paring knife and added them to the pan with the potatoes and meat.
After the meal was prepared, she joined the men and they had supper around the roaring fire, but the mood was somber and they were exhausted from their long trek that day. It was the kind of night in which Killian was on edge and Langley would snore too loudly, making it impossible for anyone else to slumber deeply. As the fire died down, Katherine snuggled into Killian closer for warmth. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and she laid her head on his chest, finally drifting off to the sound of his heartbeat, while he stayed in a state halfway between dreaming and wakefulness, on alert.