“I
dinnae ken what turned Fergueson into the filth he has become or when he turned
so. I cannae believe that ye could become like him. Ye do no more than many
other men yet there are few Rory Ferguesons about. As I have said, there is a
brutal side to every man. ‘Tis but something we must learn to control. The
beast in Rory cannae be controlled; it just grows stronger. Rory cannae change
what he is. The rot is too strong. I dinnae really think ye are so afflicted.
Ye can change.”
Seeing
that the fear in Artair’s expression was only mildly lessened, Parlan
desperately sought some other tact. “Here now, Artair, ye havenae coldly
murdered some innocent have ye?”
“Nay.”
There was a hint of outrage in Artair’s voice.
“Aye,
and ye have no thought to do so. Rory has. He was younger than ye when he murdered
Kirstie Mengue. I wouldnae be surprised to find that there were other deaths or
near ones before that. I ken weel there were others after that. His kin or his
man, Geordie, kept the truth weel hid. I would wager there were other signs of
his madness, things to indicate the seed of it and more as the seed flowered.
Aye, ye have been a woe at times, but there has never been any real meanness in
ye.”
“But
ye said that to ignore a lass’s nays and to strike a woman is wrong.”
“Aye,
wrong and I heavily disapprove, but as I said ye do no more than many another
man. ‘Tis legal for a man to beat his wife yet I think one who does try to rule
his woman with his fist isnae much of a man. There is no honor in beating one
who cannae really stop ye though they might try. And, I dinnae see it as my
right to take a woman as I please or where I please. So too have I seen what
rape and brutality can do to a lass and ‘tisnae right. Ye willnae find a lot
that agree with me though.”
“Nay,
but I begin to. I have”—he took a deep breath and faced Parlan squarely—“weel,
I have recognized the folly of wallowing in drink and the stews. There is
naught there for me but the pox or death. I dinnae want to say I have had some
sense beaten into me but, in a way, I have. I couldnae drink, ye ken, and being
without it made me think a lot on what I have been doing.”
“‘Tis
glad I am to hear this though, I dinnae quite understand why ye say ye couldnae
drink. There is plenty about.”
“Aye,
but it wasnae brought anywhere near my chambers. Malcolm and Lagan, aye, even
Leith, felt it best if I suffered a clear head for a wee while. I wasnae too
pleased at first but I ken they intended only good. I sorely wanted to drown in
it too when I began to think too clearly and too much, when I began to see what
a useless fool I have been acting.”
He
shrugged and attempted a smile. “I but came to say that I mean to change.
T’will take some time, I ken, if only to gain some respect from the people
here. I ken that I lost whatever I had by my own actions so I must win it back
on my own.”
Deeply
moved and feeling hopeful for the first time in far too long, Parlan heartily
embraced his brother. “Ye ken that I am willing to help in any way that I can.”
“Aye,
but I also ken that this is mostly my own fight. Weel,” Artair said, smiling
faintly as Parlan released him, “that is that chore done. Now I have but one
more to do.” Grimacing, he jested weakly, “Best I see to it whilst I still feel
ready to be humble and to confess to fault and errors.”
Parlan
grinned briefly, then asked, “What is it?”
“I
must yet seek Aimil’s forgiveness.”
Aimil
sighed and stared into the flames of the fire. She found it tedious to sit
alone, waiting for the heat of the fire to dry her newly-washed hair. When a
rap came at the door of her chambers, she eagerly bade the visitor enter only
to frown slightly when she saw that it was Artair. There had been whispers of a
change in him, but she was not sure she wished to be alone with the young man.
Although, for Parlan’s sake, she had tried to dismiss it she could not forget
that he had intended, at one point, to beat and to rape her. To have him near
when she was alone and wearing only a robe unsettled her.
“I
am quite sober,” he murmured as he approached her, “and I swear I willnae touch
ye.”
Determined
to give him a chance since he was Parlan’s only close kin, she indicated the
other stool before the fire. “Sit down.”
Somewhat
stiffly he did so. “I have come to ask forgiveness for my attack upon ye.”
“Ye
were drunk, verra fou, in truth.”
“Aye,
but I cannae hide behind that any longer. I will confess that it took me some
time to see what I had done as wrong. To me, ye were naught but some captive,
and I could do as I wished. Beyond that, ye were also just a lass. I believed
the ones who called Parlan a soft-hearted fool for his beliefs about how women
should be treated. Few think as he does. Weel, now I see the right of his
thinking. A lass has a right to say nay, and ‘tis naught but a weakness in a
man to use his greater strength over the weaker to bend them to his will. ‘Tis
a strong man who kens when not to use his fists.”
“Then
ye have learned a great deal and, aye, ye have my forgiveness. I give it fully
and easily.”
“Ye
say that because ‘tis what ye think will please Parlan.”
“In
part, aye. What I did because ye are Parlan’s only brother, his nearest kin,
was to let ye speak to me at all. ‘Tis for Parlan that ye even got inside the door.
The rest is my own doing. I wasnae but mouthing words for Parlan’s ears but
from the heart.”
“Then
I thank ye—from the heart. ‘Tis a comfort to ken that I willnae be starting
this change in my ways with what little kin I do have set against me. I think
t’will be quite hard enough as it is.”
“Change
is never easy. Ye have seen your weaknesses and your errors. That is the
hardest step to take. Have ye spoken to Parlan?”
“Aye,
and it proved a two-edged sword. I was pleased to make him happy yet to see how
happy simply speaking of changing made him caused me to see how unhappy I have
made him in the past. I was keenly aware of how I had failed him.”
“Weel,
he is happy now and that is what matters most. Ye cannae brood too long upon
the past. ‘Tis the future ye must look to. To think too long on what ye could
have done or should have done will take time better used to see what ye must do
now.”
Before
he could make any reply, a rap came at the chamber door. When Aimil bid the
person to enter, she had to bite back a smile. Giorsal entered with a big smile
on her face only to stop and glare at Artair who smiled crookedly.
“Ye
told her.”
“Aye,
Artair, I did and now I will tell her that all is forgiven.” She looked sternly
at Giorsal.
“And
I am to fall into step with that?” Giorsal moved to stand next to Aimil.
“Aye,
t’would be nice.”
“Oh,
verra weel then.”
“A
most grudging forgiveness but sincere for all that.” She met Giorsal’s glare
with a smile.
Artair
laughed softly as he stood to leave. “The time for the wedding must draw near.
I will go to see if I can be of any help.”
“Ye
forgive verra easily,” Giorsal said as soon as Artair was gone. “I dinnae think
I would do so.”
“He
means to change and now sees that he acted wrongly. I couldnae reward that by
refusing to understand and to forgive. If naught else, I couldnae bear to be
the one to hinder his changing. If he returned to the alehouses and whorehouses
to wallow in that filth, I would always wonder if t’was my inability to forgive
that caused him to stumble. Right now he needs the strength friendship can
give.”
“Aye,
ye are right in that. Come now, ‘tis time to dress for your wedding.” She took
Aimil by the hand and urged her to her feet.
“Ah,
so the time does indeed draw near.”
“Ye
dinnae look as happy as I thought ye would be. Dinnae ye wish to wed Parlan?”
“Aye,
I do but I do not. There shines a contrary nature, eh?” She tried to smile but
felt sure it was a miserable effort.
“A
troubled nature to be certain. Come, ye can tell me all that frets ye as I help
ye dress, and I shall tell ye what a foolish, wee lass ye are.”
“I
think I have been told that quite enough, thank ye kindly.” Aimil shed her
robe.
“Clearly
ye havenae been listening or ye wouldnae be so dowie when ye are soon to get
what I ken weel ye want.”
“Does
my back look verra unsightly?”
“Nay,
it doesnae as I am certain ye ken weel. Dinnae try to divert me. Talk, child.
‘Tis the best way.”
Aimil
knew that was true. She simply was not sure of how to explain all that troubled
her. As Giorsal helped her dress, she struggled to find the right words, words
that would make Giorsal understand her worries and fears.
“I
do want to be Parlan’s wife. ‘Tis something I have wanted for a verra long
time. ‘Tis just that I wished him to ask me for reasons other than what sets in
my womb. He weds me because I carry his heir.”
“To
get an heir is the reason most men wed. If t’was allowed, I wouldnae be
surprised if most of them waited to stand before a priest until their seed took
root in some woman’s belly.”
“Most
likely that is true, but ‘tis not why I wish to be stood before a priest.”
“Did
Parlan say t’was naught but the bairn that he was wedding ye for?”
“Weel,
nay.”
“What
did he say?”
“He
said I was the first to carry his bairn, that he was always careful in the past
to keep his seed from taking root. He said he didnae want to take such care
with me, that he liked and trusted me. No lover’s vows those.”
“Mayhaps
not in your eyes but ‘tis no small thing for a man to feel so for a woman. Some
wives never gain as much.”
“I
ken it. It doesnae stop me from wanting more though. I am friend and lover to
him and weel I ken the value of that. Though I curse myself for a greedy,
ungrateful wretch, I still want more.”
“Ye
want him to love ye, love ye as ye love him and that is a lot, isnae it, Aimil?”
Giorsal gently bade Aimil to sit down and began to brush out her hair.
“I
never said so.”
“Nay,
not plainly but it shone through each word whenever ye spoke of Parlan. I
kenned it from the first.”
“Do
ye think Parlan has seen it?” Aimil was dismayed by the thought that her
feelings could be so easily read.
“Most
likely not. Men can be verra blind about such things. Och, listen to me. So can
women. Look at me. I ken now that Iain has loved me from the start, but I never
heeded it. I see only now, after all the years we have been together, what he
has shown me so clearly in all he did. I had to discover my own love for him
before I saw his love for me, before he even dared speak it aloud.”
Shaking
her head, Giorsal continued, “When I first realized ye had fallen in love with
the man, I was sore worried for ye. There were some verra dark things said
about him, and he looked dark and fierce enough for them to be true. I soon
realized that he had been sorely slandered by rumor, but I still worried over
ye for he is, weel, as Iain says, ‘such a great lad.’” She smiled faintly when
Aimil laughed. “It took awhile before I saw that ye arenae troubled or afeard,
that ye can manage what seems to be a great deal of man.”
“Aye,
manage him, but can I hold him? Can I keep his hungers sated so that he doesnae
answer the lure of others?”
“Has
he been unfaithful to ye?” Finished with Aimil’s hair, Giorsal sat down to face
her sister.
“I
think not. Nay, I ken he hasnae been. He didnae even tumble Catarine though she
did all in her power to draw him to her bed. He did travel to the Dunmore keep,
but even in that short while he was out of my sight, I dinnae feel he turned
elsewhere.”
“Then
why do ye fash yourself over it? He has been faithful when he wasnae bound by
any oath or vow to be.”
“Aye,
but the passion between us is still hot and new. What happens when that wanes
as it will do, if only in some ways? ‘Tis love that keeps one person trying to
stay faithful to another. He hasnae given me any words to make me even think he
loves me.”
“Ah,
Giorsal, I love him so much that, at times, it frightens me. I daren’t even
think of him with another. I fear it would tear me to pieces if he began to
seek his pleasures elsewhere, if he decided that my being his lover, his
friend, and the mother of his bairns was not enough to satisfy all his needs.
Worse, I fear I would tear us apart in my pain.”
Taking
Aimil’s hand in hers, Giorsal sought words to soothe her sister’s worries. “Aye,
he could turn to other women, but then what he already feels for ye could turn
to love. Look again at what happened in my marriage. Iain loved me but I didnae
love him at all. For five long years he was patient, quietly loved me, and has
gained what he sought. I now love him back and dearly so. I am loath to admit
it, but I was not even a good friend and lover to him though he tried to be to
me.”