Chapter One
The Meeting
“Mamma, mamma.” During the attack, with swords clanging all about her, five-year-old Elayne screamed inside the castle that had been their home. Where was her father? The fear in her mother’s face sparked high anxiety as she kissed and hugged her child one last time. Elayne heard her mother’s terror in her tremulous voice, and yet, before now, she’d always been fearless, hunting with her father and sword fighting with warriors. She’d always won in combat before, so why should this time strike such fright in her mother’s heart?
Elayne felt warm blood from her mother on her face when her mother told her to hide in the cupboard, draping a necklace with a ring about her neck and tucking it beneath her dress. “I Iove ye and yer father loves ye, Elayne. Be strong and ken ye will always carry our love with ye.” Elayne hid in the cupboard as instructed, and almost as soon as the door closed, she heard heavy footsteps come into the room. Her mother screamed, and Elayne tried hard not to make a sound.
Covered with soot from the fire when discovered later, Elayne was alone and crying, tightly gripping a blanket. Miraculously, she was uninjured, despite her dress being scorched in several places.
As she was forcefully pulled from the cupboard by the housekeeper, Elayne swallowed the fear with the smoke that hung heavy in the air like a wraith, pungent, acrid, and biting. She escaped its clutches outside the castle and in the fresh air, gasping for breath. Smoke billowed in the sky and hung suspended above the castle like a giant cloak about to smother them.
“Mamma,” Elayne cried as she stretched out her arms, wanting comfort from her mother’s embrace. Elayne thought it was raining since the sky above her was so dark, but what rained down was ash. She tasted it on her tongue, as she would for years to come.
Weeks later, after taken on horseback, she found herself in a different clan, this time surrounded by strangers. Initially, when she lived with the blacksmith, the clanging sound of the metal terrified her, sending her headlong into horrid memories. Although hidden in a castle, the former one had failed to keep her safe, which gave her little faith. Both her parents and little brother had died that night, a loss that had pierced her heart permanently.
Elayne had awakened in terror many nights long afterward. The terror that haunted her made her heart pound harder. In her nightmares, her dress was singed by the fire that torched the castle, sending waves of panic through her. Smoke stung her eyes as she tried to flee, yet half of her was desperate to remain in the castle and save her family.I have to find my mother and father. The heavy smoke made it hard to see and breathe, acrid and cloying, clinging to everything.
Upon waking, her parents were merely apparitions she could never help, and the pain of missing them became a thousand knives in her heart.
Present Day, Clan MacPherson
Clang, whack, thump, clang, clangmight have been an ominous cause for alarm, warning of men engaged in combat, but the sounds emerged from the hot forge. The hammer banging on the hot iron on the anvil sounded shrill in the early morning hours. The sound grew louder and tapered in a rhythm as Elayne lifted the hammer and beat on the scalding iron, bent against its will. The metal clanged with each forceful pounding against the anvil until it hissed when plunged into the water to cool.
The fire burned hot, and sparks flew out, often singeing her clothes. At first, the sight sent her into panicky memories of the crisis she had endured so many years before, but she recognized that this was not at all the same, and soon, her sudden memories triggered by her singed clothes ceased.
During daylight, Elayne was forced to wear an old wool dress to protect her from burns, but she sweltered in the heat close to the forge. Although dressed in lighter clothes in the summer, she was often drenched in sweat. Frequently, she worked at night, out of sight of prying eyes, wearing trews and a boy’s coarse shirt with long sleeves.
Elayne had worked at the forge since she was a young girl. As soldiers accompanied the many people into the keep, she wandered into the forge. Often, she recalled the beauty of her mother’s face and lovely voice when she sang. But other memories were buried in pain or lost to time.
The blacksmith, William, a single man, became her parent after he provided shelter and care for her. He’d told her of how it had broken his heart to see how tiny and forlorn she’d looked when she first arrived, with ragged clothes and a dirt-smearedface. The lass reminded him of his baby sister who had died from illness when she was young and bonnie. Elayne served as a more positive reminder of other losses he had been helpless to prevent.
“Elayne, this sword is ready for ye. Ye will have plenty of work late tonight. The laird has ordered many new swords.”
“Aye, Father. I ken. I have heard the villagers gossiping, and there are concerns over the escalating border dispute between our clans.”
“Men are foolish in their wars.”
“Aye. To fashion more arrows, I will make more spearheads tonight.”
Elayne had learned over time to create tools and weapons as an apprentice to her father. By now, she made anything he could. Although it took her longer and more blows against the anvil as a woman; the lass did not have the bulging muscles or broad shoulders her father did.
The laird and men had accepted her as the blacksmith’s apprentice, but they expected Elayne to work under his supervision. Little did they know, nor would they be likely to learn, that she worked alone late at night, while her father slept.
Elayne labored as any man, but she did not expect praise. Behind closed doors, when they were alone, her father praised her accomplishments, determination to master her craft, and the artistry of her work. Although Elayne worked diligently because she wanted to, it became necessary as her father’s eyesight grew more impaired. Elayne dearly protected this secret. If it became known, the clan would hire another blacksmith and they may lose their home. Elayne loved to create designs for the swords anyway, so she was happy to do it.
Since her father needed to rely increasingly on his daughter for her work, he paid Mrs. Logan, a kind young widow, coins to cook dinner and wash their clothes. Mrs. Logan had taught Elayne how to cook, but since she devoted all her time to work, it left her no opportunity to prepare food. In addition, Elayne’s father chopped wood for their kitchen and the widow’s hearth to keep them warm in the winter. The laird’s men kept the forge stocked all year round.
The tempo of the work varied according to the seasons and the border wars. Winter was not typically as busy as spring and summer, when their workload surged due to increased activity and clan needs.
Cooped up at the forge and often overlooked, Elayne grew up in the castle’s shadow since the men sought her father’s counsel. She escaped their notice until she became a young woman and grew into a graceful beauty. The men had a difficult time paying her attention under her father’s wary and watchful eyes.
Absorbed in the volume of their demanding work, Elayne seldom had free time. She knew her father worried about her future as he got older, but her skills were too valuable to ignore. If he could nae support and care for her, she could support herself, but it was a lonely life.
In the spring, Elayne heard young people talking, carefree as they walked by the forge. Consumed by work, her life was hard, but she felt grateful for it and her father’s love and care; Elayne remembered a time in her distant past when she had been hungry and cold. Still, she couldn’t help but yearn for things that other young women wanted.
On the rare occasions when she visited the market, she overheard young women gossiping about a particularly handsome warrior. Inadvertently, she observed them flirtingand competing for men’s favors. Elayne did not invite anyone’s attention.
Because of her demanding apprenticeship with her father through the years, Elayne did not have any friends. Except for her father and Mrs. Logan, she had no one to confide in. She wished for girlish friendships as she observed the girls walking together, laughing and whispering to themselves. What she yearned for most was a friend who cared about her and with whom she could share her dearest dreams.
