Epilogue
Derek was praying in the chapel when they came in. He was on his knees, head bowed before the altar. Whispering quietly, he had just glanced up at the cross, thanking the Lord for this second chance at life. Then the door opened and the strangers began talking.
He was back at the chapel where his whole life had changed. The abbot had come to him a week earlier and told him to make the pilgrimage back to MacIntyre castle.
He didn't want to go back. In the year since he'd been sworn in as a novice he'd grown used to the monastic life. It had a simplicity and purity to it that he respected. He heard little about life back at the castle. When news reached the abbey of the birth of Andrew and Beth's child, he rejoiced silently, praising God for His mercy and His wisdom. During his sleep he was plagued by dreams of what he'd done in the past, glad when they rose for matins each night. He would walk with the others into the small wooden abbey church, unable to shake the guilt until the singing began. Only then could he rejoice in this second chance he'd been given to prove his repentance and to pray for all those he'd hurt in the past.
He never expected to leave the abbey again but he could no more disobey the order of the abbot than he could float over the mountains on the wing of a cloud.
“It has been a year since you arrived here," the abbot said. “In that time two dozen have joined your ranks and yet you remain the most pious of all.”
He nodded in response, saying nothing out loud.
“I want you to travel to the chapel where God blessed Andrew and Beth. Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “No, brother.”
“You will know when you arrive.”
It had rained for the entire duration of his journey. He had worn only the habit and it was soaked through, rubbing harshly on his skin as he slogged along mile after mile. His feet were bare, bleeding in places from the sharp stones he had encountered on the road. As time passed, he limped more and more, his hunger growing, gnawing at his insides.
He was glad of the pain, glad of the hunger, glad of the appalling weather. All those things tried his body but brought his soul closer to God, showing the Lord that he truly repented of his sins and could take any punishment that might be meted out.
For a month before he set out on his pilgrimage, his body had been troubled by a great ague. He had been in agony for days, his skin stretched thin, his insides churning and knotting over and over. To be taken to the latrine, the brothers had to carry him on a sheet, his limbs rigid and unmoving.
He was still recovering when he set off, his limbs too weak to travel more than five miles a day. It took nearly a week to reach the castle and by the time he made it, he was almost dead on his feet.
They had been given notice of his arrival. He was admitted and Rory met him in the courtyard, bringing him into the chapel where Andrew and Beth were waiting, a baby laid asleep on the altar behind them.
“My laird,” he said, prostrating himself on the cold tiles before him. “My lady,” he added without looking up. “Forgive me, I beg you.” Tears ran from his eyes, dripping onto the floor as he remained in place, refusing to stand, unable to shake the crushing guilt that threatened to consume him. That child was alive because he had failed. If he had succeeded in what he'd attempted to do, they would not be there, they would be in heaven, assured of their place by the Lord's side. Where would he be when his end came? The thought was terrifying. “Forgive me,” he said again. “I am truly sorry for my crimes.”
“Stand,” Andrew said, holding an arm out toward him.
Derek took the offered hand, getting slowly to his feet, refusing to look the laird in the eye.
“How are you both?" he managed to ask, his toes curling under him.
“We are well and our bairn is well,” Andrew said, stroking the forehead of the little one. “Our union was blessed.”
““I prayed for you both.”
“Thank you. And if I might ask of my father.”
“The clans remain united and though he can be...difficult, he has an advisor who has made a difference to our parley.”
Derek wondered who the advisor might be but thought better of asking. “He is well then.”
“Aye, and our borders are strengthened. Gillis is over there now planning for his wedding and for possible English invasion.”
“I will pray for him also.”
Beth nodded. “Thank you." She paused, examining him closely. “We asked the abbot to send you here.”
“If it is to punish me, so be it.”
“We wish you to bless our child," Andrew replied. “Will you do as we bid?”
“Of course," Derek said, almost falling as he staggered forward. He leaned on the altar, looking down at the wee bairn wrapped in the purest white linen. “What name have you given your heir?”
