“No, they did not,” Emilia replied.
Just then, someone else appeared. Little Mara McKay from the croft where he and Emilia had slept crept up to her and put her little hand in Emilia’s bigger one. She was pale as a ghost, and all her freckles were standing out starkly on her round cheeks. Tears were running from her eyes all the way down her face to drip from her chin onto the floor. Emilia wiped them away, but they came back as soon as she had finished. Adam picked the little girl up and she snuggled into the warmth of his chest and sighed with satisfaction.
“What is wrong?” Adam asked, addressing Emilia. “Was Mara’s family involved in all this?”
Emilia could not hold her tears. “I was there when they died. I had come to give them some food. They were all at their midday meal when some horsemen came and set fire to their barn. Hamish went out to try and stop them but one of them killed him with his sword then rode over him. I tried to stop Ina from going out. I stood in front of the door but she shoved me aside. Wee Hamish grabbed her but she slipped out of his grasp and ran to her husband’s body. The boys all went out to drag her back, but every one of them succumbed to a sword thrust. I was only able to stop Mara but I turned her head away so that she could not see. It was horrible!” Then she burst into tears. Adam sat up in bed and bent over to kiss her soft, wet lips, tasting the salt of her tears. A few weeks ago all he had wanted to do was possess her, but now he wanted to be her shelter from the storm and her shield from all danger.
Adam’s anger boiled up till it was like a volcano about to explode. These two young and vulnerable people’s lives had both been broken in different ways by the same man. He had no doubt that Robert McElwee was behind it all. He was, as Father Gordon himself had said, Satan in human form. Adam felt incandescent with rage, especially when he looked down into little orphaned Mara’s blue eyes.
“I swear to you that you will be safe, little one,” he whispered, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. As before, she pulled his head down and kissed him back, smiling.
Emilia gasped. “That is the first time I have seen her smiling since we got home!” she cried in disbelief.
Adam pushed the little girl’s head against his shoulder and said quietly, “Go to sleep, little one.” Then he began to sing her a lullaby that he had been sung as a child.
“Close your eyes, my weary one,
Angels are around you.
Dream your dreams o baby mine,
All my love surrounds you.
I will keep you safe and sound until the morning’s here,
Rest my child, be still my baby,
Nothing may you fear.”
A moment later Mara was asleep, her head on Adam’s chest.
“Thank you, Adam.”
“God is sending her sleep,” Adam replied. “Emilia, my love, I want to pray aloud. Can you leave the room for just a moment?
“Of course,” she replied. She bent over and gently took Mara away.
“Can you get Father Gordon too, if he can be spared from tending the wounded?” he pleaded.
Emilia nodded and left.
Adam felt the rage boiling up in him again, and to vent his frustration he roared to the heavens, shaking his fists at the rafters.
“Lord, you sent me to these good folk, and they are now my people too,” he began. “I think you sent me here for a purpose and I fully intend to do Your holy will. Inverinch needs my service, even if I must give my life. I will do all in my power to help them, until my last breath. I swear this oath in the name of the Holy Trinity. Amen.” Then he crossed himself and stood up. His head was still thumping with pain but he was strong enough to endure and ignore it now. Any other day his wound would have kept him in bed. But not today.
He felt almost immortal.
Fortunately, most of the villagers’ injuries were slight, and mostly caused by falls and flying stones. Father Gordon was winding a bandage onto the arm of a young boy when Emilia came up to him, her face anxious, and her voice sounding even more so.
“Father,” she began, tapping his shoulder.
The priest turned a grim and weary face towards her. “Yes, Emilia?” he asked, wiping his forehead.
“Adam asked if he can see you for a little while.” She gazed at him pleadingly. “Only if you can be spared of course.”
Father Gordon gave an impatient grunt, but finished his task and gave the boy over to the care of one of the Sisters of Mary Immaculate, who were helping him. They both mounted their horses, spurred them into a gallop, and in minutes they were at Emilia’s house. Father Gordon strode inside quickly. He had plenty to say to Adam.
Adam was outwardly composed, but inwardly quaking. He knew what was coming. The town had been badly damaged, and even though Adam had not been there, he would still be forced to shoulder the blame.
