The following months into November she had been forced to accompany Thorgren on every raid, and he had displayed her like a trophy alongside him at the prow of his ship.
She had watched villages burn, her fellow Scotsmen murdered, and weeping young women taken captive to suffer ravishment until they were thrown overboard before the next raid, to either swim to shore…or drown. A horrible nightmare from which Tira saw no hope of awakening until that November day when she had come so close…so close…
“If only I could have thrown myself from the ship like Rowen—ah, God, help me!” A sob broke from Tira’s throat that made Brinda gasp and whirl around from the hearth.
“What, lass? Is it the bairn coming?”
The dark-haired woman didn’t wait for Tira’s answer, which was another choked sob, but rushed over to press her hand upon Tira’s stomach.
“Have the pains started?”
“N-no, I am sad, is all?—”
“Sad? You who are the most fortunate of women tae carry Laird Sigurdson’s bairn within you? Dinna you know what that means if you give him a healthy son? He will marry you, lass! You will be wife tae Orkney’s most renowned raider and held in esteem among all of us, a lowly captive no longer. He’s never sired a son, only daughters?—”
“Then I hope it’s a girl for I will never marry Thorgren.Never! Or mayhap I will die in childbirth and deny him myself and the bairn?—”
“Enough!”
Brinda grabbed Tira by the shoulder to shake her so roughly that she nearly toppled from the cot, and now she did feel a stab of pain that made her gasp.
“Ah, now, you see? The wee babe heard your curse and demands tae be born at once!”
Tira shook her head wildly, but before she could utter another word, Brinda had pulled her to her feet and demanded that she walk around the cottage.
“W-walk?”
“Aye, tae see if it’s truly your time or you have a while tae wait yet—nowmove.”
Trembling, Tira did as she was bade, Brinda following behind her and prodding with a finger poked into Tira’s back.
As she made several circles around the cottage, the pain subsided and felt more uncomfortable than anything as sharp as the first, which helped to quell the fear that had gripped her about the prospect of giving birth. A few moments more, Brinda still urging her on, Tira felt no pain at all and heaved a sigh of relief.
“Ah, you see? The bairn isna ready even though he must know his own mother doesna want him. Shame, lass,shame.”
Tira felt her face redden at the harsh rebuke, but all she wanted to do now was lie back down on the cot and turn her face to the wall.
In spite of Brinda’s words, she didn’t feel shame at all, only a gnawing emptiness as she felt herself sinking further into despair.
In spite of the woman’s insistence upon speaking about the bairn as if a boy, Tira began to pray fervently to herself that she carried a daughter.
She didn’t want to marry Thorgren! The very thought making her feel like she might retch as she sank onto the cot, Brinda covering her with a blanket before Tira could do so herself.
“Aye, sleep, lass. You’ll need your strength for the true pains when they come—and they will, I promise you, sooner than later from the size of your belly. Och, I would swear you carry two babes in you! Wouldna that be a fine surprise for LairdSigurdson when he returns tae Hoy, and finds two squalling sons waiting for him?”
Tira didn’t answer, but squeezed her eyes shut as tears blistered the inside of her eyelids, her silent prayer growing more desperate.
God help her, was there no relief from this worsening nightmare?
“The storm grows worse,Laird MacLachlan! Mayhap we should shelter along the coastline until?—”
“Och, Brody, are you losing your nerve?” Gavin roared to his wiry helmsman as Errol looked on, icy rain lashing his face and stinging his eyes.
He stood next to Gavin in the stern of the thirty-six-oared birlinn that dipped sharply and then ascended in the rolling waves like a wild thing, his feet braced wide to keep his balance as Gavin had instructed him.
No matter his heavy cloak, he was soaked to the skin, but he didn’t want to join other men taking cover under the canvas drawn over the middle section of the ship, precious hours passing by.
Already they had been at sea for three days, which left only seven more to attempt to find Tira and then return to Dumbarton.Seven more! The journey to reach the Orkney Islands had taken longer than Errol had anticipated due to rough seas, but Gavin hadn’t seemed daunted at all by the foul weather.
