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9

Kenna woke and stretched her limbs. She yawned and winced at the aching pains that continued to plague her body. The horror and shock of the previous day had diminished somewhat, although she was sure that the sorrow would remain for a long time. She felt guilty about how she had treated Cal. She had always been too harsh with him, making him bear the brunt of her anger towards her father, but when it mattered, he had given his life for hers.

Now she had to make sure it counted for something, although she wasn’t sure how.

She gazed across at Ruairi, who was still sleeping. Color rose to her cheeks as she thought about the way he had held her on the shore, hugging her tightly to help shield her against the terror. She couldn’t forget about the way his clothes clung to his skin either, hinting at the taut muscles underneath. Every part of his body was honed for strength. He was the complete opposite of the man she had been intended to marry, and this example of masculinity made something instinctive stir within her. She smiled in a bittersweet manner when she thought of how Cal would react to her spending the night in a barn with Ruairi, and yet there didn’t seem to be anything odd about it at all. They only had each other now, and they would need each other if they were going to survive to make it back to the Highlands.

Home seemed farther away than ever before. Kenna didn’t know how long it was going to take them to return, or how likely it was that they were going to make it in one piece. She realized that she had the chance to make a new life for herself, to turn away from her destiny and choose a future that she wanted, and yet she longed to return home and be the person that she was always meant to be. Deep down, she wanted to be married and raise a family, but she wanted to do it in such a way that she could prove to her father she was more than a commodity to be traded. She wanted to show that she was strong and capable.

It was unsettling to know that they would think of her as dead.

It wasn’t long before Ruairi stirred.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Aye, morning,” he replied, pushing himself up. He examined himself and shook his head at the grazes and scratches that peppered his body. He pulled up his top to look at his torso. Kenna averted her gaze, but took a surreptitious glance anyway, feeling heat rise along her flesh as she looked at something forbidden.

They went to see the priest for breakfast, and asked if he could send out some villagers to look for any of the crew that might have washed up to shore. The priest was happy to oblige, but after a few hours of searching, the villagers returned with no sign of anyone. Ruairi and Kenna exchanged a worried glance. Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to wait there for the chance that other survivors would find them, so it was with a heavy heart that they left the village behind. The priest gave them some cheese and bread, but unfortunately, they had no horses to spare, or coin. However, he pointed them in the direction of a bigger village where he said they might find more fortune.

Kenna and Ruairi thanked him before they made their way towards this village.

“Dae ye think people will be hospitable enough tae give us what we need?” Kenna asked.

“I doubt it, sae we’ll just hae tae take it.”

“Ye mean steal?” Kenna gasped, adjusting her clothes to try and stop them from itching, but the rough fabric was uncomfortable no matter how she positioned it.

Ruairi spoke in a stern tone. “Kenna, we hae naething.”

“What about our names?”

Ruairi let out a grim chuckle. “Our names mean nothing out here. Dae ye think people in a French village care that I’m a Calbraith and ye are a Baird?” He shook his head. “We are in desperate times, and that means we’re gaeing tae hae tae dae things like steal. Our survival depends on it. We need more clothes and horses. If people are nae willing tae let us work for them, then we’ll hae tae find a way tae get some ourselves.” He thought on the matter for a few moments. “Is there anything ye can dae that could distract people?”

Kenna still wasn’t entirely sure this was something they should do, but given that Ruairi had braved the seas for ten years, she was inclined to follow his lead. “I can sing,” she said.

“That’s perfect. Ye will sing and draw a crowd, and while ye are daeing that, I’ll get a couple of horses and then meet ye outside town. We’ll hurry away. Dinnae worry, horses are gaeing tae be easier tae come by for them than they are for us.”

Kenna nodded and gazed at him, wondering what else he had done over the years in order to survive. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.

“Once we’re in the north of France, I should be able tae get us passage home. People will know of me there,” Ruairi said.

“Aye, they might know me as well. Da mostly did business with the Spanish, but he had interests all over the place, and he always boasted that his name is well known on the continent.”

“See, things are looking better already!” Ruairi grinned. “All we hae tae dae is get tae the north of France.” The way he spoke made it seem so simple, but Kenna knew it wouldn’t be. She wished that she had Cal with her because she knew that he wouldn’t have let anything happen to her. She would have even taken her father. He would have found a way to make some deal for safe passage. But all in all, she couldn’t say that Ruairi was the worst person to travel with. He was strong, and he had already rescued her once.

It was a long walk to the village, and they both cursed the priest, as he had made it seem as though it was but a short way. They stopped by a river to slake their thirst and rest their feet.

“Dinnae take this the wrong way, Ruairi, but ye are bearing yer sorrow well,” Kenna said.

Ruairi cupped his hands to take a drink from the river, but at this, he stopped. The tone of his voice was grave when he replied, “There is a time for mourning, and this is nae it. I cannae let myself give in tae sorrow because it will harm our chances of survival. There will be time for all that later.”

“I wish I haed yer control over my emotions,” she said.

“I hae a lot of practice,” he said, but did not elaborate further. Once again, she found herself wondering what had driven this man to leave his family, to leave all his prospects and titles behind to live at sea.

He rose up and insisted they continue before it grew too late.

It was the middle of the afternoon when they reached the village. Kenna breathed a sigh of relief to see other people and signs of civilization. Her stomach growled at the smell of pies and other cooked meats. Ruairi pointed to the middle of the village and then disappeared into the shadows. They had already arranged to meet at a certain place outside the village in the hope that they could disappear before anyone realized what had happened. Kenna nodded and wondered how she was going to begin. People glanced at her, but didn’t pay her much attention. Ruairi urged her silently to sing. Kenna cringed with embarrassment, but she remembered what Ruairi had said about doing desperate things in the name of survival. She opened her mouth, and what poured forth was a beautiful melody of a childhood song. Kenna’s voice was rich and mellifluous, and it quickly gained the attention of the villagers.

They looked at her with great interest and listened to this song that they had never heard before. The more Kenna sang, the more her confidence grew, and she plucked other songs from the back of her mind. Children ran up to her and danced, and people began to throw coins. Kenna skipped daintily and welcomed others to come and sing with her. By the time she finished, her mouth ached from smiling so much, and she was plagued by guilt that she was deceiving them. But they all seemed happy, and they applauded her as she curtsied and skipped away. The children waved while some of the men blew her kisses. She thought it a shame that she couldn’t stay, as she could imagine herself making friends there.

Kenna was humming to herself as she reached Ruairi, who peeked out behind a tree. He had two horses with him, and a change of clothes.

“Where hae ye been? I thought ye were never coming!” he said in a harsh whisper, gazing over her shoulder in fear that someone would come and find them.

“I suppose I lost track of time. They were enjoying my performance. Look!” Kenna’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she presented the handful of coins to him. Ruairi grinned.

“Looks like ye are a natural at living in the wild. That’ll be enough tae fill our bellies when we reach the next village,” he said as he helped her on her horse. His hands slipped around her waist as she climbed onto the horse. Somehow it didn’t feel odd for him to touch her like this. Even though it was just an innocuous gesture, there was still something intimate about it, and she found herself blushing as they rode away. She glanced behind her in case anyone was pursuing her, but the path was clear, and nobody raised any cries against bandits or thieves. It felt good to ride again as the world blurred past. They were now making good progress, and hope began to flicker in her heart that they would be home sooner than she imagined.

Still, as much as she was looking forward to that day, there was a tinge of remorse in her heart as well, for she knew that once she was at home, she would have to part from Ruairi. She would be given to a husband and resume the natural course of her life, while he…he…what would he do? He had no ship any longer. Could there be a chance that he remained in the Highlands? He might not have been Spanish, but the Calbraith clan was an honorable one. She stopped herself from getting too carried away. It would do her no good to have dreams of marriage when Ruairi had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Highlands. He was a strict man and wanted to live in a certain way, and she knew him well enough to understand that there was no shaking him from that belief.

It was a shame, because there were moments when she started to believe that he could be the perfect husband.