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His Highland Shield-Maiden

Page 11

by Ava McArthur

6

They walked deeper into the forest, where the trees grew even thicker. The leaves created a canopy where emerald light shone upon them. Shadows lengthened, and Fiona’s hand never strayed too far from her sword, for she knew that a beast could leap out from anywhere. As yet, they were undisturbed.

They came to a tall tree. The branches were thick and gnarled. Fiona tilted her head back to look at its gigantic stature. She assumed it was a similar kind of awe to what the children must have felt when they looked up at Varrik, although, of course, the tree wasn’t about to pluck her from the ground and lift her to its peak.

“The berries are up there! Dae ye see that cluster?” Lotta said, pointing.

Varrik nodded, and then Lotta asked him for help in climbing the tree.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather I go up there myself?”

“I think it’s a job better done with the two of us. Fiona, ye stay down here in case any animal should come along. Ye are good at guarding things,” Lotta said.

Anything she said often sounded like a backhanded compliment.

Fiona had to stand there and watch as Lotta walked up to the tree. The first branch was beyond her reach, so Varrik had to help her up. A flare of envy rushed through Fiona’s body at the sight of Varrik lifting Lotta up, his hands all over her body. She frowned because she didn’t understand why she would have these feelings, but it was happening nonetheless.

Lotta clambered onto the first branch and then waited for Varrik to join her. He lifted the basket toward Lotta, who took it, and then he pulled himself up. His biceps swelled, and Fiona felt herself being captured by the attention. His shirt was lifted as well, giving her a glimpse of his flat stomach that had been honed over the years. He joined Lotta on the first branch, and their conversation became soft, receding from the reach of Fiona’s ears. The only thing she heard after this was tittering laughter from Lotta, who threw her head back and looked as though she was a spider luring Varrik into her web.

If he haes any sense of what is good for him, he will stay well away,Fiona thought, although she wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much. It wasn’t as though she was interested in Varrik anyway. She only wanted to make sure that he was actually capable of helping and defending the clan. But then she thought back to that moment when they had dueled, how the air had been hot and how he had matched every one of her movements. She had never met a man like him.

Lotta and Varrik gathered some berries, placing them in the basket. Once it was full, they climbed down. Lotta was being extra cautious and getting help from Varrik whenever she could. She nestled the basket in the crook of a branch and then climbed down herself, although when she reached the final branch, she pulled away and claimed that she couldn’t make the descent to the ground, for it was far too daunting. Instead, Varrik climbed down before her, she lowered the basket, and then she had to jump into his arms.

Fiona stood there watching with a tiresome look on her face, for she knew that Lotta could make the jump. She had seen Lotta do it many times over, but here Lotta was putting on a show for Varrik. To Lotta’s credit, she was good at it as well, and for a moment, Fiona could actually believe that she was in distress. Lotta closed her eyes and placed a hand across her forehead before she leaped down, a high-pitched cry bursting from her lungs as she fell into Varrik’s arms. He held her close and tight, just as he had held Fiona while they had been dueling. The envy intensified. Lotta settled herself, but she let her arms linger around Varrik’s neck. She looked up at him sweetly and gave him a warm smile.

“My hero,” she whispered, and then placed a hand on his chest.

The sight was far more intimate than it should have been, and Fiona found herself looking away, but still, she was annoyed that Lotta got to be as close to Varrik as she had been. Then Lotta tried to lift the basket, but she said it was far too heavy for her, and once again, Varrik had to come to her rescue by carrying it himself. This was just too much for Fiona, who turned on her heels and started walking back toward the village, checking to make sure that Lotta and Varrik were following close behind. Fiona bit her tongue and quelled the angry feelings inside her as she heard Lotta tittering away, wondering how any man could be so stupid as to fall prey to these little tricks and manipulations.

Varrik was an inscrutable man, though. It didn’t seem as though he was biting on Lotta’s bait, yet he wasn’t exactly resisting her advances either.

They returned to the edge of the forest, and by this point, Fiona couldn’t take much more of it.

“Varrik, would ye mind taking the berries back tae the kitchen? I need tae share a few words with Lotta. It’s a private matter,” she said.

Lotta glared at her, but before she could say anything, Varrik had already agreed and was walking away.

“What did ye dae that for?” Lotta asked in an anguished gasp.

Fiona rolled her eyes. “I should ask ye the same thing. Ye are making a fool of yerself, Lotta!”

Lotta huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s called flirting, Fiona, nae that ye would know anything about it.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes. “What ye are daeing is nae flirting. Ye are presenting yerself as weak. I’ve tried tae tell ye time and time again, Lotta, that ye cannae rely on anyone else tae protect ye. Ye need tae take matters intae yer own hands. Ye would be better served spending time with me and learning how tae wield a sword.”

“It’s nae my job tae use a sword. I’m a woman, Fiona. We’re meant tae be lovers, nae fighters. We’re the ones the men come home tae. What man is gaeing tae want tae come home tae ye? Ye dinnae know how tae keep a bed warm, or how tae make the place smell nice. Ye hae made yerself intae a warrior, but men dinnae want women who can fight.”

“I dinnae hae tae define myself by what other people think,” Fiona said in a terse tone.

Lotta freed her arms and gesticulated wildly, raising her voice now that Varrik was well out of earshot. “Nay, but the way ye live yer life takes its toll on the rest of us,” Lotta said. “I cannae hae what I want until ye decide that ye want tae actually get married. Ye are holding me back, Fiona.”

“That’s nae my fault. I hae tried talking tae Da about it, but he is adamant that I should be married first.”

“Then get married! I am ready tae be a wife. I am ready tae hae children,” Lotta said.

“I’m nae,” Fiona replied. “And I’m nae gaeing tae get married just sae that ye can hae permission.”

Lotta shook her head and threw up her hands, pacing around helplessly. “Ye are impossible, Fiona. Ye cannae condemn me just because I dinnae want tae fight like ye. At some point, ye are gaeing tae hae to realize that ye need tae get married, and it’s unfair that ye put off the inevitable tae spite me. I hae already lost sae much. Cannae I hae anything?” Lotta said.

For a moment, Fiona felt genuine sympathy for her sister. As much as they got on each other’s nerves, she couldn’t forget that Lotta had lost her own family. But that didn’t mean Fiona was just going against her own nature and forcing herself into a marriage that she didn’t particularly want.

“Ye hae a lot, Lotta, but somehow it’s never enough for ye. Look at that display taeday, for example. Ye made a fool of yerself throwing yerself at Varrik. What did ye think was gaeing tae happen?”

Lotta’s hands fell back to her sides, and she turned slowly. “Dae I detect a hint of jealousy in yer voice, Fiona?” she asked, wearing a smirk that annoyed Fiona immensely.

Fiona held herself rigidly and shook her head. “Of course nae. I’m concerned about ye.”

“I think ye could learn something from our new Viking friends. Why dinnae ye just make things easier on the both of us and take Varrik as yer husband? Frankly, any Viking would dae me as long as I hae the chance tae marry them.”

“I’m nae marrying a Viking!” Fiona said incredulously. “Especially nae one who lived with Rune Dolph.”

“That’s all in the past,” Lotta said dismissively, waving her hands through the air. “He’s in the Callan clan now, along with the rest of them. It’s gaeing tae be easier tae fight other Vikings than them. The sooner ye realize that, the better it’s gaeing tae be for both of us. Please, Fiona, just think about marriage. It’s all I want in the world, and I cannae move forward with my life until ye move forward tae.”

Lotta walked away from Fiona, leaving the elder girl alone in the forest. Fiona let her hand drop to her sword and wondered if she had spent too much of her life training to be a fighter. She was lean and wiry, taller than most other women she knew. Was she the kind of woman that a man would take for a wife? Fear wasn’t the kind of thing that came easily to Fiona, but it was definitely present when it came to the idea of romance. She had almost hoped that when she chose the life of a warrior, she would have been freed of the expectations placed upon her from birth, but there was no such luck. She was a woman, and she would have to be married to someone. She was determined to put it off for as long as she could, and she also wanted to make sure that she married a man who would be able to be her equal, but did Lotta have a point when she suggested Fiona was being stubborn in putting off something that was going to happen whether she liked it or not?

This would have all been easier if her father hadn’t welcomed those bloody Vikings into the village.