“I suppose ye will be leaving now?” she asked. Sadness crept inside her heart at having to say goodbye. There was so much more she wanted to learn about him. They had shared an experience few others survived. Their acquaintance was short, but their bond was strong.
“Aye.”
“I shall never forget ye and yer kindness,” Lara said as she stepped up on the tips of her toes and softly planted a kiss to his rough cheek. “God speed,” she whispered in his ear before lowering her feet back to the ground.
Bram turned to mount his horse. Lara wanted to ask him to stay, to at least rest for a night, but she did not.
Just as he mounted the horse, a woman called out to them from a distance. Hiking up her dress, she ran towards them at a full sprint. As the woman came closer, her features became more distinct. She was an older woman, dressed in a plain brown dress covered by a white linen apron tied around her plump waist. Her grey hair was tightly braided except for a few loose tendrils that flew in the wind. As she drew closer, Lara recognized the old woman. It was Moira, her clan’s head cook.
Breathlessly, Moira cried out, “My lady, my lady!”
Lara veered to face her and greet the old woman.
“Moira, what is it?” Lara asked.
With no response, Moira swung her arms around Lara. Lara squeezed her equally as tight. Stepping out of her embrace, Lara looked into the old woman’s eyes. She had aged since Lara had last seen her. Deep wrinkles creased across her forehead and her eye lids sagged as if she had not slept in a month.
“Oh be gone wit ye, ye auld brute,” Moira snapped at the guard, as if he was intruding on a private conversation. “Oh, my lady. Tis good to see ye. Ach, dinna they feed her at that castle? Ye are skin and bones!”
“Tis a long and dreadful story, Moira. But I must ask. Do ye ken when my father is expected to return?”
“I dinna ken.” Lara’s look of despair caused Moira to frown. “I’m sorry lass, but in order to see him, I’m afraid ye would have to travel to Norway; a ridiculous notion. Nay, ye will stay right here and wait fer him to return. I’ll no’ have ye traveling that far by yerself to find him.” Moira said with a comforting pat.
“But Moira, I must go. I must speak to him. Why has he traveled so far?”
Moira eyed Bram suspiciously.
“Ye can trust him, Moira,” Lara reassured her.
“My lady, strange things have happened since ye left. If yer father kenned I ken anything of his plans he would have strung me up from the gallows.”
“Whatever ye ken Moira, I promise yer secret is safe wit’ me,” Lara promised.
Moira looked around, making sure no one could hear what she was about to reveal.
“I was cleaning up the stairs as I usually do. Yer father and John were in the library talking. I overhead ‘em. I dinna go eavesdropping deliberately, ye ken. They said that the King of Norway was dying; said that because he has nay any heirs that there is nay one to take the throne but his brother whom he had been feuding. Yer father plans to propose John as his vassal to take the throne.”
“Vassal?”
“Aye. They plan to claim John as his cousin. Oh, my lady, if the people of Norway ken they were tricked, the country would be in turmoil. The war between Norway and Denmark could then cause war with England and France and that be nay good fer any of us.”
Bram thought about Lara’s predicament and what this would mean for Scotland.
“I will take ye,” he offered
“What?” Lara turned and asked as if she had not heard him.
“I will take ye to Norway to see yer father. I have some distant relatives there on my Mam’s side.”
“Bram, we can nay go to Norway. Moira is right. ‘Tis an insane idea. Bergen is a royal castle. We cannae just walk into the gates and demand an audience.”
Bram smiled at her, “Aye lass, we can.”
Lara felt perplexed. She paced back and forth, her brow rising and falling. Bram and Moira both patiently waited until Lara stopped and looked from one to the other.
“King! John to be king! He has nay royal blood and he is no’ even Norwegian.”
“I dinna ken what I can say, my lady,” Moira replied.
“Then there is only one thing I can do. We will go to Norway and seek my father. Perhaps all will be revealed once I arrive.”
“God be wit ye both,” Moira said, holding onto Lara’s hand.
Bram knew that their route would take them further east, to the city of Aberdeen, the nearest port. From there, they would travel by boat across the sea and arrive in Norway a few days later.
“Lass, we have a long journey ahead of us. We should leave now, if ye truly wish to go,” Bram suggested.
Lara turned and hugged Moira one last time. Bram knew there were no easy roads to take north to Aberdeen, nor were they safe. They would be traveling through rough terrain and alongside steep hills, but his worst fear was crossing paths with the English.
Chapter 12
Dark clouds covered the sky. Though it was mid-day, the sky turned dark as night as a raging storm caused a heavy downpour. Bram offered Lara his plaid and tightly wrapped her in it. Even with the plaid, she was soaked to the bone.
As thunder and lightning struck, Lara buried her head deeper into Bram’s hold. As the air cooled, her teeth started to chatter. She felt Bram wrap his arm around her tighter, but instead of snuggling into him as she so desperately wanted, she sat upright, keeping a small space between them.
Lara wanted to ask Bram to stop in order for her to stretch out her legs and perhaps warm herself by a fire, but she remained silent. The chances of finding dry wood were slim. Everything was wet. The ground was soft and muddy, causing the horse to slow.
In the forefront of her mind was speculation about how her father would react when he learned everything that had befallen her. She wondered if he would take vengeance upon her husband, or send her back. Her whole life Lara had wondered why her father was so harsh towards her but so lenient with John. Perhaps he was upset that she was a girl, and not one of the many sons that he had wanted.
Her mother, Elsa, only gave birth to the two of them, and after that refused to lay with him again. He bedded other women and blamed Elsa for his acts of adultery. William was a hard man, even towards Elsa. It was only after her death that he expressed his love for her and built the wall around his heart. It was John he turned his attentions to, forcing him to study and train until he was stumbling with sleep deprivation.
Lara imagined that a great king would do no less, but the thought of her brother becoming a king was still something that she could not fathom. To her, he was still nothing more than her older brother; he was selfish, and oftentimes made fun of her. But a king? Someone who would rule over and go into great battles? The idea of her brother doing such things was unthinkable.
Lara and Bram rode north along the coast. As the rain continued to fall, Bram steered the horse into the trees along the mountainside, hoping it would lessen the rain falling on them. The wind changed, blowing rain that felt like needles were piercing his face. He prayed that the storm would stop soon and that they could find shelter before nightfall. They would certainly become ill, sleeping outside in wet clothing with no fire to warm them. He worried about Lara as she uncontrollably shook in his arms, her teeth vigorously chattering. Desperately, he searched for a dry place to take cover from the cold rain.
As they continued through the forest of young oaks and pines, Bram spotted a small opening along the rock face. He let out a long sigh of relief and thanked God for answering his prayers. The entrance to the cavern was so small that he almost missed it. It did not look deep, but would offer sufficient protection.