Colin raised his eyebrows appreciatively and again held firm as Makenna tried to pry his fingers free from her waist. Frustrated, she gave up and crossed her arms. She looked over at Laurel, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “I think we are here until they decide otherwise.”
Colin eased his grip, satisfied to see more and more of the hall’s crowd paying attention to their conversation. “I think of Olave often these days.”
“Though I have been at Lochlen but a fortnight, it is clear why,” Conor remarked critically.
This statement cut through even more of the crowd, leaving only a handful of people still pursuing personal conversations. Makenna waited for Colin to speak, but he said nothing. The majority of the room was waiting for Colin to respond, but he showed no intention of doing so.
Exasperated, Makenna waved her hand and asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Who is Olave? And what makes you think of him?”
Colin picked up the refilled quaich and twirled it so that the metal glinted from the firelight. “Olave is probably the greatest skilled fighter I have ever known, and as to why I think of him? You would have to know his story and why his loving and marrying Hazel is so extraordinary.”
Colin took a deep breath as if he were about to continue. Then he hesitated.
This time Laurel pushed him to resume the story. “Is it a secret?”
Colin shook his head. “Olave’s story is no secret. It is about a Highland soldier who meets a beautiful woman from the Lowlands.” Again, he paused and gazed thoughtfully at Makenna and then the crowd. “I warn you now the tale does not end well. It is a tale of intolerance and pride. Do you still wish to hear it?”
Makenna bit her bottom lip and looked at Colin. His expression dared her to say yes. She knew he had been waiting for this moment all evening. An interested audience listening to him tell this particular story.
“Indeed I do. How about you, Laurel? Do you know the story of Olave the Highlander?”
Laurel shook her head, coming to the same realization that Makenna had. “No, I do not, but I am exceedingly curious.”
A triumphant grin grew on Colin’s face. “Then I will tell you.”
Colin rose from the large hearth chair at the same time lifting Makenna in his arms. He placed her back on the soft cushions and moved to stand by the hearth’s mantel in a position seemingly casual but perfect to be clearly heard and understood by all in the room.
“As you just learned, Olave is a Highlander who lives in the northern lands adjacent to Conor’s. You might have assumed he was a McTiernay clansman, but in truth he has never claimed to be part of any clan except that of William Wallace,” Colin began.
“But Wallace had no clan,” a young boy interrupted, already completely captivated.
Makenna glanced at the quiet portion of the crowd recognizing that they, too, were seeing a new side to him. She had seen so many facets of Colin’s personality. Hard, stubborn, passionate, commanding, but tonight she was witnessing the man who was to be the father of their child.
Colin cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “True, but then again you’d have to understand Wallace when he first began to fight the English. I fought with him at Stirling and Falkirk, but Olave knew him from the beginning.
“Many years ago, when Wallace began his crusade to free Scotland, he banded together a group of men who supported his cause. Olave was one of William Wallace’s original rebels. It was he who helped Wallace launch his campaign against the English and free the towns of Aberdeen, Perth, and the lands north of the Forth.”
“So Olave was a hero?” asked an older boy who had moved closer to hear Colin speak.
“Olave, a hero? I don’t know, to some he might be, but he certainly wasn’t one when Wallace started his crusade. Wallace liked Olave’s height and strength and crazed approach to fighting the English, but his inexperience nearly got him killed. During one action, Olave became badly injured.”
“Did William Wallace save him?” came a question from an unknown face in the back of the crowd.
Colin shook his head. “No. He would have if he had known, but it was another of Wallace’s men, a Lowlander, who found him and nursed him back to health. As Olave grew stronger, he wanted to go out and fight. Quickly the Lowlander recognized Olave’s lack of skill with any type of weapon.”
One of the boys held his hand up in protest. “I thought you said he was the greatest swordsman you have ever met.”
“He is the greatest,” Colin affirmed.
“Better than you?” another lad asked.
“Aye, better than me, but he wasn’t back then. It was the Lowlander who taught Olave how to use the sword, battle-axe, and spear.”
Conor spoke up from across the room. “I would have liked to meet the Lowlander who trained Olave, for there is no one better with a spear.”
Laurel shifted in Conor’s lap and stared at him quizzically. “Why didn’t you?”
Conor’s answer was low and deep and full of reverence. “Because the man died at Loudoun Hill over ten years ago.”
Completely engrossed in the story, Makenna urged Colin to continue. “What happened next?”
“Now, as all of you know, Wallace’s battle at Loudoun Hill was one of his first major successes in driving the English from Scotland, but not all of Wallace’s band survived. Many died, including the Lowlander who had befriended Olave.”
“As was most of Wallace’s men, the Lowlander had been from Ayrshire. So when his friend died, Olave felt honor-bound to find his daughter and tell her what happened. He had planned to return quickly to Wallace and fight again, but the moment he met Lisbet, his plans changed.”
Makenna widened her eyes at the unexpected turn in the story. “She must have been remarkable to keep him away.”
Colin smiled. “Aye, she was. Olave described her as the bonniest of what Scotland had to offer with dark brown hair and golden eyes that could melt the hardest of men’s hearts.”
“I thought you said this tale ended sadly,” came a female voice from the back of the room. “Did Lisbet spurn him?”
“Unfortunately, no. Lisbet welcomed Olave’s attention, and soon they handfasted. They lived just south of the lands of Sorn, and Olave joined the small group of locals helping them build fortifications on the newly commissioned keep. All that summer and winter Olave and Lisbet were happy.”
“What happened?” This time the question came from Makenna. Like everyone else listening, she wanted to know the fate of Olave and Lisbet. Suddenly she thought of Deirdre. “Did she…”
Colin knew what she was going to ask and shook his head before she could finish. “Then in the spring, Lisbet’s family learned about the death of her father and arrived to assume control over his home and land. When they discovered Lisbet was handfasted to a Highlander, they made their displeasure known. Nothing he did or could do would please them.”
Suddenly the remaining activity in the room ceased. People laughing swallowed their mirth as Colin’s words lingered in the air. Though they had been pretending not to care about Colin’s tale, it became obvious they had been listening the entire time.
Colin prolonged his silence for several more seconds before continuing. “Despite all of the work Olave had done restoring her home, regardless of what he did for his neighbors on the Sorn keep, Lisbet’s family harassed him mercilessly. It was not long before they had the whole community acting hostile toward him.”
A group of older boys mature enough to begin training moved to the other side of the hearth to better hear the tale. Colin stopped and looked at them intently before asking, “What would you do?”
Their eyes popped open and Colin asked again, “What would you do? How would you react if someone continually attacked you for the color of your hair? Your height? Your size?”