I tried not to look around, to keep my eyes downcast, cowering, maybe if I didn’t look up Mary wouldn’t notice I—
She bustled across the room, screeching, and I thought, this bitch is going to wake all the babies. If I had a fucking dirk I would stab her through, and if I were ever in court over it I would say, “In my defense, this was my life — nurse babies to sleep only to have this fucking bitch yell them awake.” I would not be sorry.
She yanked me up by the arm, dragged me to the far end of the room, and shoved me down on my knees again. If I tried to look at her she screamed at me, if I didn’t answer her she screamed. If I didn’t understand her she screamed. Then, my eyes clamped tight, trying to drown out her voice, she shoved down my skirt and yanked up my shift. I struggled, I struggled hard, but she called over the other nursemaid to hold my arms and I was exposed to the room and then I was hit hard across my lower back. Pain radiated from the blow. I glanced up to see a stick, about three feet long, about an inch wide, wielded in her tight fist, arcing down at me. It struck me again a little higher up. I shrieked. It hit me again across my buttocks as I tried to struggle out of their grasp, and again, this time across my upper back. I pressed my cheek to the wall and whimpered and begged the universe to help me, while blow after blow rained down.
I counted twelve but might have missed some. It seemed she would keep going but thankfully Duncan began to cry. Mary dragged me to the chair. I crawled up into it, trying to get my shift down and my skirt up. My back was ablaze in a pain that threatened to drag me under. She gathered the baby and thrust him into my arms. I cried more, tears streaming down my face, but instead of screaming at me over it she seemed exhausted by the effort.
She stomped away. She and the other woman talked loud and long about me, occasionally pointing in my direction, as if I was the irritating employee in the break room that everyone had to deal with.
Mary left the room. The other woman nursed the tiny baby. I glared at her. Fucking nursing a newborn after holding my arms while I was beaten? She didn’t deserve to have that newborn baby in her arms. I hated her. I hated all of them. I nursed Duncan and then I was ordered to my corner.
I sat without praying. Glaring at the room. Deciding all the ways I was going to burn this place down. After concocting my revenge, I tried to meditate, something I was never that good at before because it was too boring. Now I didn’t care about boring, I wanted to get my fucking brain off of my hunger. And my imminent death by bitch ass nurse or by running, screaming into the woods and dying in a snowbank.
I held a fold of skirt between my fingers and rubbed, thinking about the feel and the movement and trying not to think about never going home, trying not to think about anything at all.
Thirty-three - Magnus
I approached the guards again and this time told them I was Lord Magnus Campbell, there tae confer with Sir Colin of Glenorchy. I was told tae wait while a man left with m’message.
The wind was up and snow flurryin’. I was under scrutiny by the guard, for claimin’ tae be a lord without an army or even a squire. I attempted tae sound important. Glaring, I allowed my horses tae stomp and pace back and forth impatiently.
Finally, the messenger returned. I was told Sir Colin would see me in the morn. He sent a message: I should find lodgin’ in the village until then.
I demanded tae see Sir Colin right then but the soldiers closed in front of the gate and wouldna let me pass.
I returned tae the woods, twould be an even more dangerous night, now that the guards of the fortress kent I was here. I pitched the tent under the trees, a spot protected from the wind.
I wore the night-vision goggles for a time, lookin’ in all directions, callin’ tae Kaitlyn, but I kent twas useless, twas too cold. If she was outside