Bold (The Handfasting) - By Becca St. John Page 0,23
trembled as warrior after warrior moved forward, crossed their right arm over their chest, right hand to left shoulder and bowed low to Maggie. Legs wobbly, Talorc had to help her stand.
She nodded to each man who offered obeisance to her, stunned by the clamor of the hall.
"Maggie, Maggie, Maggie . . ." They chanted.
She could take no more, held her hand out for them to stop. “Please,” she asked them and immediately they silenced their appreciation. “I would like to hear what this is all about.”
She stood firm lest they feel they’d frightened her, though frighten they did. And it was the Bold's fault. She was certain of that, because never before, no matter how many battles the MacBedes had fought, had personal honor come to her. It was a heavy weight she never asked for.
The men took to their seats again, stilled as the Bold had not been able to still them. Once again, Talorc sat her, a hand to her shoulder, before nodding to her parents, and again facing the tables of warriors before them.
“It is no secret that these past years have brought great sadness to the Highlands. Sassenaches have been trying to send their fancy Lords and knights to rule our land, our people. Men from the North, the powerful mighty Norsemen, have not ebbed in their pursuit of what is ours. Are the Gunns not more Norsemen than Scot?”
Belches and curses fouled the air just as the idea fouled their thoughts.
“Brave and glorious the Clan MacKay and all our septs, including the MacBedes, have faced great losses and grand great warriors. Our babes have cried with hunger ‘til our souls were torn apart. We’ve faced the mockery of the Sassenach who see glory only in the silver they eat with and the fancy cloth they wear.
They laugh at the way we live, as comfortable upon a bed of snow as a mattress filled with down.
“These English are men with no hearts, men who have no care for what we are, who we are and the land we breathe for. And yet they threaten to rule us.
“And so, with these sorrows and woes upon our hearts we battled the Gunns over disputes that were not of our making. We did this in search of food for our bairnes, to keep them safe and fed through the winter months.
"And we did this to avenge the deaths of the likes of the MacBedes’ Ian."
Maggie shifted with the unpleasant reminder that she had loudly resented Talorc's call to arms.
“The MacKays, the MacBedes, the MacVies, the Baynes and the Reays we all stood strong, charging into battle, our cries heralding the boast of victory.
“But victory did not come.”
Shoulders rounded against the burden of losses.
“Again,” Talorc continued, as mournful as the drone of a bagpipe, “grand men were lost, taken from us, dying honorable deaths but dying the same.”
The hall had grown so quiet Maggie heard the rustling of a mouse within the reeds, the spark of a fire-pit none too close. She looked to the men, their faces grim and sorrowful. Aye, it was a fact, the death of those they lost meant greater burden on those who survived.
She looked up at the MacKay, to see where his tale would go, only to find him studying her, a wistful smile upon his lips so contrary to the sorrowful faces of his men. She was glad to see he had the sense to wipe it from his mouth before facing the crowd.
“As was my way, after the second day of fighting, the second day of terrible loss, I walked through the shadows of the camp, looked to the men, fought for words to carry them past the grief.
"The MacBede men drew me. They were no different than the others, sitting before their fires. As brave as they are, worrying sorrow comes with a battle lost, that mayhap we would lose again. There had been too many defeats in too many years to bolster our spirits.
“That was when I learned of Maggie MacBede."
The use of her name didn't touch her at first. She was listening to a story that had naught to do with her. But then, as he stood in silence, his words ran back through her mind to suck the breath right out of her. He nodded, as though he knew, had waited, just for that reaction, before he continued.
“As I watched, as I fought for a way, any way, to encourage each and every man, as I felt