An Irish Flower (Medieval Romance/Adventure Story)

Chapter 4: Arrival

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Chapter 4

At that moment Maeve was trying to stay awake as dawn broke. They had been riding hard all night and the adrenaline was starting to wear off, giving way to exhaustion. She felt their pace start to slow down and raised her head to see what was happening. Her mouth was dry from the rag. Her captors stepped down and fell practically fell off the horse into the leader's arms. They half carried her to the shore, where she was vaguely aware of a boat large enough to hold about 5 people. They laid her in the back end and covered her with a blanket; their aire had been clear that she should be well treated. They took the cloth from her mouth and cut her bonds, as the boat offered little opportunity for escape.

She awoke several hours later as the midday sun beat down on her face. Squinting, she covered her eyes with her hands and wondered where she was. Then she gasped as she saw the men; she remembered that she had been kidnapped. The men saw her reaction and laughed, a low and guttural sound that sent chills down to her very core. Pulling the blanket up higher around her neck, exposed due to the low neckline that her mother had insisted on, she felt a little safer. The men turned from her and continued their conversation. Eventually they pulled some dried bread and cheese from a bag, tossing her some. Normally she wouldn't even consider eating such unsavoury food, but she was very hungry and knew that she should keep up her strength for whatever law ahead.

By now her family would be looking for her, and they would have started suspecting Camlin as her kidnapper. But there was nothing they could do; Camlin had a small army of men and his fortress was second to none. The lands of Calraige were not very far from Fir Domnan, but Calmin's main fortress was at the farther end of his lands; a massive stone fortress sitting atop a large cliff overlooking the crashing waves below. It was a week's journey on foot, a few days on horseback, but only a day by sea. A single road wound through the rocky hills surrounding Camlin's fortress with guards on every outcropping, making it impossible to breach their defences. Anyone foolish enough to enter uninvited would simply be drowned with arrows the moment he stepped through.

They finally got out of the boat and walked along the shore towards the infamous castle. They reached the gate after her captors gave a password to the men guarding the road leading to the fortress. They had not replaced her bonds; they were not needed now. She looked up in terrified awe at the massive building she had only heard stories about. Her own cashed back in Fir Domnan was comprised of a sturdy stone building surrounded by the servant's buildings and encircled by a strong stone wall and deep ditch. But this... she remembered stories her father had told her of this place, how Camlin had built his fortress upon the ruins of an ancient Roman fortress, making it impenetrable.

So this was to be her prison.

Their arrival must have been announced before they reached the gate because there was a slew of servants waiting for them. As soon as she stepped off the horse, three armed guards and half a dozen servants escorted her to a lavish bedroom. The guards stepped outside the door, but not before she was warned that any attempt to escape or harm the servants would be severely punished.

The servants removed her now dirty dress and undergarments and proceeded to bath her. Maeve was uncomfortable with this, she always bathed and dressed herself at home; but she dared not resist. They undid what was left of her elegant hairstyle and combed the tangles out.

By the time they were done with her she hardly recognized herself. The torn dress was gone, replaced by a cream coloured gown that hugged her petite frame in all the low places. Like her other dress, it scooped low in the front and had ribbons decorating it. Her hair was left down and free; she was surprised and lifted a hand to touch it. One of the maids explained that Camlin preferred long hair; her hand stopped. What did he plan to do with her?

A knock sounded on the door. A deep voice commanded that she accompany them to the main hall. Trembling slightly, she managed to hold her head high and walk straight and tall. She determined that she would respectfully ask to be returned home, promising to give another explanation for her absence so her father would not retaliate. As she entered the hall, all her words disappeared. The hall was twice the size of their own great hall, and the carved stone walls looked like they dated back to the times of the Romans. Beautiful tapestries adorned the walls and long wooden tables sat in the center of the room. At the far end of the hall sat an intricately carved wooden throne, and on it sat Camlin himself.

He was tall and very muscular, with shoulder length black hair and dark eyes. He had a long scar that went across his face; he looked like he had seen many battles. But what really caught her attention was the man beside him. He was similar in appearance; strongly built with short black hair and brown eyes; but he didn't have the cruel sneer on his face. There was something about him...

Camlin stood and gave her a half bow. “Welcome to my humble abode, my lady. I hope you had a pleasant trip.”

She stiffened. “My trip was not of my own choosing, my lord; I don't see how it could have been anything other than utterly distasteful.” She half expected him to strike her, his temper was legendary; but he only laughed. “My lady, you are here whether you like it or not, but I have not brought you here to hurt you. As long as you are respectful and behave, you will not be harmed. I merely have a proposition for you.”

She inwardly shuddered, but put on a brave face. “And what sort of proposition requires a kidnapping, my lord?” She knew she was pushing it, but her anger at her treatment was barely contained.

Camlin stepped off his pedestal and walked slowly around her, looking at every inch of her. She felt herself flush in embarrassment at his obvious scrutiny, but she remained steadfast. His gaze lingered on her low neckline before he finally stepped back and motioned to the man who had sat beside him. “My son Weylin is ready to be married, and I wish to expand my lands. Since your father has no sons and you are his firstborn, you will inherit Fir Domnan. A marriage to you will ensure that I will one day have control of your father's lands.”

Maeve stared at him, open mouthed. She had expected to be held for ransom; not to be forced into a marriage that would steal her father's land! She glanced over at Weylin who had not moved from his seat. He did not look happy by his father's announcement; she wondered if he found her hideous. Her attention quickly snapped back to Camlin as he laughed at her surprised expression.

“The marriage will take place tomorrow, my lady. By the time word reaches your father, you will be my son's wife and forever tainted by our family's seed.”