John held his sword arm out to Mariote. "Mariote, come here." Mariote scurried away from the tree and stood behind John, holding on to his plaid with trembling hands. "Gather their swords," John said over his shoulder. To the men, he said, "On yer bellies."

Harry and George fell to the ground as John had directed without question or argument. Mariote and Orabilis gathered the swords and held them against their chests. John had already spotted the men's horses when he had first come upon them.

"Mariote, Orabilis, go hide the swords in the forest, but be quick about it," John whispered to them as he began to walk backward. Mariote grabbed the sword Orabilis had been holding and together, they raced into the forest.

Raising his voice, John spoke to the men. "Ye count to one thousand before ye move, or I'll rescind me earlier promise to let ye live."

"I canna count that high," Harry said. George growled something unintelligible at him.

John looked heavenward, wondering how such ignorant men were not only allowed to grace G.o.d's earth, but how they came to have any position of power. "Then count as high as ye can and repeat it one hundred times."

Keeping a watchful eye on the men, John made his way to their horses. He slapped both mounts on their rears which sent them running for the hills. "If I ever catch either of ye near any of me daughters again, I shall no' be as kind as I was this day."

John headed into the forest to find his daughters.

They left the forest as quickly as their feet would carry them. John would not rest easy until he had Mariote and Orabilis back in the cottage. He'd come back later, with his mount, to retrieve the wood they had gathered. They had just reached the path that would take them back home when Mariote's tears began to fall.

Her tears enflamed his rage toward the two men. He was half tempted to send the girls back to the cottage alone whilst he went back and killed the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. But one look at Mariote, whose tears fell off her cheeks, told him she was in no condition to be left alone. Seeing her like this, terrified beyond measure, sickened him.

John put a protective arm around Mariote's shoulders. "Wheest la.s.s," he whispered. "We'll have ye home verra soon."

She did not pull away or resist his words of comfort or his arm. Instead, she leaned into him and continued to cry.

He had no experience with children, let alone girls of Mariote's age, from which he could draw. His only experience with young la.s.ses was as a young lad trying to get in their good graces and steal kisses. Or anything else the young lady was willing to offer.

The shame of how he had behaved in his youth was overwhelming. He made a silent and solemn vow, that if he were ever blessed with sons, he would teach them to respect young ladies far more than he ever had. And were he blessed with daughters like these young women, he would teach them that all young men were nothing more than lying b.a.s.t.a.r.ds with only one thing on their minds. He'd teach his daughters how to defend themselves against such young men. He'd arm them to the teeth with sgian dubhs, and aye, even swords and maces if it meant he could keep them from getting hurt.

"Ye should have killed them," Orabilis offered as she held on to her sister's hand. "I would have. I'd have stuck me sgian dubh so far into their hearts, they would no' have had time to be surprised."

Though he was surprised by Orabilis' declaration, he could not fault her for it. Nay, he felt something he could only describe as fatherly pride toward the child. He wouldn't have to worry about her being able to protect herself as she grew older. Still, he felt he had to offer some sort of fatherly words of wisdom, especially as it pertained to the events in question.

"Aye, Orabilis, I wanted to kill them as well. But," he explained, "killin' a man is serious business and no' a decision to be made lightly. Were they no' the sheriff's deputies, I would have done just that."

Orabilis leaned forward to get a better look at him. "Why no'? Why does it matter who is hurting us?"

John took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. How on earth could he explain it when he wasn't sure himself that he understood. "To a certain extent, Orabilis, ye be right. We should be able to defend ourselves against any man, regardless of his station in life. I did no' kill them because I do no' ken what kind of man yer sheriff be. If he's anything like his men, my explanation would have fallen on deaf ears and I'd probably be hanged. I had to proceed with more caution than I would have under different circ.u.mstances."

From her expression, John could tell she was trying to make sense of it.

Mariote finally spoke up. Between sobs, she explained it better than John had. "He couldn't kill them because the sheriff would no' have been happy, Orabilis. Ye ken the man. He's mean and does no' understand the meanin' of the word justice. We all would have been in a good deal of trouble." She wiped her tears away with her fingertips. "Now, please, I do no' want to talk about it anymore." She pulled away from John then, and ran the rest of the way home.

CHAPTER 8.

To say Moirra was furious over what had happened to her daughter would have been an immense understatement. Fuming mad, she paced around the tiny cottage, clenching her hands into fists, cursing like John had never heard a woman do. He wasn't sure if he should be terrified of her wrath or thankful that she was on his side.

"George and Harry are two of the most disgusting, vile, horrible men I've ever laid me eyes on!" Moirra seethed. "And that sheriff they work for is even worse!"

Mariote sat in a chair at the table, her hands folded in her lap as she watched her mother. John sat opposite her, watching her as carefully as he watched Moirra. He had never witnessed a woman behave in this manner and he was momentarily stunned by her reaction.

"Moirra," he said in a low and calm voice. "Mayhap we should send the three younger daughters out of doors fer a spell?"

Moirra stopped mid rant and spun to look at him. Her face was red with rage and for a moment, he thought she would direct all her anger at him. She glanced about the room and saw that Esa, Muriale, and Orabilis were sitting on her bed, huddled together, and looking quite upset.

She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. "I be sorry, children. I truly am. I be makin' a spectacle of meself and I apologize to ye now. I am just so angry with those men that -" she stopped herself before she exploded again. "Mayhap John be right. Wait fer me out of doors, but do no' leave the yard."

They didn't wait for further instructions. They climbed off the bed and hurried toward the door.

"Moirra," John began. "I ken ye be angry, and ye have a right to be. Mayhap we should go to the sheriff and lodge a complaint against these men?"

"No!" Moirra and Mariote shouted in unison.

John took two cautious steps backward.

The two women exchanged glances with one another, fear alight in their eyes. Mariote looked as though she wanted to retch and Moirra had turned green.

After a long moment, Moirra cleared her throat. "The men," she began to explain. "They be the sheriff's men. He'll no' do a thing to help any of us."

"He's a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Mariote whispered under her breath.

Moirra didn't chastise the curse, instead, she gave a solemn nod of agreement.

He was at a loss as to what he should do and felt rather helpless at the moment. "Ye ken the man better than I," John said. "I'll leave what is to be done to you."

Moirra and Mariote looked relieved. "Thank ye, John," Moirra said.

"I thank ye as well, John," Mariote said. "I hate to think -"

John stopped her with a raised hand. "Please, Mariote, do no' worry over it. I swear to ye, that as long as I be here, no harm will come to any of ye."

A flicker of something pa.s.sed over Mariote's eyes, a look of hope blended with confusion.

Mayhap these women were so used to protecting themselves that when a man offered such they knew not how to respond or what to think of it. Believing now was not the time to ask them on it, John gave them a nod and left them alone.

CHAPTER 9.

O rabilis didn't rightly care what John or her mum or her bossy sisters said. She knew in her heart that Wulver was a good dog. She'd been taking care of him since he was a pup and no matter what anyone else thought, she loved him.

Though she wasn't supposed to go beyond the hill without her mum or sisters, she went anyway. It had been days since she'd seen Wulver and she worried that he might be hungry. With bits of roast rabbit tucked into the pouch tied around her waist and hidden under her ap.r.o.n, she carefully made her way over the hill. Everyone was busy with their ch.o.r.es and she felt certain she would not be missed. Besides, she had her sgian dubh carefully hidden in her boot should the need arise to protect herself.

Down the hill she went, to the little spot next to the stream that meandered through their land. A few scraggly trees stood on either side of the stream and that was where Orabilis had first met Wulver. As soon as she was certain she was out of earshot of her mum and bossy sisters, she whistled as best she could with her missing front tooth and scanned the horizon.

While she waited anxiously for Wulver, she would glance over her shoulder toward the hill. If her mum found her here alone, she would be in a good deal of trouble. In her mind and her heart she knew however, that it was worth the scolding she would receive. Wulver was one of G.o.d's creatures. Orabilis was certain he had no mum to take care of him so she felt obligated to take on that role.

Besides, he was a very good dog, no matter what her older sisters thought. They'd never seen him so they couldn't know what a good dog he truly was. And the problem of having to sneak away to tend to him would be easily solved if her mum would simply allow her to keep him. So if anything bad happened, she reasoned, it would be no one's fault but her mother's.

She was about to whistle again, when she spied Wulver coming down from the other hill. Her heart filled with glee and she felt very relieved to see him. He trotted over to her and began sniffing her hands. Orabilis giggled and gave him a pat on his head.

"Where is it?" she asked playfully. 'Twas a game they played in which Wulver had to choose which pouch he thought his treat was in. In truth, it didn't matter because Orabilis always gave him the food, even if he did choose incorrectly.

The big, black and gray dog sniffed at her ap.r.o.n, before nuzzling his nose against her left side. "Good boy!" Orabilis said. She reached into the pouch and fed him the pieces. She giggled when his tongue tickled her palm.

"I canna stay long, Wulver. Mum will be mad if I'm gone too long." She knelt down and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love ye, Wulver. Ye be the best dog. No matter what my sisters say."

Wulver licked her face and whimpered. Orabilis sighed, disheartened that she couldn't bring him home with her. "I be sorry, Wulver, but ye canna come with me today." She hugged him tightly. "Mayhap someday when I'm all grown up ye can come live with me."

She had often daydreamed about being older and having her own home. In her dreams, she would have as many dogs as she wanted and no one would tell her she couldn't.

Giving him one last hug, Orabilis stood and wiped her hands on her ap.r.o.n. "Ye run along now, Wulver, and I'll see ye soon. I promise."

The dog licked her hands once more before turning around and heading across the stream and up the hill, away from her home. Whenever she had to watch him leave, it made her stomach feel funny and her chest hurt.

Someday, she promised herself. Someday I'll be big enough to do what I want and I'll come fer ye, I promise.

With a heavy heart, she hurried home.

CHAPTER 10.

M oirra, Mariote and Esa had been cleaning up after the evening meal when the soft sweet sounds of the lute came floating in on the evening air. Every female in the little cottage stopped what she was doing and listened. The sisters all turned to look at their mother. She looked just as surprised as they felt.

Moirra followed the sound out of doors with her daughters falling in line behind her. The sound led them into the barn. They stood in bittersweet silence just inside the door and listened to the lovely sound.

Moirra cast a glance at her oldest daughters. Tears fell freely down Mariote's cheeks as she slipped a hand inside her mother's. Moirra's heart felt as though it was being squeezed as she listened to the music and saw the way her daughters were looking up at the loft.

How many years had it been since they had last heard that same melody? A flood of memories came crashing in and 'twas all she could do not to fall to her knees.

When the song ended, little Orabilis, not understanding the significance of the moment, and being only six, began clapping. Her mother and older sisters all gasped as they whispered for her to stop. But it was too late.

They heard a rustling from above before John's head appeared over the edge of the loft.

His expression turned from frustrated to confused when he caught site of his wife, Mariote, and Esa, all quietly weeping.

"What be the matter?" he asked as he began to climb down the ladder. "Is someone ill? Injured?"

Moirra couldn't speak, she could only shake her head and wipe away her tears.

John eyed each of them curiously. When he looked lastly at Orabilis, she shrugged her shoulders. "I do no' ken why they cry, John. I thought it sounded pretty!"

Mariote wiped her face and finally found her voice. "Me da used to play the lute. He used to play that same song for us when we were little." Her voice cracked as she fought back tears.

John went pale. "I - I am verra sorry la.s.ses," he said. "I didna mean to bring ye any pain. I swear, I'll never play it again."

"No!" Moirra, Mariote, and Esa all cried out in unison.

John took a step back, perplexed. He would never understand the opposite s.e.x.

"Please, John," Mariote said, wiping away more tears. "'Twas beautiful -" she searched for the proper way to explain how she was feeling. "I miss me da, every day. To hear the lute, to hear the beautiful sound, it fills me heart with joy." Her skin burned crimson as if admitting to anyone she had such tender feelings was shameful.

John looked to his wife then. She was smiling, even though her eyes were wet with tears. "Mariote speaks the truth. Ye play verra well and 'tis somethin' we've missed fer a verra long time."

How could a person cry and smile so brightly at once? It made very little sense to him.

"Will ye play more?" Esa asked as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve. "We'd be verra happy if ye did."

Moirra nodded her head in agreement while Mariote and Esa both waited with eager antic.i.p.ation. Muriale and Orabilis smiled up at him.

"Verra well, then," he agreed. "But I fear I be no' verra good at it. 'Tis just somethin' I do every now and again."

A squeal of delight and a round of clapping broke through the quiet night. "Thank ye, John!" Mariote exclaimed.

Had he known all he needed to do to get this young la.s.s' approval was to play a few notes on his lute, he'd have done it days ago.

For the next two hours, John happily played every tune that he knew, which was not many. He ended up playing the same handful of melodies over and over again. At first, his wife and step-daughters kept back, near the door, and simply listened, with blissful smiles plastered on their faces. At some point, pitchers of cider and ale were brought to the barn, along with stools, though no one did much sitting.

When he chose livelier tunes, these beautiful women he was coming to adore more with each pa.s.sing moment, began to dance about the barn. He'd gladly play all the night long, just to see their smiles and hear their giggles and laughter. He finally found a way to connect with them and it made his heart swell with pride.

When Muriale and Orabilis began to yawn, John slowed the pace of his melodies. After a few lullabies, Moirra finally called an end to the evening's festivities.

Beaming at her daughters, she drew them all in for a hug. "Daughters, the hour grows verra late," she began.

The girls, knowing full well what their mother was about to say began to protest. Moirra smiled down at them but remained firm. "'Tis late and we've much to do on the morrow. Mayhap if ye are good and help John with his ch.o.r.es on the morrow, ye might be able to convince him to play again."

They turned their attention toward John and began to plead with him.

He held up his hand to stop them. "Aye, I'll play again fer ye, but only if ye do as yer mum says and go to bed straight away."

Uncertain if he would make good on his threat, the girls hugged him tightly before hugging their mum and racing out of the barn. "Thank ye, John!" Mariote smiled from the doorway. "Thank ye verra much!"

John's heart had never felt lighter. 'Twas the first time Mariote had smiled at him. 'Twas the first time the children hugged him. 'Twas the first time in a very long time that he felt a part of a family. His chest felt full and his spirits light.

When Moirra saw the door to the cottage close behind her daughters, she turned to face John.