Sisters of The Bruce 1292-1314 (Abridged Version )

Sisters of The Bruce: Part 2; Chapter 8.8

                                                                                           VIII

Orkney

October 1314

It was fortunate for Margaret Bruce that she had time to come to terms with her betrothal. Some months earlier a missive came from her brother advising she was to marry a knight of his choice: Sir William de Carlyle and his family were well known in the Annandale area and lived not far from her grandfather's castle. Robert reassured Margaret that Sir William was a man of honour. He hoped the couple would act as guardians in the south for him. Anxious flickers of fear began to niggle at her mind's edge and a coil of nausea unravelled within her belly. There was an unwritten proviso to this betrothal. It would only go ahead as planned, if both Robert and Sir William were still alive after the battle to be held against the English.

Strategy and statesmanship had been on Robert's mind in making his selection and he failed to mention if her betrothed were young or handsome, essential facts, which might have softened the news. For now, Margaret would have to trust her brother had her best interests at heart, but she cursed his single-mindedness nonetheless.

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To Margaret's relief, the Bruce-led Scottish forces defeated their enemy. Now they were going home. Margaret was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing her kinfolk once more for Kirsty, Mary, Marjorie and Elizabeth had returned from their years of confinement. After these many years, to lay eyes once more upon her brothers as well as Mathilda – and meet her sister's children for the first time – was beyond belief. So much had been taken from them that could never be regained. In every respect, it was a jubilant but poignant time.

On the day of their departure, the small group boarded the galley out in the bay. They were wet through already; waves crested in from the western ocean and the fishing boat, which had taken them out to the larger ship, struggled to get past the early breakers. With difficulty, the brawny Hammerclett men hoisted the various trunks and boxes on board using a system of pulleys. Gulls squawked above them and a pod of white-nosed dolphins breasted the waves.

Floraidh and Bethoc fussed about Meg, as if she were a chick to be petted and kept warm. The child was on edge and fractious. Orkney was the only home she had ever known and she did not want to leave. Her blond hair blew about her open features, obscuring the anxiety within her expressive blue eyes. The experience held a sense of unreality for the ten-year-old and the many goodbyes had proved overwhelming. Feeling disconnected from the events occurring around her, Meg relished Floraidh's mothering all the more, clinging to her like a wee sea creature to a wave-swept rock.

Ellen, on the other hand, was much older. Scotland held a faint resonance within her, but resentment and yearning vied for purchase as she tried to imagine seeing her mother again after all these years. She knew they had left Kildrummy for their own safety, but she could never fully comprehend how her mother could have sent her away. Obtusely, she believed she must have done something terribly wrong to have brought on such a rejection, but no memory remained of her dreadful misdemeanours. For so long, doubt and sadness had been her constant, unwanted companions.

When the galley heaved in response to the swell, a cry rose above the crisp slap of the waves. Asgeirr's hand lay crushed between two trunks, which had slid along the deck, their weight adding to the force of impact. In immediate response, Floraidh delved within her hemp bag, producing a container of salve and a small roll of linen. As she bandaged his damaged fingers together in a makeshift splint, Asgeirr grimaced with pain, watched over by his brothers. After the family's recent ill-treatment of the healer, the men managed a few, shamefaced words of thanks, before the fishing boat returned to shore. The women waved farewell, grateful as ever for the men's help. In readiness for their departure, they settled against the tarred wood of the ship's frame.