Page 29 of Flanders' Folly
“True. True.” She seemed no more relieved.
“Come to Todlaw, my friend. Come and rest. And we shall decide what to do about yer husband after ye’ve regained yer strength. Despite what happens to him, we cannot leave the rest of yer people to Heslington in any case. He has a history of allowing people to starve.”
Gert nodded, satisfied for the moment at least.
15
HOME AND HEARTH
* * *
The journey to Todlaw took most of the day. What should have been a direct route became a winding path as they avoided main roads and open spaces, sticking to the cover of forests. The group moved as one, a strange, silent caravan of the displaced.
The fifteen women and one lassie from the pit was now a party of over forty, what with husbands and eleven wee-uns. Some of them rode on their fathers' shoulders or on horseback. The women, despite their ordeal in the pit, showed remarkable resilience. And through it all, Flanders and Robert were prepared for a pursuit that never came.
By the time Todlaw's walls appeared on the horizon, it was late, and the orange of the sunset glowed behind the silhouette of Flanders’ beloved home and elicited a collective sigh from its new guests.
Flanders signaled to the watchtower with a whistle, and the gates swung open to receive them. As they filed in, the people of Todlaw filled the outer bailey to see for themselves that their young laird had returned hale and healthy. Word spread quickly, and soon Gerts’ people were provided with blankets, hot food, and a warm welcome. Robert took it upon himself to find shelters for them all.
Flanders escorted Lady Stephan to the main tower where she and Brigid were fed. Despite his protests, women from the kitchens soon came to lead Brigid away, along with Gerts so they could bathe. He realized the stench of the pit had attached itself to him as well, so he hurried to do the same.
* * *
Brigid loweredherself into the giant barrel and silently wept for the joy of being surrounded completely by steaming water. It had been so long since she’d been able to indulge in such luxury, and she’d needed it more than she realized. And not just to remove the stench and soil from the past two days.
Likely due to her gift of premonition, she’d been unable to get warm since they’d set out on their Mabon journey. No matter where she found herself—inside some keep, sitting by a fire, or simply wrapped tight in layers of wool, she’d shivered like a fevered bairn. Perhaps her bones had known how much time she’d be spending in that foul, cursed pit or beneath that pallet, in the dugout, huddled against the cold earth.
Or maybe it was the sure knowledge that death had been waiting for her and her sister.
Heaven only knew why she had been spared. But now, the danger had passed. She was devastated and lost without her other half, but she was safe. There was no doubt Flanders would never allow such monsters near her again, so she should, at the very least, be able to breathe slow and relax a mite. And yet…
She tried to sit perfectly still while the women of Todlaw aided Gerts, and though the water around her had settled, waves bubbled up around her and moved away in tiny circles that quickly flattened and died.
Her body trembled. Violent and steady. And no matter how she concentrated, she couldn’t make it stop. Warm and safe and her worries taken from her, and yet her body was trying to tell her something.
A young woman came to the side of the barrel and smiled, then worried when she met Brigid’s eyes. “Auch, lass, what is it?”
“I…I can’t make it stop.”
“What? The shakin?” She smiled again. “Give it time. I remember when my ma brought me to Todlaw. It took a long while before I truly believed I was safe. Ye’re mind might ken it, and yer ears might have heard, but I reckon yer body doesn’t yet understand. It doesn’t mean ye’re broken.”
“W…what are ye called?”
“I’m Willa.”
“Ye’re a comfort, Willa, and I am grateful.”
While Willa helped her wash her hair and her body, the shaking continued, and her helper chatted soothingly through it all. Only when she was dry and dressed and seated before a freshly stoked kitchen fire did her body finally stop denying the blessings she’d been given.
* * *
Despite how thorough he was,Flanders still had to wait another hour before Brigid was returned to him. Then she appeared beside the fireplace in the great hall like an angel with a mane of fire-red hair, her face pink from scrubbing, her eyes wet with tears, and a timid smile on her face.
He’d seen her just like this in his dreams, every detail the same, down to the pale green of her robe.
"Ye've built something remarkable here," she said. With her arms wrapped tightly around herself, he assumed she was either cold or unsure, and he had the cure for either. While he distracted her with words, he took hold of her hand and led her to the laird’s chair, where he sat and pulled her onto his lap. She noticed every movement but, to his delight, she didn’t resist.
"James built it," he said. "I merely maintained it until Young Duncan was grown and able. Though I don’t think my old friend ever intended to leave it behind.”
