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SAGA OF SENGA & ULGAR'
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It was a crisp
autumn day in Alba and the trees were turning to a tapestry of bright reds,
orange, yellows and brown. The afternoon
sun filtered through the leaves giving golden ribbons for the faeries to dance
upon. This was the time of the ‘Gathering of Clans’. A truce was to be honoured between any
warring clans and important issues were to be discussed amongst the tribes for
the survival of the Picts as a whole.
News was brought
by travellers from throughout their country and the far shores beyond. It was a time of decision making and gaiety
throughout the camps. Contests of skill,
bravery and of course the skills of making the finest mead and whiskey in all
of Alba took place.
It was also a
time when Chieftains made decisions regarding the wedding of their daughters
and sons. Senga was proud that her
father had decided to let her have her own say in hopes she would fall in love
with a worthy man and be able to have a family and live in peace. Many will try to press him on this decision
for Senga was past the wedding age but being a beauty was fairly sought after
if not for her looks then for her dowry.
It was the first
evening that all would be gathered in the great hall to feast and to share news
and changes in power and authority which were not always the same tear of
bread. There were many things that they
all must heed in the near future and stand together for the powers of the
Scots, the Angles, the Romans were all like angry, greedy howling wolves at the
doors in the dead of the winter’s ice storms.
Senga smiled and
was greeted by kith and kin. She saw the
sweet new babies and it gave her a little ache in her heart for at 20 years now
she should have been wed many years ago.
It was not that she had not had suitors of all kinds but it was that she
was the oldest of a sib ship of two with one younger brother named Sean. So many watched her, her father and her
brother and spoke in whispers to one another.
It was far too
well known that the Ross held some of the best lands in all of Alba. When the trunk of the tree withers then the
leaves and branches shall fall. Senga
was to become Chieftain in a time she prayed was long away. Her brother thought only of carousing
drinking and loose women and happy not to have the mantle of leadership it was
just too much work which came along with it.
Senga’s mother
had died in the Spring from a fever eight years prior and Senga stepped into
the cloak of cook, cleaner and warriors.
She loathed fighting but her father insisted as she would lead the Clan
one day and for now could protect herself.
Sean was an avid
warrior as well and would not back down from a fight but would not draw first
blood. As Clan Ross they were more
interested in keeping what they owned rather than seeking to gain from the
death of others. The threat to them was
the men that came from the mist of the sea on the backs of dragons to lay
pillage and rape on their lands.
Vikings!
Senga dressed in
a long green woollen gown that was practical for the climate of the Highlands
this time of year. It had red embroidery
on the sleeves, hem and neckline. On her
feet were deerskin boots lined with sheep’s wool for the oil in the wool helped
keep the feet soft and supple and of course dry. Following her father down through the crowded
rows of people on each side of them they found the place for the three of them
to sit.
Sean was all
about shaking hands with the people her father Seamus was introducing them to
but she kept a slight smile and offered a nod to those she was meeting for the
first time. Her father and brother sat
down and she was a bit hesitant. There
was something in the air, something she could not discern but it was a feeling
of dread. Looking warily around the room
she sat down on the bench between her father and her brother.
The food was
being served by many various types of people.
She always said a kind thank you and then would resume eating and all
the while listening. Something was about
to happen this night that would change lives solemnly, drastically. She was blessed or cursed with the gift of
empathy and foretelling the possible future that the fates would allow her to
see. The foreboding was almost
overwhelming but she could not see what was about to happen nor could any in
that Great Hall perceive the near future.
There were not
only the Picts here but some people from around the world and were here as
guests of the Clan Chief’s they sat with.
Even Viking Jarl’s that had stayed behind a raid to try to make a life
in a new and fertile land. Yet the
Highlands were a hard task master for some of the terrain was mountains forged
in time from the ancient fires of the volcanoes that created the immense island
that they lived on.
The smells of the
room were heavenly as she inhaled the air of the fresh baked breads, the five
bird roasts, wild boar and red deer.
Cheeses from the Orkneys and other places made from the rich milk of the
wild highland cows with their long hair hanging down in their face. She loved them and yet was greatly aware that
they could be a vicious adversary as were some Clan Chieftains. Sipping her
Cullen Skink which she loved so much and of course the Great King of the Picts,
Alpin II, would have cooks that were superb with their many flavours and
spices.
Although she kept
quiet she felt like she was being stared at and if she raised her head she
would meet the eyes of a man that would change her life forever and put her on
the trail that the fates had pre-destined for her....her father.... and her
brother.
A few tables
across from where the Clan Ross sat eating was the Clan Forbes whose aging
Chieftain, Gartnait the First, with his sons, Cailtram and Gartnait II, had a
hungry eye about him and always looking to war and overpower other Clans that
were weaker. It was said that his and
his offspring were born of a woman and a dire wolf. His sons were fierce warriors and he sought
for them good strong women that would bear him many grandsons. His eye had been
on Senga all day from the shadows while his sons drank and bedded wenches. Senga was a beauty, her svelte figure was
made for pleasure and for bearing the grandsons he so desperately needed to
keep the Clan Strong.
“Have a look
aboot ye lads. There be no fairer, no
wiser, than that wench there of the Clan Ross.
The one that weds her gains all that which belongs to the
Gillanders.” He used his knife to stab a
goose leg and pull it off and to his trencher.
Pulling out the knife he then picked up the drumstick and set into
eating it as if it were the first food he had seen in months. Yet by the looks of his robust belly and his
sons’ too, they ate very often and very well.
“She be a looker
for sure but I want more flesh on my women and younger, more tender of flesh
perhaps. Bedding her would be like
sleeping on the bare cold ground most like in a blizzard. Look at her she has no smile on her
face. A sour one that and churlish of
her ways. No not for me” said the eldest
brother, Gartnait, who knew he would have their own Clan when his father
dies.
Yet the more
devious of the two was the youngest, Cailtram, who knew that he would never
ascend to the Chieftain hood unless both his father and his brother died. He ate and kept looking up across to see if
she would dare to raise her head and meet his gaze. “I find her pleasing to the eye and once on
top of them women are all the same.
She looks like
the kind that will learn her place one way or another and bear me great
sons. A good choice father and the union
of the lands comes with it. We grow even
stronger and bolder. Besides once I get
her with child then I can have any of the others I want. I see no problem. Have you asked Seamus for
her? Or better yet because of her age
then perhaps it wiser to go through the King’s Order.” He said and licked his
knife then reached forward and carved a hunk of gammon from the bone putting it
on his trencher.
“Hey brother,
perhaps I can warm her up for you. We
could both have her after the hall is dismissed. What say ye brother??” and he raised his
eyebrows up and down with the thought of it as he turned and faced
Cailtram. “Or father gets the claim to
prima nocta as the Saxons and Anglos do.
You go first dae!” he roared then with laughter at his plan.
“I have already
sought out the King in this matter and he agrees that it will ‘unite’ our
clans. We can stand strong as a force
against the Vikings from the North and Scots, Anglos and Saxons from the South. Convincing the she wolf to lay down in
submission shall be fun for all three of us.
If we have to then we steal her away in the night, If she does not
please then we sell her to the Vikings and thus weaken the Clan.” Replied ‘Gartnait the First’ to both of his
sons.
With the meal
finished King Alpin II sat on his throne and called up each Chieftain that had
approached him with issues during the day.
Finally it came to Forbes, the last Clan to speak this night.
“Come forward
Clan Forbes and Clan Ross. We will
conclude this evening on a merry note.” He said as both Chieftains rose. There was dread written across the face of
Seamus as he glanced over to his mortal enemy.
Senga sat there watching and taking it all in but now she felt suddenly
sick as her eyes came to rest on the sons of Gartnait. A cold shiver ran through her body as that
feeling of doom closed in on her. Her
brother was solemn for once and watched as well to see what was taking
place.
Both Seamus and
Gartnait bowed to the king and then rose.
Both men quiet but the look of two volcanoes about to explode in the
midst of it all.
“Chieftain Seamus
Ross you have done me proud in times of peace and battle. I have thought hard on what I am going to say
to you this day.” He turned his head and looked at the other man “Chieftain
Gartnait the First you too have fought strongly by my side. But the two of your clans battle each other
untiringly. I make this decision on
behalf of all involved. Seamus Ross you
will give your daughter Senga Ross to Cailtram Forbes to wife and unite the two
Clans.” Such a clatter arose in the Great Hall, some with cheering and some
with booing. “This is my decision so be
it!”
“NO! My liege I beseech you do not do this!” he
turned to Gartnait drawing his knife. “I
will not see my daughter bartered for power by anyone and most certainly to the
wolves of Forbes!” he glared at Gartnait who now had drawn his knife. Both men glared at each other daring the
other to move. The King slammed his fist
down on the table. “The wedding will be
tomorrow. The two of you are held to the
truce that rules this gathering. My word
is final!”
Senga looked at
her brother as any colour drained out of her face. “The King has given me over to our worst
enemies. Her stomach rumbled as if she
were to become sick. She rose with her
hand to her stomach and raced from out of the Great Hall and into the
darkness. Her brother was torn whether
to wait for their father or go after her.
She could not escape this but if he killed both brothers and cut the
head off their viper father then he would spare her this.
Both Cailtram and
his brother Gartnait stood and went after the other two. Once outside it was so dark one could not see
their hand in front of their face. The
distant circles of fires were the only lights which glowed eerily in the black
velvet night. Off to one side there was
the ale tent. So Cailtram and Gartnait
went in there to look for the blushing bride to be “A pint or two will suffice
before we venture further brother” Gartnait said and grabbed two tankards.
“Damn we have to
find her. Well a couple more drinks would be helpful I am sure.” He laughed as
they watched the crowded room and the tent openings for any sign of the
runaway.
Unwittingly Senga
and her brother sought to hide in the crowd and went into the tent to try to
blend in. It was too late, they were
spotted and a huge fight broke out as Cailtram grabbed Senga by the arm to jerk
her out side.
Senga wrestled to
get free and the drunks inside could care less.
Suddenly she caught sight of Sean and Gartnait fighting. Too late she saw the knife manage to go
through Sean’s heart ending his life instantly.
Fighting and wrestling more from her future husband Cailtram back handed
her and sent her sprawling across the mud floor. “Come to heel woman or your father will
suffer the same fate as your brother.
You are mine and by the Gods I WILL tame you!”.
Although
Ulgar had only been passing through, he felt obliged by their welcoming
generosity to accompany the tribe to their northern homelands. The idea of having been named Chieftain had
not quite sunk into his thick skull but the comradely manner in which he was
doted on by the others gave him reason to stick around more. And then, there was the outspoken beauty
that he’d rescued. She was surely a fine
specimen of a woman, his eyes glued upon her strong, very shapely figure.
Senga
had given up her horse to let another woman ride and now she walked with some
of her kinfolk in mournful silence. As
Ulgar watched her, mesmerized by her beauty, one of the warrior hunters nudged
him with an elbow, “That one be a real spitfire”, he joked, “I reckon ye’ll be
getting lots of tongue lashings from her.”Ulgar wrenched his gaze away from
Senga and redirected his attention upon the man who’d spoken so callously of
her.
He
reached out with a lunging arm and promptly knocked the man off his horse. A roar of laughter escalated around them from
those who had witnessed it. Ulgar glanced over his shoulder at the astonished
man, now being helped to his feet by his obedient, gentle wife and doting
son. Ulgar scowled a warning look and
then softened his expression with a grin, “If ye cannot handle the thorns, then
don’t be desiring the rose.”A pause of silence came over the nomadic family as
they contemplated the meaning of their new chieftain’s words. Finally one shouted out with understanding,
“Aiyee! The rose …”, he pointed to Senga, … with thorns!”
An
explosion of laughter filled the silence as they took turns comparing all the
women in their clan to their favorite flowers, naming them and the attribute
that fit; The delicate fragrant Lilac,
the bright-eyed Poppy, the exotic Lilly, the cheerful Sunflower, the gentle
Pansy, and the robust Dahlia, among many others. It became an afternoon game that helped
shorted the length of their journey.
As
the sun began to set, all were in good spirits as they prepared to set up night
camp. Ulgar was impressed with the efficiency of this clan and in the
cooperative manner of which they helped each other. A surge of pride filled his heart. He walked closer to Senga to check up on her,
“If you feel more secure staying the night in your cousins yurt, I’ll
understand”, he said as his large hand gently brushed the windblown hair from
her lovely face. He opened his skin
bladder of water and offered her a first drink before satisfying his own thirst.
Senga
had a lot on her mind and the fact that Ulgar had been named the new Chieftan.
As she walked along she kept her head lowered but she caught side glimpses of
the man when he was not looking. He was
a tall man and definitely a warrior. Did
he have a wife? A family? Where was this
man from as he appeared Viking yet not?
As
she tread on, the loss of her father and brother weighing heavy on her, she
shook her head to clear it a bit. That
was when the ruckus began as she turned just in time to knoc one of her cousins
off his horse. No easy feat that. She had not heard what it was over and so was
laughing with her people. They needed
laughter in their life and she was happy to join in for a few moments.
Then
Ulgar did something strange as he stopped in front of her. She looked up into his eyes, his ruggedly
handsome face as she drew a breath and let it out. "Pray tell me Ulgar? What brings you to this land of war. We are clans fighting clans, no time to fight
the Sassenach, the romans and the saxon's. Caledonia has its own battles and
many good men died due to these."
She took the flask and only drank a small bit of the water. "I thank you, thank you for all you have
done and now you are our Chieftain. The
Gairtnait's will not stop until they taste the blood of every one of us.
You
should move on in the morning. They will
already be on the hunt Ulgar. Please
stay safe." Why did she feel worry,
it must just be out of grattitude. He
said she could go sleep in her cousin's yurt.
Would that she could sleep. She
let out a long sigh "follow me Ulgar I want to show you something.
Listening to his reply about who he was, where he came from and perhaps
disclose if there was a wife.... 'shamless' her conscious called her but at
least she was no flirt and would not sleep with any man until her wedding
feast.
She
walked hoping he would follow and when he did she smiled to herself. As they crossed the encampment she took him
to a large yurt. Opening the door back
she looked up at this hero to her people.
"This is your yurt, you will sleep on these furs and will be
guarded by us through the night. I will
go sleep in my cousins yurt until it is time for me to pull watch. Go ahead and there is food and fresh water
already in there awaiting you."
She
felt a flood of emotion as this was the family yurt because her father was the
Chieftain. He, her brother and herself
slept in there and a modesty blanket was put up to ensure her personal
privacy. It would not be right for her
to sleep under the same roof as the stranger.
"I will go now but if anything interrupts your sleep call out and
it will be stopped the best we can."
Turning
she headed out of the yurt to go to her cousin's yurt. Pulling back the hide to enter she found it
empty just now. She would sleep first
then take guard in the night.
The
revenge, that Ulgar had set out to fulfill, burned bitter hatred in his
heart. Most of his family was dead,
except for a cowardly brother who was now baron of his father’s lands. Oh the injustice of it all! Ulgar’s forehead crinkled in the rage of this
passing thought, his face turning beet red as his blood pressure rose. What could he say in response to this
Caledonian princess? Ulgar clamped his
mouth tight and searched his angry feelings for the right words to speak
aloud. His deep voice was low in the
tight restraint of emotion, “Was travelling westward …”, his hand lifted to
point towards the setting sun, “… to the lands of the Celts in search of some
Peace of Mind. “
The
anger melted to a simmer in the confession of the white lie. Peace of mind. Those words hit home hard. Gazing at her untamed beauty gave Ulgar a
great Peace of Mind feeling. But yet …
his eyes drifted off into the far horizon towards the revenge he wanted. Flashback images of his mother lying dead,
her body bruised and bloodied. Peace of
Mind. Ulgar’s eyes stung with the
saltiness of tears squeezing out. He
quickly wiped them away, hiding the raw emotions. To what Peace of Mind would his mother have?
Ulgar’s
mind hung with the weight of indecision.
It would be a whole nother year’s travel to track down the murdering
raiders who tortured his mother and kidnapped his sister. Would his beloved mother be proud of him to
ignore the prospect of love in favor of vengeance? Ulgar sucked in a deep breath, inflating the
large barrel of his chest and sighed it out slowly again. He kept his thoughts in check and bowed low
to enter the yurt being offered to him.
As
Ulgar stretched out on the cot with his large 6 and a half foot length, his
feet hung over the far end. One arm
lifted and curled back behind his neck to support his head as he stared up at
the tarp ceiling. His dreams would be
riddled with the horrors of watching his mother brutally raped and murdered,
and the helpless feeling of seeing his sister being dragged off like a common
whore, if not worse, a lowly dog. During
the night, he tossed and turned, restless with bad dreams … and then she came
to him, the Chieftain’s daughter Senga, and instantly he was bathed in tranquillity. The nightmare ended with her angelic
savageness lulling him closer with opened arms.
Fast
asleep, Ulgar called her name aloud, “Senga…”, his racing heartbeat slowed to a
steady rhythm and once more his dreams centered on the Peace of Mind that he so
desperately wanted. By the dawn’s first
light, his eyes blinked open and he stretched with a big yawn, feeling more
rested than he had been previously in a very long time. Ulgar actually smiled to himself, finding the
new day to be exciting and full of endless possibilities. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Slipping off his cot and stuffing his legs
into the hide sewn trousers, he bunched up yesterday’s tunic and tossed it
aside.
Today
was special. He would wear a clean
tunic. Strolling out the yurt to where
his horse was tethered, his muscular rippled torso welcomed the early morning
sunlight, Ulgar dug into his saddle bags for a fresh smelling tunic. He saw her standing across the campsite as
he slipped into the tunic and lifted a hand in greeting, raising his voice in
cheerful mood, “Hail to thee my lady Senga.
The sunlight pales in comparison to your exquisite radiance.”
The
low undertone of snickering accompanied the jesting eyes that rolled with
sarcastic implication. Ulgar felt the
heat of a defensive anger welling up.
Why did these people mock her so?
Striding forwards with an assertive attitude of not caring, Ulgar gave a
hard shove to the nearest person standing in his way between Senga and
himself.
The
unlucky clansman went tumbling undignified unto the ground. He would had
normally rise again to his feet and challenge the insolent fool, but being that
it was their new Chieftain, he hesitated and looked around for the support of
friends’ encouragement. There was none.
All eyes of his friends averted away, leaving him to sit and stew in his
indignation alone. But the point was
made. There would be no further snide looks or snickering towards the very
outspoken and opinionated Senga in Ulgar’s presence.
Rising
from doing the wash at the riverside with the other women she put all the
clothes in a wicker basket she had made herself from willow river. These style baskets worked well for all their
purposes from washing to gathering food to even the first bed of a newborn
child. Senga had washed the clothes of
Ulgar that she had slipped in while he was sleeping and picked up. She was sure that she was as quiet as a field
mouse.
Silently
she had stolen a few moments of the morning and gazed upon the man that had
taken up the fight in her favour dispatching the ones that she was
fighting. Senga wanted to die with her
father and her brother if need be for she knew that their clan was no match for
the Clan Forbes.
Only
in his last dying words had her father named a stranger to take over the rank
of Chieftain over the clan and be bound to dying man's wish to take care of
her. She would tell this giant of a man,
Ulgar, no matter how handsome he was to her eyes but that he was not bound to
the promise of protection and that he could also go his way if he wished for
she would see that he was not bound to a Clan that were soon to perish. Best he leave now and not receive harm.
Senga
washed her father and her brother's clothing and would distribute them out to
their people. Nothing was wasted amongst them and all ate the same, drank the
same and suffered the same. Their
Pictish life was a harsh one but it strived in equality amongst the Clans.
This
was something that Clan Forbes did not comprehend. They would come. Yes she knew they would come and come for her
and her Chieftain Ulgar. She would speak
to him of leaving and perhaps return to his lands and family, maybe a wife and
children, he looked to be a very virile man would have many children for sure.
Today’s
trip would bring them home to the Eastern Cliffs of their lands. The castle would hold what was left of the
clan if it need be. As she rose and took
the back of her hand to wipe a stray strand of hair that had fallen down in her
eyes placing it back behind her ear. It
was a rare autumn day that was sunny for now but their lands were prone more to
rain and gales. The wind was crisp and
cool. Senga and the other women's hands were red from the icy chill already in
the river water.
Senga
lifted her hand for a wave after she had seen the incident that sent Tam
tumbling. More or less it was probably
his fault for being insolent regarding herself.
Many or most of the men had their opinions and many a single lad thought
to take her to wed and into their bed to raise a family and carry on their
tradition.
With
the basket held on to her hip at her left side by her left arm and hand to
leave her right arm free if she needed to draw her sword. Yes, Senga carried a sword at all times. She was a warrior and she could even best her
brother but not her father, yet almost.
Her countenance dropped then as she the horror of her family's death
came about. Should she have just gone
blindly into that wedding for her family's sake, her clans sake. Should she do it still and join the lands of
the two clans?
~No
Senga, your destiny lies elsewhere, you must watch with yours eyes, ears, and
senses. You are a spiritual medicine woman; you have a great purpose. I and your brother are here now with your
mother. You have a life to live and it
is before you not behind you my daughter.
Follow your heart and you will do what is right for you and the tribe. ~
Senga stumbled and dropped to her knees in tears as the voice of her father
sang in her ears. She sat back and put
her hands to her cover her eyes as she wept unashamedly an emotion, she had not
let take her until she could bear no more.
The
clan gathered around her but none went to her side for they knew what was
happening. She was hearing the voices of
the ancestors; she was now letting all the anguish and grief out. Doubled over with her arms wrapped about her
stomach she sobbed heavily. ~Father, you
gave our clan to a stranger, what if he is no better than Gaitnach
She
rose then slowly getting to her feet and it look in her eyes was that of
leaping flames of hatred and revenge.
Perhaps
Ulgar had misjudged the strange habits of these foreign people. From across the camp he saw his newly
betrothed fall to her knees and break down into sorrowful tears. Concern filled Ulgar’s eyes as he tried to
rush over there to help her but already there was a crowd gathering, blocking
his way through to Senga. Speechless, he
watched as she spoke to the heavens above. He almost expected the bright blue
sky to reply to her. Perhaps it did, but he was not able to hear it for
himself.
All
heads turned with eyes solely upon him as she singled him out as their
Chieftain. Ulgar felt his face heat red
in the attention of all. He tried to
stand tall and proud, head high. Being
a mountain of a man, that dignified posture came naturally to him. The fact that all the clansfolk lowered their
eyes to him with a demure head bow puffed his chest out just a little
more. He slowly and gently pushed his
way through them all to stand solidly at Senga’s side as they dispersed back to
what they were all doing before.
He
had heard her pleading words and it weighed heavily in conflict within his
mind. He couldn’t understand her fear
but he had no doubt that it was real in her own mind. Ulgar reassuringly took
her smaller hand into his own giant one, speaking quietly in his deep strong
voice, “When I was a wee lad, a tribe similar as such to the Forbes came
a’raiding and destroyed everything that I knew and loved. They raped and
murdered my mother, slaughtered my father, and enslaved my sister. To this very
day, my heart is thick with the blood of vengeance. Ever since that horrific day, I’ve spent my
entire life devoted to hunting down these bastards and exacting my great wrath
upon them for what they had done.”
Bitter
hatred and grief filled Ulgar’s eyes, tight in his strained voice, “That became
my only sole purpose in my lifetime and was an obsession that kept me alive …
until I chanced upon you, Senga Ross. I don’t know how best to explain this,
but for the first time, in a very long time, something else of equal importance
matters to me now. You matter to me,
Senga. Your people matter to me. My family is already dead; save for a
cowardly brother and a lost sister, but for the here and now, I want to help
you and yours find the peace in life that I shall never know.”
Ulgar
bent over to pick up her basket of clothing, tucking it under his muscular
arm. With his free other hand, he
invited her to walk with him. Ulgar
continued to speak quietly, laced with regret, “My demons will always haunt
me. Somewhere out there is the murderers
of my family. I cannot let this same
cruel fate happen to you. I don’t want
you to feel the bitter cold in your heart like I do. Can you possibly understand my plight?”
As
they approached her yurt, he set down the basket and sighed out the emotion of
his intense grief, hardening it once more to that wrathful anger that sustained
him. “Senga”, he spoke once more in a
hoarse whisper, “I have strong feelings for you. Don’t shun me away. I need you just as much
as you need me; of that I promise you. I was an empty shell of a man before I
met you. Now … I cannot imagine a day
without you in my life. You fill me with
life.”
He
had poured his heart out to her. The raw
emotions now bled from his veins. Ulgar swept her into one strong arm and
sought her lips with a deep and passionate kiss, hoping to convince her of his
sincerity. If this feisty lady were to
slap him or shove him away, he would bear that shame with dignity. Even if it were to be as such, he would not
give up his heart’s pursuit of her. He
had nothing else left to live for, and everything to die for.
Senga
was numb from her release of her pent up emotions and her fears. Her people respected her and knew that this
release was bound to come. Surely it
would free her heart to see what her father had actually done. He had provided her with a protector in his
place for he knew it was only the beginning.
Almost
too weak to walk she silently took the large hand of this mountain of a
man. As they walked she listened to his
words. So much to take in and yet the
one thing that stood out was his determination to stay the Chieftain of this
trybe. She swallowed hard and turned to
him just as he swept her into his strong arm and held her to him as he stole a
kiss. Not just a kiss but one that
awakened her female realms so wide she found her breath taken away.
At
first Senga tried to wriggle free but he held her fast and his lips were
relentless. She strained to fee and arm
and push him away. Thoughts were
whirling in her mind of what should she do.
As Ulgar released her she did not slap him…. She punched him with a hard
upper cup and drew out of his arm clasp but hesitating and trying to catch her
breath he had stolen. Little did she know that he was slowly stealing more than
that. This huge man was endeavouring and
succeeding to capture her wee heart.
“Give
me the basket and go about any business you think you need to do today. I have heard your words and my heart and
sympathy go out to you but you have no idea what you have done. My father should never have saddled you with
the responsibility of our trybe. You
came to my rescue but it is not over.
The Forbes will come, Gartnait will come for me now and stop at nothing
but to make me his bride since the death of his brother. This is not your war Ulgar. I am the one that will have to stop an
onslaught by wedding Gartnait and still I am no fool the oppression will remain
and Gartnait will do what he wants no matter what your heart or mine want.”
Taking
the basket she stood there in front of Ulgar with her heart pounding. “Perhaps you should go back to your people,
your family, your beloved if you have one.
We will not bind you here. We are
all grateful of your fierce intervention.”
The she dropped her head and said quietly “I am sorry that I hit
you. I am prone to have a temper that
overrules my head at times. Forgive me
you deserve so much more.”
The swinging punch to his
jaw stung, but it did not bruise his ego. She sure had one hell of a
fiery temper. Amused by this defiance, Ulgar weighed the amount of anger
in her eyes. There seemed to be a mixture of indecision there, but her
sharp words cut his ego deeper than did the blow to the jaw. Instantly,
the upward curve of his mouth fell into a frown. The rejection went into
his core as he turned his face away from Senga, lest she see the flash of hurt
expressed in his face. He had poured his heart and soul to her and yet
her ears were deaf to what he had said. His tone was bitter as he spoke, “My
family is dead. I already told you that.”
Ulgar decided he no longer
wanted to talk about it. She had her chance to know his past and she
botched it. His emotions shut down, except for that vengeful anger that
had kept him alive throughout his maturing years into adulthood. The
anger was his only comfort, his constant and faithful companion.
After relinquishing the
basket to her arms, the giant of a man stomped off with a heavy slump to his
shoulders. The thoughts churning around in his mind blinded him to
everything else. The Forbes would come, she’d said. His large
shaggy head shook back and forth as his fists clenched, “No they won’t. I’ll
make damned sure of it, with or without your permission.”
He spent the rest of the
day among the other men of her tribe. He tried to be helpful and learn
the tasks they do on a daily basis. Their way of doing things were
different than what he remembered as a young boy living among his peers.
At first he was clumsy with his hands as they showed him how to cinch the ropes
of the yurts to withstand the open plains strong wind. The other men
found light-hearted humor in
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