Page 11 of The Bells of Triumph
As soon as they were all listed, Flora led them to the barn outside, where Seamus had been storing all the weapons they had been making and collecting. He stood outside, watching her with curious eyes as her group of women followed her.
“See that each of these lasses has something sharp,” she told him, loud and proud, trying not to let it show that she was truly worried about them. “They want to do their part in defending their families and homes.”
Seamus arched an eyebrow, giving her a wide grin, before he turned his attention back to the others.
“Right this way,” he said with a dramatic bow, throwing his arm behind him.
Flora swallowed a laugh, amazed that even at a time like this, he had been able to find the humor in things. He always seemed to know just how to lighten her mood.
“I wish to help too.”
Flora spun around, her heart hammering from the sudden voice behind her.
“Iona,” she said a bit breathlessly. “I did nae hear ye approach. Ye frightened me.”
The girl gave her a sheepish look of apology.
“Sorry. I just saw what ye were doing with the others, and I did nae wish to be left out of things. I ken that this is nae my clan, but Seamus is my cousin. He has been so gracious in having me, in trying to protect me. I want to return his kindness. I want to repay my debt.”
With a look of determination, of a mind made up, Iona looked so much like Seamus that Flora had to blink. Of course, Iona had rich brown hair and matching eyes, unlike Seamus' bright red hair and sky-blue eyes. But the gentle uplift of the corners of their eyes, a bottom lip that was a bit fuller than thetop, and the nose that came to a strong point at the end all looked the exact same.
“Och, Iona, ye must ken that we dinnae consider it a debt at all. Ye are kin; some of the only kin he has left. It would be a greater kindness for ye to stay here, out of the way. It would be one less thing for Seamus to worry about.”
It was unfair to say, Flora knew. But the truth was so often unfair. Just as she knew that Seamus would go to nearly any lengths to keep his cousin safe. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Iona was nearly all he had left in the way of family. It would be the greatest test of Seamus' ability to focus during the fight if he knew Iona was there as well.
“He may nae consider it a debt, but I do. I cannae sit by and do nothing when everyone else here is helping in some way. I must be useful.”
Flora sighed, knowing there would be no talking her out of this. But perhaps she could try to keep her out of the fight, at the very least.
“If ye insist,” Flora hedged, “then we could use yer help in the castle. There are bound to be countless wounds that will need tending. Would ye be willing to be with Brid there?”
Iona's entire face lit up in delight.
“Aye! That would be wonderful. I promise I will nae let ye down.”
“There is a group of other women who will be stationed in the castle once we take it. I last saw them in the tavern, making a plan to gather supplies. Ye might see if they need yer help with anything.”
“I will! Thank ye!”
Flora didn't have the chance to say anything more before Iona was flouncing through the village in search of the women she had mentioned, a renewed spring in her step. Flora couldn't help but think of how different life felt when one had a purpose.As horrible as this war was, she knew it had given so many a new purpose, a new chance to do something helpful.
For a moment, Flora stood in the middle of the village, watching everyone buzz around town, everyone doing their part to prepare for what the coming days would bring. They all carried the same renewed sense of purpose that she had seen in Iona. After decades of sitting under tyrannical rule, of being afraid to have their own thoughts and goals and dreams, unable to do so much as farm their land without being taxed to poverty, it was clear to see how much they were ready for change. Campbell had taken his toll on everyone, perhaps more than even Flora knew. The realization pushed her to move once more, leaving her spot in the center of the village, and to go off in search of Connor and Brid.
They weren't hard to find, having taken up space on the training field with the handful of others who had volunteered to go to Glenkirk and were about to leave. From the looks of it, she had stumbled onto what was turning into quite the argument between Connor and Brid.
“Ye cannae go back! Ye just left. They will hang ye if ye are caught.”
Flora's eyes went wide at Brid's dramatic and passionate plea.
“Brid, I am nae some green warrior doing the most dangerous thing I can think of merely to make a name for myself. I ken what I am doing.”
“What are ye talking about?” Flora asked, having come close enough to see just how distressed Brid was.
“Tell her,” Brid demanded, crossing her arms over her chest angrily.
Connor sighed as he scrubbed a hand over his face, as though he was exhausted by the conversation already.
“We are trying to plan just how we will infiltrate Murray Village or Campbell Village as that tyrant calls it. We cannae simply show up, the five of us, and expect for things to go well. We need guards stationed there, some of Campbell's men, who are on our side.”
