The Highlands, Scotland 1190
Harlana Galbraith stood solemnly in the castle’s solar. She leaned on the stone wall, slightly gazing out the opened window. The sky was gray and it matched, equally, the deep, burdening sorrow of the village people, unfortunate enough to be born into Clan Galbraith, which had such a tyrant of a laird. Although, the people seemed like none could be hurt worse than them, Harlana was, and most of the time, hurt for them, to protect them.
What fool she was; being drawn into the traps of her laird before she was wed to him. Originally, Harlana was from the MacEwen Clan, born to the greedy brother of the MacEwen laird, Edward and his equally greedy wife, Kara. They had forced her to wed the Galbraith laird.
Harlana thought she loved her laird and he loved her as well, but when they wed, shortly Harlana knew what kind of man he truly was, not a kind and gentile man, but a savage, ruthless, cruel man. Fool she was indeed; a little lovesick fool.
She was fool to give her heart to any man. Harlana had vowed, soon after she discovered what kind of man he truly was, to not love another man, no matter what they seemed to be on the outside, for on the inside, they were all the same. They were all the same cruel, monstrous, merciless to the heart. And especially, were these Scottish men.
Now, this time was before the Scottish William Wallace who started a rebellion against the English king so Scotland could be free, all because of one Englishman who murdered his wife. If this was during or after the time of William Wallace, Harlana would believe in such a thing, for how could one not believe that man does not love woman and that they are all self-serving people, when this man led his people against the English because of his wife’s death?
Harlana’s uncle knew of her plight, and did all in his power to save her, for he loved her a great deal, and she him. They had the father and daughter relationship Harlana vied from her own father when she was a child. Her uncle’s will to aid her in this terrible matter brought him to his death, to be murdered in cold blood by his own brother.
After Harlana’s uncle’s death, by rite of inheritance, Edward then became laird of Clan Galbraith, for her uncle had no wife, nor any legitimate heirs, although he had plenty illegitimate ones. Also, with his death, brought Harlana no aid, and all hope for her was lost, and so she must endure it.
She did, however, have knights in her service, who sworn to her fealty long ago, when she was of the age of twelve, a year before she had wed the Galbraith laird. Now, Harlana was on the verge of turning sixteen. Harlana had more than just ordinary knights, she had the Knights Templar.
Harlana had five Templars in her service: Gregory, Charles, Robert, Richard, and John. Even they cannot help her, for they were busy rotting in the laird’s dungeons. They, the most powerful group of people alive, were outwitted by a very cunning Scot.
Harlana had endured in the laird’s evil clutches for three years, along with her three year old son, Gawaine, who was conceived soon after Clan Galbraith’s laird and Harlana had wed. She cared for Gawaine a great deal, and she feared for him more than cared for him.
Not only is it the natural fear of motherly love in the times that they lived, but it was fear from Gawaine being his father’s son. She feared for him for his father was a possessive man who was always jealous of Harlana’s affections for others who was not him. Harlana never showed any form of affection for him, she openly showed her hatred for him. This brought on even more the always present anger from her father.
Harlana did not care. Openly, in front of Edward, Harlana denounced him, Kara, her husband, and all Scottish men. Then she spat in his face. This, earned her a beating from Edward and the Galbraith laird. That happened a year past and Harlana still denounced all. She did not care. She ceased to care for anything, save for Gawaine.
Harlana’s gaze turned to Gawaine playing near the blacksmith with other unfortunate children. The blacksmith, Thomas, was trying to show the children his trade. Gawaine had been fond of the art of weaponry since he could utter a single sound. She smiled, at least she could get some form of happiness and peace from her little son.
Harlana heard familiar footsteps in the hall. They ceased and turned back. Harlana’s heart lurched toward her throat. Familiar pangs of panic, fear, anger, and sadness ran throughout her. Clan Galbraith’s laird entered the solar.
Harlana tilted her head sideways to have a look at him. He wore all black, as he always did. He had cold black eyes that pierced her soul and sent shivers down her spine. She fell even deeper in the all to familiar panic.
Only once had she seen those eyes with warmth. She had seen warmth and affection in them the days before they were wed. The warmth and affection was nothing more than a ploy. A cunningly perfectly thought out ploy to get what he wanted most, Harlana.
He was the most falsest man that had ever lived. Harlana wished with all her heart that he would pay dearly with all the wrongs he had committed by a horrible death. What Harlana didn’t know was that the Galbraith laird would pay by death soon.
She watched him slide into a chair near the hearth. She returned her gaze to Gawaine at his merry jest. Minutes passed in silence and Harlana felt his cold eyes on her.
Her panic rose to its peak. Not knowing his intent was gnawing at her. She was unable to bear it any longer and started for the door to the solar. The laird immediately stood and blocked her path. He grabbed her wrist and used his free hand to stroke her cheek. It took everything in her power to not spit in his face.
He tried to kiss her but she pushed herself away while prying at his grip. Again, she started for the door, but this time he slammed it shut. The Galbraith laird then grabbed her waist hard enough that she thought she would be rendered unconscious.
He pulled her to him and whispered in her ear, “Why do ye try to leave me, Harlana? I wish to be with ye, my beautiful wife, and that, I intend to do.” He kissed her then and sat back down where he previously sat next to the hearth, placing Harlana in his lap. His grip tightened and he kissed her again. He whispered in her ear, “Ye are mine and mine only. Dare ye not ever to forget it, wife.”
Nottinghamshire, England 1190
Robin of Loxley stood with Little John just outside the gates of Nottingham Castle. It was night and they were awaiting what news Marian, Robin’s wife in secret had. She was late that evening, and Robin and Little John could not help but wonder why.
“Where is the Lady Marian?” Little John asked anxiously.
Robin looked over at his friend. Despite his name, Little John was not so little, in fact, he was a good six feet tall. His actual name was John Little. The only reason Robin could think of for the reason he became known as Little John that the tales of Robin Hood that spread throughout England mixed his name up. The tales of him and his men greatly marveled Robin.
The former Earl of Loxley and the now outlaw replied, “I do not know John. Marian should be here soon, as she always is.” Someone then bumped into Robin. He turned and saw it was Much. “Much…”
Much’s face turned pale and his eyes grew wide. He pointed to a window. “Uh, Robin.”
Robin turned then. What he saw shocked the three of them; Guy of Gisborne ran Marian through with his sword.
The Highlands, Scotland 1190
Harlana started to panic. Gawaine had angered the Galbraith laird. He was now his most dangerous, his murderous self.
In the laird of Clan Galbraith’s mind, he was to remove the cause of his anger so everything would be fine for him and his vengeance would be had. In this moment, it was Gawaine who had angered him and so Gawaine must die.
Galbraith’s laird had gone to far this time, to set his sights on murdering his own son, Harlana’s son. Gawaine was Harlana’s only happiness in her life and her laird was plotting to take him away from her. She would not let that happen.
Harlana stormed to the Great Hall where the laird sat with one of his kin. Harlana knew full well what she was going to do. She was to in a fury to care what would happen and what would become of it. She also knew full to well what her husband was going to do, and so she must stop it.
She would not let him harm her son.
She paused near the door. She heard the laird say to his kin, “That lad will pay, Gavin, aye, he will pay and pay dearly for it.”
Harlana’s raged flamed within her anew. She must do what she is to do, and do it quick. She spied a dagger on a small table in a corner. She was so in a fury that her steps resounded throughout the room. Harlana was able to get the dagger in her hands before her laird turned to look at her.
The Galbraith laird turned to Gavin. “Will ye leave me and my wife alone?”
“Aye.” Gavin said as he rose.
“Close it , will ye?”
As soon as the door was closed, Harlana had the dagger at the laird of Clan Galbraith’s throat. “And what do ye plan to do with that?” He asked, mockingly.
“Is it not clear enough?”
“I know full well ye will not do it. Will ye, Harlana?” He tried to rise but sat back down when Harlana pressed the dagger closer to his throat. “Even if ye did, it would bring ye and Gawaine much grievances.”
“They all would be worth it. Every single last grievance,” Harlana sputtered, trying to not fall to the traps of his cunningly wrought voice. “I and Gawaine both have lived by yer cruelness long enough. I have planned this long time past. Only now I decided to act upon it since I know ye plan to murder my Gawaine.”
“Who has ever said I would do such a thing?”
“I know ye full to well for the cruel, evil man that ye are.”
He laughed. “And that lad deserves what I shall do to him, and to ye it seems.”
“Gawaine is but a child, a harmless boy of three years. I will not have ye harm him in any way, nor will I have ye take him from me as ye have taken all I had ever held dear.”
Before he could speak one word, Harlana slit his throat. “O Jesu, Jesu! What had I done?” She cried out.
What had she done?
It was dark and the only light was a small time candle outside the cell on a wooden table where two drunk Scotsmen sat playing cards. The Templars all sat on the cold stone ground, their backs pressed hard against the equally cold stone wall. Fat mice nibbled at their bare feet, feasting on their scaley flesh.
Charles pulled his knees tight to his chest and buried his head in his hands. Though the five knights were disgraced and in such disarray, they thought nothing of themselves. All their thoughts were centered on their mistress and her son. They were all sore ashamed and wroth that they could do nothing to help their lady.
A young serving wench of around fourteen came down the spiral staircase with a plate of five slices of rotted bread and cheese. The Scot on the right pulled the girl onto his lap. “Gavin should be thanked he sent down a beautiful lass to us.” He said. The girl giggled. The knights wrinkled their noses in disgust that a man would act so crudely to a lady of any stature.
The other walked to the cell and the food into it. The Templars didn’t even bother picking it up to eat. They surrendered the rotting food to the fat mice.
Suddenly, they heard a woman screaming and angry men. The Templars closed their eyes as to what is happening to their lady. The worry stricken knights rose to their feet.
Gregory screamed at the silent men and girls. “How can you bastards let such vile things happen to a woman, your own lady no less! You will rot in hell for all eternity for your fucking crimes against the Lord!”
All three turned stark white as if snow covered their faces.
