Chapter Two

Lamorna had said little when she’d returned, and was quietly thankful that her mother, Reena, had not told her father that she’d run off on her own. Yet as the family sat together for their evening meal, Lamorna found Logan unnaturally quiet even though she could feel his dark gaze on her each time she got up. She only now realised why some people were unnerved by his serious countenance.

With everything tidied away, Lamorna feigned tiredness and disappeared into her room. There was only space enough for a small bed with an equally small chest at the foot of it for her few belongings. The tiny window barely let any light in during the day and barely let any air in either.

Having pulled her dress off over her head, she remained in her undergarment. She snatched at her braid, grimacing, and shook her hair loose before snuffing out the candle. Perched on the edge of her bed, she tilted her head back, drumming her fingers on her knees.

Hoping that enough time had passed that her parents would believe her to be asleep, she crept forward and prised the door open. Kneeling, she peered out and was rewarded with a clear view of them for they were both sat at the table.

“Enough is enough,” she heard her father say.

Reena sat forward, clasping his hand in hers. “Please don’t say such things. If ever our lords find out–”

“I know it will never change but sometimes... sometimes I wish we could be totally free.”

Lamorna frowned, not understanding Logan’s words. As far as she knew, they were not tied to anyone. Yes, they worked the fields for the castle lords, but the villagers shared in the harvest as well, and their lives were their own.

“This never-ending expectation that hangs over us,” said Logan, “nailing us to the land, robbing us of any chance of moving elsewhere.”

“Why would we leave? We have lived here all our lives, as our parents before us. Our friends are here. Where would we go?”

“There must be somewhere better than this, some place where people like us are free to live our lives as our ancestors did. Where we’re not forced to live a lie, every day of our lives–”

“Hush, Logan, please. It frightens me when you speak like this.”

“Aherin and me,” said Logan, referring to his best friend. “We were thinking, once the harvest is in maybe, maybe we could travel, maybe find a place–”

“No!”

Lamorna flinched at the fear in her mother’s voice.

“Why not? Where is the harm?”

“You-you will anger our lords. When you aren’t here for the ploughing and the–”

“Always there is something that needs to be done. Never are we allowed any time for us.”

Lamorna bit her lip, twisting a lock of hair around her finger; she’d never heard Logan talk like this before – he sounded so frustrated, so powerless.

“What of... what of the baby? You must be here when the baby comes.”

Logan turned his head slightly, away from Reena. “The baby will be here before the harvest...” His voice faded and they sat in silence.

By now, Lamorna was chewing on her hair, her hand pressed against her stomach to quell the churning inside. Carefully shutting her door, she heard her name mentioned and froze.

“What of Lamorna?” said Reena. “Her blood has not flowed yet, but this summer will be her fourteenth.”

Logan sat back, rubbed his chin. “She is changing... I am her father, and even I have begun to notice that she is no longer a child.”

Hunching over, Lamorna hugged herself, glad that the darkness hid her as she remembered the way the highborn lord’s gaze had crawled over her that afternoon.

“You are right. I must be here and do what I can.”

“What do you mean?” Reena’s voice was so soft, Lamorna was tempted to open the door wider.

Logan did not answer straight away. “Those in the castle, they eye our daughters too openly... Remember what happened to widow Lura’s girl? You know they see it as their right, to carry away anything for their benefit, be it animal, crop... our daughters. They’ll notice Lamorna soon. She isn’t always with her friends; she still spends too much time alone, out of the village. If those in the castle want her, we can’t stop them. But if they touch her I swear I will–”

“Logan...” Reena’s voice caught as a sob escaped her.

Lamorna’s heart was beating fast as she tightened her grip on the door handle; the memory of the woman’s words from earlier – about men amusing themselves with young girls – caused an unknown fear to spread icy fingers over her heart.

“There is only one way to keep her safe. Talk to Lulie. I’m sure the twins are old enough now to go with her. Ask her if she can bring my midday meal along with Aherin’s; Lamorna can stay here with you.”

“But the boys are such a handful–”

“That is not my concern.” He bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me. Do not mistake my worry for anger. They don’t commonly take married women. Maybe, I might travel after that,” he said softly, as if to himself. He raised his eyes to meet Reena’s confused look. “When her blood flow starts, after her coming-of-age ceremony, we will see her married to Daroth.”

Anger replaced Lamorna’s horror. She strode out of her room. “You promised!”

Her parents exclaimed, clearly startled by her sudden appearance.

“You said I could wait until I was ready.”

“Lamorna...” Logan reached out towards her.

Fists clenched at her side, she stopped, face crumpled in rage. “It’s not fair. I don’t want to get married. You want to send me away so you can leave–”

“Enough!” Logan stood, knocking his chair over.

Lamorna recoiled as if she’d been physically struck; she had never experienced her father’s raw anger.

“I will not be spoken to in that manner in my own house. You will start to act your age and behave in a proper manner. And you will do as you are told.”

“Mam.” She reached out, almost childlike, to Reena who looked away.

“You need not look to your mother; she will follow my decision.”

“But you can’t make me...” Her attempt at defiance failed.

“I will do whatever I have to, my girl, to ensure your safety. It’s up to you to make this pleasant or not.”

She shook with anger and frustration. “I hate you!” she cried before fleeing to her room in a storm of tears.