“I will and I’m sure after everyone gets to know her they’ll see what a good and gentle woman she is,” Oria reassured her.
“I must go,” Purity said.
You didn’t tell me, how is King?” Oria asked, curious about the cat that had stolen Purity’s heart and wanting to linger a bit longer with her friend.
Purity laughed lightly. “His name is most appropriate since he rules all the other animals and humans as well. Take care, Oria. I do miss you.”
“And I you, my friend, and I will send word when Arran returns home.”
“It matters little. He can do nothing to help me.”
Oria watched, tears stinging her eyes, as Purity swiftly disappeared deeper into the woods. She had rejoiced when she had discovered that Purity had survived, though it had been a full year before she had managed to get in touch with Oria. It was a short, wiry fellow who had appeared too far into his cups to even stand who had delivered the first message from her, garbled as it was. She barely understood it, though later realized it was in case anyone heard, they’d make no sense of it. It took another year after that for Oria to finally meet with Purity in the woods, more often near Learmonth since none of the warriors paid her much mind there.
It had been through Purity that Oria had found out that Raven had survived, though to keep her safe, Oria and Purity knew only that she was alive. Nothing more was told to them for their own safety.
Oria continued to pray as she had from when it had all started that everyone would one day be reunited and all would be healed. Her familiar prayer fell softly from her lips as she walked home through the woods.
“I’ll talk with you both,” Royden ordered when he reached Penn and Wilfred talking outside of the cottage that was now home to Lona and Wilfred.
He couldn’t help but think of the two men as the enemy, especially when he saw them together like this talking or more whispering, their heads bent close. This is what he feared if more of their kind joined the clan. If they remained loyal to whoever they once had pledged allegiance to, then how could he ever trust them to defend the Clan MacKinnon.
Royden had passed Angus just before reaching the two men and he saw that Angus had followed him and stood to the side, his presence letting Royden know he was there if needed. That was clan loyalty, being there to help without being asked.
“What can we do for you, sir?” Penn asked.
It wasn’t lost on Royden that Wilfred kept to Penn’s side, but more behind him as if Penn was a shield that protected him.
“You both tell me you love your wives and want to stay here and make this your home.”
Both men nodded, each voicing the same, “Aye. Aye.”
“Had you wanted that before you met your wives and fell in love?” Royden asked and kept a firm eye on them both, waiting to catch the slightest reaction that could contradict their responses.
Wilfred surprised Royden by speaking up first.
“I ached for a more peaceful life before I met Lona. Falling in love with her made me want it even more.”
“I was glad to be left here. Constant battle wears on you, tormenting your dreams, filling your head with godless thoughts until you don’t know who you are,” Penn said.
“Aye,” Angus agreed, walking over and joining the discussion. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to sleep at night, not wanting to be held captive by my dreams.”
To hear others say what Royden himself felt made him realize how many more must feel the same. Five years had taken a toll on him, leaving him scarred in so many ways and thinking that some of those scars would never heal. But being home now made him think it just might be possible to heal those scars he had believed permanent.
“Do you think there are others who feel as you do?” Royden asked.
Penn nodded right away. “I talked to many a warrior who wished an end to the battles.”
“Penn’s right,” Wilfred said. “Many told me I was lucky to be an arrow maker and away from the battlefield.”
“Then there are those men who live to battle. They can’t get enough of it. It’s like a hunger that can’t be satisfied,” Penn said. “Couple them with the greed of powerful men and wars will never end.”
“How do I reach these men who no longer wish to battle so I may offer them a home—a family?” Royden asked.
Penn and Wilfred exchanged a quick glance of surprise and possibly a hint of suspicion.
Royden crossed his arms over his chest and waited for one to answer.
“The men owe him,” Penn explained. “I don’t believe he’d let them go.”