Chapter 13

13

E lvira took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. It had been a day since her rescue, and much had been on her mind. Mostly, these thoughts consisted of Rory. Her opinion of him had changed dramatically, and she wished to thank him for saving her. Thus, she had brought to the forge a basket of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit from the tavern. At first, there was no answer. Elvira knocked again, and then pressed her head to the door. She heard hammering sounds, and assumed that Rory had been unable to hear her. The door opened when she tested it, and she entered.

She closed the door behind her and then turned to see Rory at the forge, his back to her. Elvira's throat tightened as she had not expected to see him like this. He wore no shirt, his blonde hair tousled. The sinews and knotted muscles of his back were exposed, his body thick and powerful, packed with strength. This was not the strength of a warrior forged in combat, but the hard strength of a man who had poured himself into his craft for years and years. Broad shoulders led to long arms with thick biceps. When Rory brought his hammer up, Elvira's gaze was caught by the rounded muscle, swelling with strength, and she became light-headed. It seemed as though it was getting hotter in the forge with every passing moment. Her throat felt dry and her lips parted. Rory's body was slick with sweat, glistening in the light of the forge. All the hard angles were well-defined, as though someone had taken care to craft this man, leaving nothing of excess on his body at all.

Elvira was not sure how long she remained standing there. She seemed lost in a trance, until a cat ran towards her and started to slide between her legs, mewing loudly. Elvira expressed her surprise in a gasp, as she had not noticed any movement, for her focus had been on Rory. She bent down to stroke the cat, but her gasp had been heard by Rory, who turned, displaying his wide chest. Curled hair dripped with sweat and his flat stomach rippled with strength. Elvira felt her knees growing weak at the sight, so she averted her gaze to protect herself.

"Oh, Elvira, I dinnae notice ye there," Rory said.

"I knocked, but there was nae response."

"Ah, sorry about that. Sometimes when I get tae hammering I cannae hear anything else. It's easy tae shut the world out. Can I help ye? Is everything well at the tavern? There hae nae been any suspicious men hanging about, hae there?" concern flashed upon Rory's face, the boyish features giving way to a harder glare.

Elvira shook her head and rose, moving towards a table. The cat followed her and leaped up on the table, nuzzling Elvira's hand.

"Nae, naething like that. I just wanted tae bring ye a gift of gratitude for what ye did."

"Oh, ye dinnae hae tae dae that," Rory came towards her, the light illuminating more of his body. She felt like a voyeur as she snuck a glance, her gaze drifting over his shoulders and along his chest, wrapping around his waist and moving up to his back again. Every part of him dripped with strength. He radiated this masculine charisma that intoxicated her. She might as well have drunk a barrel of wine.

"Yes, I did. Ye put yeself in danger for me. Ye were wounded because of it," her gaze fell to the wound upon his bicep. It was no longer bleeding, but it was clear where the skin had been torn. Elvira's hand twitched, but she stopped herself before she foolishly touched his flesh, becoming uncertain about where the boundaries lay between them. "I owe ye my life," she dipped her head out of respect.

"Ye dinnae owe me anything, Elvira. I could nae stand by while ye were in danger. I hae done enough standing by recently," he spoke in a self-deprecating tone. Elvira looked up. Rory inspected his wound and only then seemed to notice that he was shirtless. He grabbed a garment that had been draped over a chair and pulled it around his shoulders, fastening it with a clasp to cover most of his body.

"Aye, well, I'm glad ye hae helped and please, dinnae turn this gift away. It's nae much, but I thought ye would appreciate it," Elvira nudged the basket towards him and opened it. The scent of salted meat and cheese filled the room. Rory's face lit up with delight as he rummaged through the basket.

"This is a feast!" he exclaimed.

Elvira suppressed a giggle. "I'm glad ye like it," she said, stroking the cat under the chin. It was purring away.

"Ginger seems tae like ye," Rory nodded.

"Most animals dae. It is a gift, I suppose," she said.

Rory pursed his lips and the happiness fell from his face. He exhaled deeply and turned to her. "Ginger was disappointed when I turned ye and yer family away. I am sorry for daeing that. It was wrong of me. I knew it was wrong at the time, but I just thought—" he sighed again. "Well, I suppose I was nae thinking properly. I hope ye can accept my apology, although I dinnae hae a gift like this tae offer ye. The only thing I hae is, well… is this," he spread his arms around the forge. "Would ye perhaps like a tour?"

Elvira inclined her head. "That would be lovely," she replied. Rory beamed and first took her to the forge, where he showed her his hammer. He offered it to her, and when she took it into her hands, her arms almost fell to the floor because of the weight. She strained to hold it aloft. "How dae ye use this hour after hour, day after day?" she asked.

"Ye get used tae it," Rory shrugged as though it was no grand feat at all, but she was suitably impressed. He then showed her the furnace and the anvil, as well as some of the things he had been working on. While Elvira was not necessarily attuned to the ways of the blacksmith, she had an instinctive appreciation for beauty, and the things Rory made certainly were beautiful. They showed skilled craftsmanship, and it was easy to see why he was in such high demand.

Rory took her through the back, showing her the kitchen and the storerooms. It seemed far bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. When she commented on this, Rory looked sheepish.

"I know. Which makes it even more hard-hearted of me tae turn ye away. There is plenty of room here and, well, I am sorry again."

"I dinnae mean tae stab at ye, Rory. I just meant it's a lot of space for one man. Dinnae ye get lonely here?"

"I hae Ginger," he replied. "And I suppose I hae gotten used tae it over the years. I always assumed that Ian and Lucy would return someday. It is nae the same without them being here," he replied.

"Why did Ian leave?" Elvira asked, emotion rising in her voice as she spoke about her old friend.

"That brings us tae the last part of the tour," Rory said as he led her down to the basement. "Ian had an illegal distillery here. In secret. The Laird and his advisor decided that there should be a ban on alcohol, which people felt tae be unfair. Ian took it upon himself tae distill his own whiskey. We used tae smuggle it through the village."

Elvira's eyes widened. "Ye smuggled whiskey? But I thought ye dinnae like tae get in trouble."

"I dinnae," Rory folded his arms across his chest and scowled. "But I was younger then, and Ian can be very persuasive when he wants tae."

Elvira chuckled. "I remember that," she thought back to when Ian had dared her to jump into streams and climb high trees, forcing her to confront and defeat her fears. "What happened after that? Did he get caught?"

"In a way," Rory led her back up to the table, where Ginger was nosing at the basket. Rory and Elvira sat at the table. He opened the basket and started sharing out the food, which Elvira had not expected. She had brought all of this for him, after all, yet he did not think twice about sharing it with her, and Ginger. Rory continued with the story.

"Glennrock, the Laird's advisor, had arranged for his daughter tae be married tae someone she dinnae want tae be married tae. Sae she escaped and ended up hiding in our basement. Ian feared that eventually the distillery would be discovered, and he certainly dinnae want the attention of Glennrock, but Lucy begged him tae stay, and I suppose I hae my part tae play in that as well. We hid her here, until things became tae dangerous. Eventually, they thought it was better tae leave. They wanted tae find happiness elsewhere. I never thought he would leave this forge. It was all he hae, well, until Lucy came along," a feeling of wistfulness crept into Rory's voice.

"And how is he now?" Elvira said before placing a creamy bit of cheese into her mouth, letting the flavor linger upon her tongue before she chewed.

"Oh, he's fine. I get letters from him and Lucy regularly. They settled in a small village and they both made themselves useful, I think it's what they needed. I would love tae see them again, but I can understand why they might think it's a wee bit dangerous. If Glennrock should see Lucy again, I dinnae like tae think what might happen. I'm sure Ian will be happy tae hear that ye came looking for him."

Elvira was glad that Rory no longer cast suspicion on her story. There was a sense of mystery about him, though. He was clearly capable of great kindness, yet something had happened to make him guarded. Elvira wanted to know what this was.

"Rory, if ye dinnae mind me saying, there is something about ye that dinnae quite make sense."

"Oh?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. Ginger was mewing for more meat, and Rory indulged her.

"It's just that ye helped Ian smuggle whiskey and harbor Glennrock's daughter, yet when it came tae helping me, ye acted as though I was poison. Ye were sae scared. Did something happen tae ye when ye were young? Were ye punished for something?"

"Almost," he smirked. "The truth is that my sister and I never hae anyone tae rely on. We were shunned by the world, and had tae rely on our own wits. We came up with tricks tae steal food and money just sae that we could survive, at least until my sister got married. It was nae an easy life. I hated living in fear and looking over my shoulder, always wondering if some guard was gaeing tae drag me away. Frankly, I dinnae understand how we managed tae stay free from capture. Anyway, I wanted tae leave all that behind and find an honest craft. I came tae this village because I knew of Ian's reputation, and I wanted tae learn from him. When he told me about the distillery, I thought about leaving, but I knew I could learn sae much more from him. He's the best blacksmith around, sae I did it even though I hated it. It seemed as though I could nae escape trouble, sae after he left I vowed that I would never put myself in that position again. I wanted tae live a simple life, but I may hae taken it tae an extreme. Sometimes ye cannae avoid a wee bit of trouble, especially when people are in danger."

His tone grew somber, as did his expression. As he revealed this bit of his past, everything fell into place. Elvira's heart went out to him, and she felt ashamed of accusing him of being ignorant. The truth was that he did know what it was like to be treated as an outsider. He could hardly be blamed for wanting to avoid that again, yet still, he had plunged himself back into this way of life for her sake. Once again, she was overwhelmed with gratitude.

After they had eaten, Elvira invited him for a walk through the forest for some fresh air. Rory accepted this invitation gladly. They exited the forge and headed towards the forest, leaving the village behind and enveloped by a verdant world that was lush and fertile. The air was sweet, the ground soft below their feet, and the shadows of the trees stretched long around them. It was a place filled with magic. Sometimes, the most powerful magic was that which occurred between two people.

Rory pulled back a thorny branch so that Elvira could pass. It swung back as he let it go, but moved more sharply than he anticipated. He moved quickly to avoid it, but in his haste he got his ankle caught in a divot and lunged forward. Elvira reacted quickly, catching his arm and managing to steady him. She placed her hand around his back to support him, her fingers pressing against the tight muscles. He laughed and shook his ankle to make sure that it was undamaged, while still holding her hand. It was only then that he realized what was happening, and he relinquished his grip.

"I suppose now I am gaeing tae hae tae bring ye a basket of food tae thank ye for saving my life," he said with an easy smile.

Elvira laughed, secretly lamenting the emptiness of her palm. "I will be happy with some flowers," she said, although only meant it in jest.

However, when Rory spied a vivid spot of color, he rushed over and plucked a small bouquet of flowers for Elvira, bringing them back and making an exaggerated bow. "For ye, my lady," he said.

Elvira continued to laugh and brought them to her nose, breathing in the sweet scent. "These are lovely," she said. She took one flower and wrapped the stem around locks of her hair. The bright petals nestled against her dark strands. She did the same with a few more. "Is this suitable?"

"It looks lovely," Rory said. There was an undercurrent of tension to his voice that was unmistakable. Elvira rolled her lower lip between her teeth and stepped towards him, closing the distance between them.

"Perhaps ye should try one," she said, taking the last flower and reaching up to the top of his head. Rory dipped his head, and she slid the flower behind his ear. As she did so, her fingers grazed his soft hair, running through the tousled locks. They dropped and rested against his cheeks, and then he looked up. His green gaze so intense, it left her breathless. Her heart thumped and tension crackled and tingled all over her body. She found that she did not wish to take her hands away from him at all. Instead, she felt compelled to share something intimate with him, but just as her eyelids were beginning to flutter shut, and they were being drawn together by the cosmic strands of fate, they heard groans and mutters.

Rory immediately took a defensive stance and placed himself in front of Elvira, moving her behind him as he turned towards the source of the noise.

"Be quiet," he warned, for he had not brought a weapon with him. The flower fell from behind his ear, nestling forlornly on the ground. In his haste to move, he trampled upon the leaves with his foot. Emerging from a thicket was a shambling group of farmers, each of them injured. They looked beleaguered and, when Rory and Elvira realized there was nothing to fear from these people, they rushed towards the farmers.

"What happened?" Elvira asked, noticing the limps, the welts, the bruises, and the blood.

"Our farms were attacked. We were promised our lands would be safe. Where are the guards? Where are the warriors? Why are we nae being defended?" one of the farmers moaned.

Neither Rory nor Elvira had an answer for them. They could only offer them solace and hope. As the farmers passed, Elvira noticed some of them weeping for all they had lost. She could tell that it was not only the land that had suffered, but the people they loved as well. She glanced towards Rory. The serenity of their stroll had been broken, and this served as a grim reminder that Laird McKovac was not going to sit by idly and wait for the world to come to him.

Rory and Elvira led the wounded farmers back to the village, settling them in Torrin's tavern. Torrin had a grim look on his face. Elvira, Isla, and Mirella helped tend to the farmers.

"This is nae good," Torrin said, shaking his head.

"We should send word tae the keep," Rory suggested.

"Aye, even though it will nae dae any good," Torrin replied. Elvira came to stand beside them.

"They still need tae know what happened. But we should call a meeting with the defenders as well, taenight. Laird McKovac is getting closer, and we cannot allow this attack tae happen without response."

There was a terse edge to his voice. Elvira stood beside him, ready to remain there, eager to help. Torrin had dismissed her insight before, but she sensed that Rory would not make the same mistake.