Chapter Five

Tamsin

Tamsin could no longer hide the fact that she was conscious. As soon as Odart lifted her out of the birlinn, she opened her eyes and whispered, "Please do not do this, Odart. I'll do whatever you wish. I just need to see my daughter."

Odart set her onto the rock, the cool water lapping over her legs on the lower end, causing her breath to hitch. It wasn't just cool, it was cold.

How long could she survive in the cold water? It was summer, but the water hadn't heated to a bearable temperature yet.

"You will send another boat for me, Odart?" she whispered. "Please?"

Raghnall's voice bellowed his opinion for all to hear. "I knew you were lying, wife. You always lie. You were awake all along. I knew it." He jumped off the boat and raced over to her, tugging her hair to lift her head from the rock before delivering two more blows, one to her face and the other to her midsection. "Next time, you will not burn my supper."

She recoiled from the blows, swallowing the bile that climbed up her throat. If she vomited on him, he would probably kill her. "Please, Raghnall. I'll be more careful."

"You are a worthless cow, Tamsin. You gave me a daughter when I demanded a son. And I've instructed you to carry again, with a lad this time, yet you are not strong enough to keep the bairn inside you. Burning the stew was the last straw. I'll not allow you to insult me any longer. You will stay here until I decide to return for you. See if I think you deserve another chance. Until then, think on how you can make up for all the errors you've done against me."

Raghnall climbed into the boat after tossing her back onto the rock, her elbow now bleeding from the scrapes across the rough surface. She wiped her hand across her mouth, not surprised to see blood there as well. How was she to get out of this mess?

How she wished her sire had never married her to this evil man. Were all men as vile as Raghnall?

As soon as he stepped onto the ship, his head jerked toward land as if seeing something for the first time. She had no idea what it was, but it upset him because he said something to Odart she couldn't understand and they shoved off, telling the oarsmen to go faster.

Had they seen someone on the coastline observing their evil deed?

"Hurry," her husband said to Odart. "Get the hell out of here."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know. Someone from Mull. I do not wish to be associated with this deed." Her husband dropped into the bottom of the ship as the oarsmen picked up speed, going back in the direction they had come.

Odart replied, "Then keep down. No one would know the oarsmen. Only you." He peered over his shoulder, scanning the area for any other fishing boats on the water.

Any witnesses. Tamsin knew Odart had a conscience, unlike her husband.

Odart continued to bark out orders, but Tamsin couldn't hear him. Perhaps it was because the rushing in her ears had become a loud intrusion that could not be ignored, borne from the sad truth that if high tide came quickly, her destiny could not be changed.

Her death would be due to drowning. The day had finally come when she regretted not learning how to swim.

But she had to do what she could to save herself. She bit her lip to keep from calling out as she pushed into a sitting position, stopping every few seconds to draw a deep breath to give her the strength to ignore the pain and continue.

Once she was upright, the water now reaching her waist, she looked toward shore, pleased to see a boat headed straight for her, ignoring her husband's ship that was nearly out of sight now. She waved to let them know she was still here, that she needed their help.

Eventually, she would have to stand or the water would cover her face, so she did what she could to move into a vertical position. But each time she was nearly there, her foot slipped out from under her and she fell back, flailing from the fear of drowning.

She managed to get herself back up three times and opted to settle on her knees instead of trying to stand. It was enough to keep her head well above water and she could see the boat as it approached.

How had she reached this point in her life? Her mind traveled to the kinder days when she lived in a small cottage with her sister, her mother, and her father. Most of her time had been spent assisting her mother sewing and cooking while her sire left to hunt for the day. She'd loved every minute of the occasions when she and her sister had spent all day with the loving woman. She and Meg had learned how to cook, how to sew, and how to care for plants.

But the times with her father were not fond memories. An unhappy person by nature, she and her sister dreaded when her father would come home without any food, thus giving his hands and fists free range to swing and land on anything within his reach.

Tamsin preferred to go outside, even in the cold.

She'd thought married life would be an improvement, but she'd been wrong.

It seems the female lot in life was to serve as a way for men to deal with their anger and disappointment. They were to wait on them night and day, give in to all their needs, and then be there for them to take out their frustrations. Why did men hit so hard?

She hadn't learned how to handle her own frustration except to ignore it and pretend it didn't exist.

So, when she slipped and fell again, her head going completely underwater, she sputtered and fought to keep her head high enough so she could keep an eye on the vessel that could save her.

Unfortunately, the worst thing possible happened next. The vessel turned around and headed back to the Isle of Mull.

"Nay!" she cried out, knowing whatever she said didn't matter. It hadn't mattered to her father and now it didn't matter to her husband. She was doomed and it was time to accept it quietly. Perhaps heaven would be a better place for her.