Prologue
I grew up in a small
village in the north of Scotland. The fields often misty and skies dark, and
broody. Rain being the weather we most often get, but I wouldn’t change any of
it for the world. I love my country, I love our people, and I love Scotland. I
am Scottish and proud, and very much my father’s daughter. I am Finn McBride,
and my father always taught me to stand for what I believe in. He even taught
me how to fight as I grew up, even though women aren’t supposed to fight. It
was our secret, mine and my fathers. A lot of us girls up here in Moray lost
our fathers to battle, I being one of them. There is not a day that goes by
that I don’t miss my father; Arthur McBride was the bravest man I ever knew,
and he always will be.
Chapter One: The Battle of Loch Norde
In the year of our
lord 1310 warriors of Scotland were the first in the lands of Great Britain to
be attacked by the tyrant, King Andrews of Ireland. Scotland is made up of
strong people, but we met on the battle field at Loch Norde hugely outnumbered
by the Irish, and we nearly lost our freedom in the great battle. When the
English and the Welsh finally arrived to help us fight, we had already lost
many of our men, my farther being one of them. We have never forgotten nor
forgiven King Andrews for his hatred, and persistent hunger for power. Many
Scots are even bitter towards the English and Welsh for arriving so late in
their aide, but I am not. I did not want my father to die, but I know that he
died fighting for a free Scotland, he died for what he believed in, and that I
cannot blame the English or Welsh for, but I do, and I can blame King Andrews
and the Irish for invading our lands, and starting a war in the attempt to gain
power over all of Great Britain.
It is now 1315, five
years have passed, and I still miss my father as much as if it happened
yesterday. My mother, Sheila McBride hasn’t been the same since we lost my
father either. She used to be so full of life, always happy and smiling. Now
it’s rare I see a smile come across my mother’s face, she is still beautiful
though; her dark hair always falling at her waist, sometimes pulled back into a
braid. I have my father’s hair, wild and curly, but my mother’s deep green
eyes. Freckles splayed across my face, and a deep dimple in my right cheek,
also come from my father. My mother often says “it’s so very hard to look at
you Finn, I see so much of your father in you” as a wrinkle forms in her
forehead and she frowns.
Yesterday was my
birthday, it marked my twentieth year in this world. Mother says I ought to
marry soon, as most women my age married a few years ago and have children. She
does not understand why I seem to have so little interest in men, especially
with Alfred being so keen on me. It’s not that I have no interest in Alfred,
he’s a lovely man, and I do care for him, but I don’t feel as though I’m in any
sort of rush to be with someone and to start a family of my own. I don’t
understand why that seems to be such an issue, but then again there are only a
few of us still unmarried at the age of twenty. I am just glad that my friends
still stand by my side, unmarried, and happy with their choice as well.
