Surviving Scotland

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Authors: Kristin Vayden
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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made a show of swallowing the food almost whole. He rewarded my grimace with an open mouth, proving he had done it.
    “Do ye want me ta pat ye on the back?” I asked with complete sarcasm.
    “Aye, I think it’s stuck.” Ioan began to cough and I slammed my fist into his back, and he groaned.
    “Ye’ve made it worse.”
    “‘Tis your own fault, ye lout.” My concern grew as his coughing became more violent. “What should I do?” I asked, beginning to panic.
    The coughing turned into laughter and Ioan began to shake with his mirth. I had been fooled. The anger built inside of me, and I elbowed him in the ribs, hard.
    “Ach, lass, donna do that. ‘Tis rude to hurt others when they’re chokin’ ta death.”
    “Ye weren’t chokin’. Ye were playin’ me fer the fool! Ta think I was actually concerned about ye!” I pushed his shoulder as I spoke. I glanced around, curious if we had drawn attention by our antics. No one was even looking our direction. The hall buzzed with noise, and I was thankful.
    “Ach, lass, donna take it so personal. ‘Twas just a bit o’ fun.”
    “We’ll see… you’ll be payin’ dearly for that bit o ’ fun , Ioan. Just you wait.”
    “I’m truly set a fright already.” Ioan held his hands to his chest and shook, offering me a frightened look before he grinned at me, patted my head, and continued eating.
    I glared at him, silently shooting daggers from my eyes, but he carried on with his meal without a care. Reluctantly, I picked up a piece of meat and brought it to my lips. I was hungry. The food was hearty and tasted wonderful, so I quickly finished my plate.
    “That wa’n’t so bad now, was it?” Ioan nudged me, causing me to spill my drink over my lap.
    “I thank ye, Ioan. Fer a moment I was thinkin’ I wanted ta drink that water rather than wear it,” I commented sarcastically.
    “Aye, ‘twas my gentle reminder that ye need to be takin’ a bath… ye kinda smell.” He leaned forward and wrinkled his nose, sniffing.
    “If’n ye smell somethin’, Ioan, donna look any farther than yerself. I’ve been around fresher pigs.” I spoke softly in efforts to try and control my temper.
    “I’d believe ye, lass, but ye canna remember that, can ye?” With a wink he patted me on the head and walked away, whistling.
    ****
    It was the oddest sensation. To be somewhere and know that it should be familiar, yet feel like a stranger. Though I was growing accustomed to life at the castle, a nagging emotion pricked my mind and told me I was still missing something crucial. Over the next few days I continued to have a few flashes of memory here and there, but they always amounted to the same feeling of confusion.
    A week passed with each day suffocating me, as I was still confined to the castle. Morag tried to give me projects such as embroidery or cleaning, but I longed for the outdoors. Finally, I approached my uncle, prepared to beg for the slightest measure of freedom. But Ioan intercepted my approach and with a grin, invited me on a walk to the nearby loch. My uncle stood behind him and nodded solemnly, giving me an expression that reminded me to be on guard. I nodded and followed Ioan out into the blessed sunshine.
    “So, do ye want ta go huntin’ for neeps an’ tatties tonight?” I purposefully asked, as Ioan took a deep drink of water from a clear stream that fed the loch. Just as I had hoped, he choked and sputtered on the liquid and coughed.
    “Ye deserve that.”
    He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and gave me an unrepentant grin as he coughed some more.
    “Did ye really think I’d believe ye?” I asked indigently.
    “Lass, ye did believe me. Who did ye ask?” He cleared his throat then crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree, waiting for my response.
    “‘Tis none o’ yer business.”
    “Ahh, so ye did ask… proves my point.”
    “How so?” I crossed my arms as well.
    “If ye didn’t believe me, why would ye have asked?” Ioan’s

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