Scotland- 804 AD

Flaming arrows rained down on them as if all the stars were falling from the sky. The thatched roofs ignited the moment they struck. With each passing second, the screaming grew louder as panic took hold. People fled in every direction, calling out to their loved ones.

Amidst the chaos, Tualla and Aedan locked eyes briefly, expressing everything left unsaid. “Hurry,” Tualla screamed and he wasted no time in pushing his way through the masses. 

When Tualla turned back to the fire, the children were gone. Cold worked its way through her veins, chilling her to the core. They couldn’t have gone far.

She called out their names, choking on the air, thick with smoke and ash. 

She saw them, huddled together behind a cart and rushed over. “Are you alright?”

They clung to her as she checked them over, their bodies shaking with fear.

“Tualla,” Elspeth said, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” Tualla brushed her cheek and looked her straight in the eye with all the determination she could muster. “I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Right now, I need you to be brave for me, okay?”

She took hold of both their hands, but a loud crash behind her caused Beathan to retreat back to the safety of the cart. 

“Come on, Beathan,” Tualla urged, but the little boy wouldn’t budge.

His bottom lip began to tremble and he broke down in tears. “I want Mumma.”

“Mumma’s waiting for us,” she told him in her softest voice. “But we need to move, it’s not safe here.”

Beathan’s sobs turned to wails and Tualla didn’t know how to console him. With the sound of clashing metal growing nearer, they didn’t have much time, so Tualla scooped him into her arms.    

Holding onto Elspeth, they made a move as Tualla did her best to shield them from the injured people writhing in agony and the many lifeless bodies littering the ground. 

Away from the carnage, Tualla tried to devise an escape plan. Judging from the direction of the initial attack, the main gates weren’t an option. They would have to climb over the palisade.

Their home wasn't too much further and although it wouldn't be safe for long, she could at least gather some weapons and have a better shot at protecting them.

Under Beathan's weight, her arms soon grew heavy and when he’d settled, she placed him down to walk the rest of the way. 

She heard men’s voices nearby. 

Pulling the children behind a building and making a shushing motion, she listened out, hoping she could figure out whether they were friend or foe. They were moving closer, their laughter and casual pace indicated the latter. 

“Hey, let’s play a game,” Tualla said, kneeling in front of her cousins, keeping her voice light and exciting. “I want to see who can race home first and when you get there, I want you to find my weapons. Can you do that for me?”

Although nervous, both children nodded.

“Whatever you see or hear, just keep running. I’ll be right behind you, okay? But stay there until I come get you.”

When they nodded again, Tualla told them to run, watching their little legs carry them away. Double checking she had her scian with her, she searched outside the hut for anything she could use as a weapon. Most of the tools were too small to inflict any real damage, but the spade or rake could be useful. She settled for the rake and hid behind the hut, gripping onto the tool with both hands. 

With the prongs facing out, her fingers tightened as the footsteps approached. Two of them, she guessed.

Her timing had to be right. She waited until they were in striking distance before making her move.

Leaping out, she struck one across the face, knocking him to the ground, the rake's prongs buried deep in his flesh. Although taken by surprise, the other man soon collected himself and drew his sword. Defenceless, Tualla tugged at the rake. Two other lives depended on her. She couldn’t afford to lose.

With a final heave, she managed to free the rake and block the sword crashing down on her. She pushed back, forcing him to stumble, but he quickly regained his footing and came at her again. 

She dodged. Watching his every move, she counteracted when he lunged. She sidestepped, hitting him across the back. 

A piercing scream belonging to Elspeth caused Tualla to lose focus. 

A sudden blow to the head slammed her to the ground. Before she could get back up, the man grabbed a handful of her hair. He jerked her head up, preparing to deliver the final blow. 

But Tualla refused to die when Elspeth needed her. 

Biting through the pain, she grabbed her scian and thrust it into his groin. 

Yowling in pain, he released Tualla, clutching his wound as he cursed at her. Knowing he would soon bleed out, she didn’t give him another thought as she picked up his dropped sword. Though her head injury slowed her down, Tualla raced towards Elspeth’s scream, praying to the gods she'd make it in time.

She saw them. 

Elspeth stood holding Tualla’s sword with Beathan tucked behind her. A man twice her size loomed over her, laughing at her attempts to fend him off. 

“Stay away from them,” Tualla screamed, hoping to divert his attention.

But she was too far away to pose an immediate threat. In two strides, he closed the gap between him and Elspeth. Time seemed to slow as the man raised his sword. 

“No!” Even though she was too late, Tualla pushed herself forward with everything she had. The blade came down and Elspeth’s head came clean off.

Tualla held back her tears as she raced to save Beathan. But the harder she ran, the more distant he seemed to be. “Beathan, run,” Tualla screeched, but he wouldn't move.

Too terrified to do anything else, Beathan began whimpering as the man stepped in front of him. A strangled cry escaped Tualla as the man’s sword pierced Beathan’s chest.

This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a dream or another vision. Why would the gods show her something she couldn’t stop?

Beathan’s chest rattled as he gasped for air, and then the gasping stopped. 

Tualla slumped to her knees, the sword falling from her hand as she waited for the crushing grief. But none came. 

Instead, she felt nothing. Empty. Hollow.

The murderer approached, relishing in his victory because he knew she’d lost all of her fight. Except the victory belonged to Tualla. She felt a sense of calm as she stared death in the face. 

She welcomed it. Embraced it even. She closed her eyes and spread her arms, waiting for her impending death. 

She heard a scuffle and when she opened her eyes, a sword sliced through the murderer’s chest. He seemed to be suspended in mid-air for a moment, before sliding off the blade and crashing to the ground with a thud. 

Aedan stood behind him, staring down at his body until he stopped twitching. He gave it a kick for good measure and held his hand out to help Tualla up. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to be too late.” 

Tualla recoiled, staring at the two lifeless bodies a few feet away. “You were.”

Aedan followed her gaze and gasped, covering his mouth. “Tully…” he said, almost choking. “I’m so sorry.”

Nothing seemed real as everything around her became hazy. Vaguely aware of Aedan pulling her up, she heard him speaking to her, but couldn't make sense of his words. 

Her arms flailed as he dragged her away. "No! Don't leave them!" She tried to reach out to them, but too weak, she succumbed to her exhaustion and everything went black.

***

Caught somewhere between life and death, Tualla woke up draped over a horse. It took a few moments for everything to come back; the vision, Elspeth, Beathan… 

She closed her eyes as that same emotional numbness settled deep within. But the pain was there, simmering below the surface, ready to burst through.

Her wound throbbed, and each trot of the horse sent a jolt of agony through her head, so much so, she thought it would explode. 

She deserved the pain though. Because she failed them.

“Dena?” she asked, her voice weak and lifeless. She looked up at Aedan, noting his hesitance and the slight shake of his head. 

“I tried…” Aedan’s voice began to fade.

Tualla thought of it as a blessing. Dena wouldn’t have to go through the pain of losing her children. And that gave Tualla some small comfort as she blacked out again.     

***

In and out of consciousness, Tualla recognised the trail they were on. When they reached the clearing, Aedan lifted her down and settled her on the ground. 

“You should have left me there,” Tualla croaked.

“What?” Aedan froze, a flicker of pain flashed behind his eyes.

“You heard me. You should have saved the others.”

“I’m not sorry for getting you out of there,” he said, wrapping a cloak around her and trying to make her comfortable. “I could never be sorry for saving you.”

Tualla closed her eyes, she couldn’t bear to see his sympathy. She heard him walk away and panicked when she struggled to move. “Are you leaving me?”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?” Ignoring the searing pain, she turned her head to see him climbing back onto the horse. 

“Looking for survivors. There has to be some out there.”

Flinching as she tried to nod, she blinked her approval. Her eyes grew heavy as she watched him take hold of the reins. “Do we know who did this?”

Aedan’s face contorted with anger and disgust. “The saxons. It was Edwin’s men.”

***

Nothing made sense. Why would Edwin attack them? He had just as much to gain by their union as her clan did. And how did they manage to attack undetected? She needed answers, but with Aedan gone, all Tualla could do was wait. 

Sore, achy and tired, Tualla slept most of the day and the following evening, but when Aedan still hadn’t returned, she feared the worst; he wouldn’t be coming back. 

Her whole life felt like a lie. It had been centred around her destiny and she’d believed she could make a difference, but it had all been for nothing.

How could the gods be so cruel?

Everything she loved had been taken from her. 

An ember ignited in her soul. All of her pent up grief and anger tore through her body, erupting in one long, anguished scream. 

After she got it all out, she stared up at the sky. “Morrigan, Andraste, Bodua… hear me! I’m done playing your games, I’m done trying to fulfill a destiny that's no longer possible. From now on, I’m forging my own path.” Tualla balled her fists as tears stained her face. “I call upon you as witnesses. This is my vow. I will avenge my people. I will not stop until Elnwich is bathed in blood and I have the lord's head.”

Author's note-

I'm so sorry! This chapter has been difficult to write but was needed to set Tualla on a dark path.

If you've stayed with me this long, I really can't wait to share where we go from here.

Please consider voting or leaving a comment  if you enjoyed this chapter.