The Deep Valley of Tears E-Book

Arwen Morrison

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 911

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

When her mother dies, Finnja has to learn to face life. Due to adverse circumstances, the young and inexperienced woman has to leave her home and her foster father, Father Matthew. She sacrifices her past and flees through the Highlands to Skye. With an uncertain future, Finnja faces a multitude of different trials alone, which she tries to overcome through her faith and the strength of her loyal love for her God Yahweh. Just as her new life proves to be a blessing and she has managed to open up to a few people, Finnja must choose between love and peace for her new home. Will Finnja suffer shipwreck at her faith and love due to the harshness of life?

Leseprobe

prolog

Scotland, around Lammas 1379, Castle Cunningham

Thunder pierced the old walls and rain had been pounding down on the ground for days. The rooms seemed to swallow up the little remaining daylight. The wildly dancing glow of the torches cast mysterious shadows behind three men who were waiting in the great hall for news from Lady Caitlin's chambers.

An unreal silence hung around them, interrupted by the rumble of the storm raging outside. The tension in the great hall could bring warriors to their knees.

One man in particular seemed to hold on to the hope that everything would turn out for the better: Lord Ryan MacLachlan.

Again and again the men heard the ominous screams of Lady Caitlin, his wife. With each contraction, a little more of the life energy left her body.

It was Caitlin's second birth. Lord MacLachlan could still hear the midwife's reassuring words ringing in his ears: the second child would require less energy than the first and would certainly be born by evening. The memory of these hopeful words now brought to light a despair that went right through his bones. She had been in labor for too long. She had already gone two days and a night without rest. He knew that her strength would soon leave her. She sounded so exhausted now.

"I'm supposed to call you. It doesn't look good." The midwife's old woman's voice broke the silence with calm composure and without any formal greeting. Lord MacLachlan looked silently at the row of men, whose faces were filled with pity.He stood up bravely, knowing full well that he was being called to say goodbye.

With a fixed gaze, he followed the midwife up the steps to his wife's room. Each step took strength. Struggling to regain his composure, he pulled himself together and, dejected, pushed open the thick wooden door.

He hesitated for a moment and then reluctantly entered her chamber. He would have much preferred going into battle.

Caitlin screamed desperately, her face twisted in pain. The midwife lay halfway on her upper abdomen and applied downward pressure to the baby with each contraction. It was a desperate attempt to assist the birth.

Father Matthew, a small, round-built man of advanced age, dressed in a brown habit, stood motionless. His face also showed fear of the bad outcome. He waited with a sad expression, prepared to perform an emergency baptism at any time as soon as the midwife gave him the signal. Father Matthew had been a confidant of Lady Caitlin's family for decades. It broke his heart to see Caitlin suffer like this.

Lord MacLachlan stood petrified in the room, watching the events and trying to remain master of himself.

"Father, hurry up. It's opening!" the midwife's voice sounded energetically, ordering him back from Caitlin's side to the wide open cervix.

The fear of giving birth to a dead child had now become a sad reality. The amniotic sac opened and the sealed fate was revealed in a gush of green, foul-smelling amniotic fluid.

Father Matthew reluctantly sprinkled the crown of the unborn child with holy water and baptized it in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, supposedly to ensure peace for the little soul. There was nothing in the Holy Scriptures to indicate that a stillborn child could not be buried in the holy field. This superstition inthis tradition, the fear of disaster, nevertheless made the people cling to it.

Lord MacLachlan fought to keep his composure and tried to suppress the nausea that was rising within him.

"Support her, Ryan," Father Matthew urged him harshly, "and encourage her. She is running out of strength."

He sat down next to her on the bed and cooled Caitlin's forehead with a wet cloth. With the next contraction, the child was born.

The sight made everyone shudder. A dark blue baby lay motionless between her legs. It must have been dead for at least two days. Caitlin collapsed exhausted into the pillow. Finally, it was done.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Caitlin asked wearily. Her shaky voice revealed that the stillbirth was no surprise to her either.

"It's a boy," the midwife revealed. Father Matthew's voice was filled with regret: "Caitlin, you have been very brave." Again he cooled her forehead.

The umbilical cord was cut, the child was roughly cleaned and wrapped in a linen cloth.

"Give it to me!" Lady Caitlin said firmly, fearing that she would be denied it. Everyone knew the seriousness of the situation. No one dared to contradict her. No one would prevent a dying mother from saying goodbye to her dead child. The blue ward was carefully placed in her arms and covered. Satisfied that she had gotten her wish, she collapsed exhausted. Shortly afterwards she fell asleep.

And again, no one dared to take the little ward from the mother’s arms.

The midwife took the amniotic sac from the bed and opened it with both hands against the pale light of the window. She examined it carefully to make sure that everything had come loose.

And again her expression was not good. She carefully felt her abdomen for the uterus. With each pressure, a small gush of blood came out of the vagina.

“The worst is not over yet,” the midwife revealed her realization. The bitterness in her words was clear.

"The uterus is not contracting!" Everyone heard the sad words clearly. The horrified looks of those around her were fixed on her pleadingly, as if she had been given the power over life and death and only a word of mercy would overturn the death sentence.

The smell of the blazing fire mixed with the sweet scent of blood. A few minutes passed before Caitl was lying in a blood-soaked sheet. It was a gruesome sight to see her with the small, motionless, dead blue ward in her arms.

“Father Matthew,” she whispered fearfully, “Father Matthew.”

"I am with you, Lady Caitlin," he reassured her, taking her hand and giving her hope and peace. She would not walk this final path alone. Caitlin gathered her last strength and looked pleadingly at Father Matthew. "Take care of Finnja, promise me!"

Lord MacLachlan's eyes met Father Matthew's. What a hateful expression lay in his eyes, showing his true character.

Lady Caitlin's request exposed him in front of everyone in the room. Everyone was aware of how much of a nuisance this child was to Lord MacLachlan. But today it was spoken out.

“Promise me!” Caitlin demanded.

“I promise,” Father Matthew vowed.

“Teach them to keep everything God has commanded us, as you taught me as a child!” Caitlin continued to demand on her deathbed.

“You have my word, Caitlin,” he agreed reassuringly.

This moment was as familiar as it had been in their childhood. Everything had disappeared: rank, title and even the presence of Lord MacLachlan.

He stomped out of the room angrily, ashamed of his exposure by entrusting her child from her first marriage to someone else in public.

God's view of priests who lead his sheep away from him instead of toward him.

Excerpt from the letterof Judas1

10 These people are different! They speak disparagingly of what they do not understand, and what they do understand—following their instincts as irrational animals follow their instincts—is precisely what brings them destruction.

11 Woe to them! They have followed the way of Cain, choosing to mislead others for their own gain like Balaam, and they have brought ruin on themselves by rebelling against God like Korah.

12 They are a stain on your common meals, for they eat without restraint, looking only to their own interests and not to the flock of God. They are like clouds without water, driven by the wind without bringing the rain that is expected; like trees whose fruit is not sought at harvest time, because they are dead, dead to the roots.

13 Wild waves of the sea, throwing up the filth of their own deeds like foam; stars that have gone off course and are destined for ever and ever in the darkness.

14 The prophetic words of Enoch, a seventh-generation descendant of Adam, also apply to these people: “Behold,” he said, “the Lord has come with his holy angels, an innumerable multitude,

15 He came to judge all people, to punish all who live ungodly and sinful lives for all their ungodly deeds and for all their wicked words with which they have spoken against him.

16 These people complain bitterly about God and are never satisfied with their lot. They follow their own desires, speak arrogantly, and flatter others, hoping to gain some advantage for themselves.

Chapter 1

Ten years later

Father Matthew's room resembled a herb chamber of the old order, where he himself had learned the herbs and the art of using them. The table was littered with pots full of dried and fresh herbs. The walls were sparsely lined with wooden shelves filled with roots, bowls and oil bottles, arranged according to different sizes and effects. Freshly cut lavender hung bundled on strings at different heights between the shelves. An intense, fragrant scent enveloped the small room and drowned out the musty smell of the old walls. The purple of the lavender was the only color in this strange place.

Deep in thought, Father Matthew sat in his sturdy leather armchair in front of the fire and ran his fingertips over the dark leather armrest.

Age was gnawing away at his body and his face was lined with deep wrinkles. His concern did not leave him when the door opened quietly and he saw Finnja. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, petite, fragile and innocent in appearance. Her long brown hair was neatly braided into a ponytail, which was usual for the lord of the castle's daughter. Her choice of clothes also revealed her modesty and her inner values.

Every day Finnja came to him in this small room. She wanted to learn more from Father Matthew's books about how plants could cure illnesses or at least provide relief.

They always greeted each other in the same way. Finnja knelt next to his chair and Father Matthew put his hand on her cheek - like a father looking proudly at his daughter.

“Stay seated, Father Matthew, I will prepare everything first.”

She knew about the sadness in his heart that he had been carrying for several days and tried to take more work off his hands.

“Finnja,” he sighed heavily, “we need to have a serious conversation.” He continued to look worriedly into the fire.

She hesitantly took the books from the shelf, stacked them in her arm, and stopped at the table near the herb shelf.

She waited for Father Matthew to begin to explain to her what was weighing so heavily on his heart.

“What would you like to talk to me about?” she asked quietly to start, and continued to clear the table so she could put down the books.

"Sit next to me, my child." The seriousness in his words made Finnja sit up. She sat down on the small stool next to him near the fire. Her stomach turned. The conversations so far had been about her upbringing, instruction, or, rarely, a reprimand, but the mood had never been as serious as it was today.

"Your stepfather left this morning to negotiate a prenuptial agreement with Devin MacLeods of Lewis," he began.

"I'm happy for Rachel, I'm sure she'll be in high spirits, don't you think? They say he's very wealthy," she gushed, full of relief and joy for her stepsister.

"I think she's a little too happy, my child, just like you. I heard that he's interested in you," Father Matthew explained. Finnja didn't understand the significance of this rumor. "With money, you can achieve almost anything," Father Matthew finished his thought.

At that moment, Finnja didn't understand anything. She was younger than Rachel and didn't have MacLachlan's blood. Finnja was the daughter of MacRae, Caitlin's first husband, who hadn't returned home from a battle against England.

Then understanding hit her with full force. Stepdaughter! Now she understood the worry that Father Matthew had been carrying around with him for the last few days.

"Be careful, Finnja. It's only a rumor so far, but if Lord MacLachlan is actually confronted with it, I don't know how he will react, let alone Rachel!"

Finnja turned pale, as if she had seen a ghost. Rachel had been promised to MacLeod of Lewis since childhood, and only five months ago he had been in Cunningham to sign the preliminary contracts. The negotiations lasted over a week, and both of them enjoyed this time to get to know each other better. Rachel in particular used the time to study and assess him.

"It seemed to me that he was very fond of Rachel," Father Matthew explained his impression. Thoughts raced through Finnja's head that seemed to never end. Rachel had never seen her as a rival; to Rachel, she was Father Matthew's foundling.

Rachel was a cunning woman, with great ambition, who wanted to take her place at the side of the one who could only mean advancement. Devin MacLeods of Lewis! He was an influential man with many lands and the necessary means.

“When are they expecting him back?” asked Finnja, in order to estimate the time frame by which she might be confronted with this.

"I suppose in a week, that is how long MacLeods of Lewis was in Cunningham. It seems to me a reasonable time, considering new negotiations. I only hope it will not come to pass, as his rudeness is well known, and loyalty was not born to him. He has, as far as I know, sired three bastards, each by different women. I pray fervently that God will spare you such a life."

Finnja absorbed every word he said and understood the hopeless situation she would be in if it reallyhappened. They sat next to each other in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

“It’s just a rumor so far, right?” Finnja wanted to confirm it once again.

"Yes, but I fear there is more truth in it than we would like."

The sadness never left Finnja's face as she tried to study the books, putting them down one after the other. Her thoughts took on a life of their own. Father Matthew watched Finnja. What a graceful young woman she had become. He was aware that she had reached marriageable age at seventeen. But that she would suffer a similar fate to her mother broke his heart. He had had to watch Caitlin's suffering for too many years. Caitlin was married for her lands. The fact that she had even conceived a child by Lord MacLachlan was thanks to the amount of wine that dominated him that one evening. Everything was to pass to his flesh and blood.

"Finnja, please hand me the Holy Scripture and sit down next to me," Father Matthew asked, his face forming a soft but troubled smile. She took the heavy leather-bound book from the shelf and it took several attempts to open the book before the clasp finally opened. She handed the book to Father Matthew, but he waved her away.

“Reading is too much of a strain for me today, my child. Continue reading where we left off last time.”

Finnja carefully turned the beautifully decorated pages until she came to this passage. She began to read devoutly from Matthew 23 verse 23.2"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You give a tenth of herbs such as mint, dill and cumin, but ignore the much more important requirements of the law: justice, mercy and faithfulness. These are the requirements you should fulfill and not neglect the others."At thesound of her voice, Father Matthew reveled for a moment in memories of how he had taught Finnja to read as a child.

"You are misguided leaders! You strain out gnats and swallow camels."

The mist danced around a long, narrow ship heading for Lewis's coast. The railing was decorated with simple carvings that were hesitantly revealed. The bow figure bore witness to past battles and showed only remnants of the original handiwork that could no longer be seen. The hull rose above the ship, as did the bow. A single mast held up the weather-stained, dark sail, which, puffed up by the wind, proudly revealed its full size. The ship had a spooky appearance. Time had gnawed at its entire appearance, and it also looked unkempt and not like that of a wealthy man. It was a shadow in the mist that belonged to the otherworld.

The men were already impatiently awaited. MacLachlan had been delayed by the autumn mist. The boat bumped roughly against the jetty and was quickly tied up with the ropes. Tormented by the strenuous crossing, the men climbed out of the boat one after the other.

An old, wiry man led Lord MacLachlan and his son Callum through the castle gates of Castle Lamont, across the large square of the outer bailey to the entrance of the great hall. Finally, he pointed to MacLeod, who was coming towards them.

"Greetings, Lord MacLachlan. I have awaited you with impatience."

"Greetings to you too. Forgive us for being late, but the weather changed and we made slow and laborious progress."

The treacherous weather was a constant companion and we surrendered to the whim of Mother Nature.

"I see you are not alone today. Do you need reinforcements?" joked Lord MacLeod, trying tolighten the mood a little. He was aware that Lord MacLachlan was advanced in years and thus had the necessary experience to negotiate treaties in his favor.

"My son Callum is accompanying me. It is never too early to prepare children for their future tasks."

MacLeod nodded in agreement, then pointed to a seat for two by the fireplace.

"Get a chair," his father instructed, pointing to the large table in the middle of the room. It reflected Lord MacLeod of Lewis's wealth, for which his clan was known. Expensive mahogany with beautiful carvings. While Callum was busy getting the chair, beer and roast meat were served with some bread on the side.

The maid was sent out of the room with the instruction to provide enough beer.

"I wanted to discuss things with you that may not be to your liking, so that I could get straight to business," Lord MacLeod began in a confident manner, tinged with respect.

Lord MacLachlan listened with interest.

“The last time I visited your castle, we negotiated Rachel’s marriage contract.” He eyed Lord MacLachlan appraisingly.

Callum awkwardly put down the heavy chair, joined them and unknowingly interrupted the conversation.

“To get to the point, I would like to ask you to give me Finnja as my wife!” Lord MacLeod concluded.

The two looked at each other in silence. Neither looked away.

“Father!” Callum interjected angrily.

“Shut up!” he coldly reprimanded his son.

Callum turned to Lord MacLeod in his hot-tempered manner.

“You can’t marry someone who doesn’t have our blood in her veins!” Callum exclaimed.

“Enough, Callum!” his father scolded him again.

“But…!” Callum couldn’t finish his objection; his father’s look silenced him.

“Go and wait on the boat!” His father’s authoritative tone left no room for contradiction.

Angry and humiliated, Callum left the great hall. His footsteps echoed all the way to the door. Her eyes remained on Callum in silence until he left the room, then Lord MacLachlan resumed the conversation.

"I have heard of such things," he revealed, sounding not at all surprised, as Lord MacLeod had expected. "But how do you imagine it? Finnja is my stepdaughter, as you well know, so my blood would not be married to you. Callum has just made this fact known loudly. What benefit would it have for me?" He asked his questions as a businessman who was looking for profit.

"I am offering you more land, so you are not at a disadvantage. The agreements worked out for Rachel remain valid, but are transferred to Finnja. You know that I will get the worse deal here," reminded Lord MacLeod of Lewis.

"Why should I agree to that?" MacLachlan poured himself some more beer. "Just give me one good reason that could convince me." He took a long sip of beer while the answer lingered.

“Money, Lord MacLachlan. Money and land,” laughed Lord MacLeod.

He had hit a sore spot, and Lord MacLachlan behaved exactly as his reputation preceded him. He would even sell his mother for his own gain.

So the contract was rewritten, the new lands were included and signed.

"What made you decide to do this? It seemed to me that you were very taken with Rachel," MacLachlan's curiosity got the better of him.

He enjoyed the juicy meat that had been provided while he waited for his answer. A small gift from Lord MacLeod to give him strength for the long journey home.

After much thought, a sincere answer came from Lord MacLeod.

"I cannot answer that. She excites me in a way I have not felt for a long time. You know very well that money can buy anything and that it opens doors to bedrooms," he revealed. "Finnja has aroused my interest and I assume you will know that I prefer delicate virgins. Finnja seems to me to be an untouched and ignorant young woman. Perhaps this possibility will satisfy your curiosity."

At these words, Lord MacLeod's face was filled with satisfaction. A hunter with the satisfaction of having killed his prey. But that was of only marginal interest to Lord MacLachlan. His gain was greater than what he had expected from marrying Rachel, and he would deal with her later. Both enjoyed the meal contentedly and toasted the agreement.

Lord MacLachlan boarded the boat late in the evening.

The fog lay heavy on the water, revealing the stars and allowing them a safe passage home to Castle Cunningham.

“Father, did you agree to this?” Callum’s words almost sounded like a scolding to his father.

“Men, take off!” He calmly ignored Callum’s question, which was answer enough.

"Why do you humiliate Rachel to such an extent?" Callum's anger in his tone was also audible to the team.

“What do you know about business!” his father replied energetically with a dismissive gesture.

"This trade has brought us more money than our lands can generate in four years. Rachel will have to understand. When it comes to the well-being of the clan, even the daughter of the clan leader has to make sacrifices. Remember that, boy!" His words sounded final and cold, whichembarrassed Callum in front of all the men who had to listen to this conversation without being asked.

During the entire journey home, not another word was spoken between father and son. Callum tried to imagine how upset Rachel would be and that there was nothing he could have done to change it. Rachel's accusations, because he had been there and had done nothing for her, were already ringing in his ears. Just the thought of her reaction was wearing him down. Rachel was to become Lord MacLeod's wife. His sister and no one else. Upset by the thought that Finnja would take his sister's rightful place, he was overcome with indignation. It did not go unnoticed by his father. MacLachlan waited for Callum's angry reaction, which unexpectedly did not come.

The sea was calm and they made good progress. Castle Cunningham was already fast asleep when they arrived. That meant that tomorrow would be the day he would have to explain the changes to the treaty to Rachel.

Breakfast was varied and plentiful, but hardly anyone had an appetite, except Rachel. She was beaming from ear to ear. Callum's facial features, on the other hand, seemed stony; it seemed as if he was jealous. She didn't know him like that. He was usually always happy for her.

"Why are you making such a face? It seems to me that you don't want me to have my wedding."

Callum looked at his father expectantly, took a big sip of beer and then slammed the mug on the table.

"Why don't you tell Rachel what a great deal was negotiated?" His eyes fell on Rachel. Without waiting for his father's reaction, it burst out of him.

"Our father has given him Finnja. The marriage contract for you has been rewritten!"

Now it was said, and Callum watched as Rachel's expression changed.

She didn't understand anything that Callum had said in his temper.

"Father, explain to me why Callum speaks of Finnja in the same breath as my marriage contract with Lord MacLeod?" she demanded an explanation.

"I couldn't do anything! Our father had sent me to the boat!" he explained, with a special emphasis on 'our'. His attempt to justify himself made Rachel realize the seriousness of the situation.

“Father, what was decided last night?” She was his exact image; feelings had no place when it came to power.

“Finnja will marry Lord MacLeod, but not under the same conditions,” said the businessman calmly.

"This is the most beneficial for the clan, Rachel, because now we have acquired lands that are not of little value, not to mention the money with which he bought Finnja," he revealed the reason for the change.

“Have the contracts been signed yet?” Rachel tried to get a better picture of the situation and whether anything could still be changed to her advantage.

“Yes, I feel sorry for you,” it sounded ironic, with feigned pity.

"We will make it seem as if MacLeod was not good enough for you, which would have resulted in your rejection. This way, your reputation will not be damaged. We must look ahead to get you married as quickly as possible before the whole affair is discovered. This way, we will achieve two goals with one action and earn us twice as much money as before!" MacLachlan stated the facts soberly.

Rachel was outraged.

"How do you imagine this in a hurry, father? Everyone knew about your decision regarding Lord MacLeod!" Rachel put her hands on her hips.

"How do you intend to arrange an equally good match in such a short time?" She looked accusingly at her father and stood up, becoming even more angry about his decision.

“Does Finnja know yet?” She paused for a moment and looked at her brother, who was overwhelmed by the situation.

"No, I sent her away with the priest this morning to take care of unimportant things in the village. Finnja doesn't leave his side, so we are alone and can calmly discuss a solution that will improve your situation."

MacLachlan was more serious than usual, and that made Rachel sit up and take notice. She knew her father well, she had studied his tactics since childhood. He paced up and down the great hall, which was obviously getting on Rachel's nerves.

Callum sat at the table and started eating. No one was surprised. He held back when it came to difficult decisions. His diplomatic skills rose and fell with his sister's moods and led to him being left out. He let his feelings lead him too often. Callum tried to please Rachel at all times, in contrast to her father, but in the end he seemed unreasonable and clumsy.

MacLachlan slowly put his thoughts into words.

"I had a clause added to the contract that in the event of her death, the land and the money would remain our property."

For a moment, Rachel wondered what her father was up to. Then her face began to brighten and she understood her father's plan with enthusiasm. Callum, on the other hand, was horrified by his father's statement. Even though Finnja was only his stepsister, she was a kind soul who did not deserve to die because of his family's lust for power and greed.

“Father, you can’t…!” he expressed his displeasure again.

His father angrily searched for the right words.

"Don't you care about your sister's honor? It seems to me that Rachel knows more about politics and commerce than you do!" Angry looks met Callum.

“How are you going to maintain this when you inherit it in due course?” His father’s disappointment was evident in his voice.

“You good-for-nothing!” his father yelled, echoing throughout the great hall.

Callum wasn't the brightest when it came to political matters, but his mind worked better than his father gave him credit for.

“You are a disgrace to the entire clan!” Disgusted with his son, he turned back to Rachel.

"We will first make a call and find you a husband so that no suspicions arise. We must be careful, otherwise it could cause more harm than good. If Lord MacLeod becomes suspicious, we will have war between the clans sooner than we would like. Always keep that in mind, especially you, Callum!" His incompetence was once again pointed out to him in the hope that he would finally learn something from it.

“You are unsurpassed in your deceit,” Rachel laughed out loud, “how could I have doubted you!”

Callum was not enthusiastic about this sinister plan. It was not said, but it was obvious. He did not let on how much he was reluctant to get Finnja out of the way just for the sake of money. He was outraged by the realization that everything had been planned by his father, including sending him back to the boat in this embarrassing way to make everything seem more believable. Callum played his role exceptionally well, trying to be happy for Rachel, and also praised his father several times for his brilliant solution. But behind the facade he was looking for a way to get Finnja out of danger.

It was a beautiful, sunny autumn day with thick white clouds that kept moving in front of the sun and casting large shadows on the earth. The wind blew a light breeze from the open sea across the land, interspersed with the salty breath that the sea released. In the distance, the noise of the village, which was getting smaller and smaller behind them, slowly died down. Finnja turned her face to the sun to fully enjoy the last warm rays. She rocked in the saddle of her mare and repeatedly patted the animal's neck in praise. Finnja and Saoire had become well-rehearsed over the years. The brown fur shone in the sun with a reddish shimmer.

Father Matthew was unable to enjoy this ride with Finnja. His old bones ached from the warm hairdryer, and his worry about Finnja weighed heavily on him. Ever since he heard the rumors, he had been in a state of unease. The uncertainty about Finnja was written all over his face.

"Are you still worried?" Finnja asked casually, still enjoying the sun's rays. She was living in the here and now, which brought a small smile to Father Matthew's face.

"You know that the Lord has been back since last night. That means that today, or tomorrow at the latest, we will see whether it really remains just a rumor. You are taking it too lightly, Finnja, there is a possibility that it is solid," he paused in mid-sentence, "if that is really the case, I have a bad feeling. Lord MacLeod is known for his preference and affection for young women, as well as for his games or his exuberant wine parties. From Rachel, she will certainly not just accept it," he let his head sink sadly. A sigh escaped his throat. Carrying so many worries on his shoulders was too much for his old heart.

"I don't think he'll demand the place from his daughter. What sense would that make?" Since Finnja had time to think about it, she didn't understand all the fuss.

For as long as she could remember, her stepfather had no interest in her. In fact, he ignored her since her mother's death and treated her like a nuisance.

“Perhaps it will clear up today and you can sleep peacefully again.” Finnja tried in vain to drive away his worries.

"My child, you know that what is shut before God no man can undo. So if it should come to that, which I sincerely hope not, you must do your duty as a wife to support him and to fulfill the demands he makes of you to the best of your ability. Do not give yourself any incentive to stumble, that he might have a reason to discipline you." These were serious words that Father Matthew spoke from his heart in a loving tone of concern.

Finnja raised her face to the warming sun again. Then she let her gaze wander over the sea in the distance.

"Enjoy the ride, Father Matthew, let's put the heavy thoughts aside. The view is far too beautiful to be missed. Don't you agree?"

He let his gaze wander melancholy into the distance.

During the entire ride to Cunningham, Finnja tried to cheer up Father Matthew with old stories they had shared together. She knew it was almost impossible to distract him. Finnja kept trying until they reached the castle gate.

They rode into the castle in silence, knowing that the time was drawing near when they would be called, either to confirm Rachel's engagement or to confirm Father Matthew's fears.

A stable boy ran towards them with a stool. He carefully helped Father Matthew down from his high seat, while trying to keep him balanced. Not that he would fall at his old age. Itwas a wobbly affair that became more challenging with each new ride. It seemed as though he would not be able to ride much longer.

Finnja slid down from her mare elegantly and without help. She seemed small, almost fragile next to the horse that towered over her. She led Saoire into the stable to drink water, gave the mare oats and rubbed her sweaty coat dry.

"Thank you for the lovely ride. I'll return the favor this evening with a fresh apple," she whispered in the horse's ear. Finnja wished Saoire could understand her.

“Lady Finnja, Lord MacLachlan is waiting for you in the fireplace room,” Ben, the stable boy, also a protégé of Father Matthew, told her in a friendly manner.

"Thank you, Ben. How's the mood today?" she asked tentatively, as she was now feeling a sense of unease in her stomach.

“It’s as always, Lady Finnja, I didn’t notice anything unusual.”

She took it as a good sign, otherwise he would be beside himself with anger.

Nevertheless, she still had a queasy feeling in her stomach. It would be fatal if the rumor were to become reality. Hundreds of repressed thoughts now raced randomly through her head.

The path to the fireplace room led from the stables across the castle courtyard. Father Matthew was recovering from the strenuous ride on a small bench in front of the castle garden. Their eyes met and spoke volumes. He longed to help Finnja, but was denied this. Finnja had to take this difficult path to the truth all alone.

"Please sit down for a moment, my child, and let us say a prayer for you. Let us ask God that words of wisdom and reason will come out of your mouth and that you will not carry the whole burden alone."

Finnja sat down gratefully and listened to his loving request to her God.

“And remember the words of our Lord Jesus Christ:When they hand you over to the courts, do not worry about what you should say or how you should say it. It will be given to you at the right moment. It will not be you who speaks, but the Spirit of your Father who will speak through you.”3

“Thank you, Father Matthew.” Finnja tried to smile casually.

The wind blew her hair from her face, which involuntarily reminded her of her mother. Images from the past flashed through her mind. Sometimes they had sat in the garden for hours, enjoying the sun and the wind, and her mother had told her stories about men and women who were faithful to the Bible. Especially on warm autumn evenings, when the gentle wind played with the leaves and made them dance and rustle.

Finnja drew courage from prayer, raised her head and smiled at Father Matthew to give the impression that she was prepared for this conversation.

Finnja knocked quietly on the door. The exaggerated decency that her stepfather had taught her so harshly made her wait until she was invited in. Then the moment came. With her heart pounding, she entered the room. Finnja looked around calmly and saw Rachel, Callum and her stepfather. She tried unsuccessfully to assess the situation.

"You asked for me. I hope you didn't have to wait too long." She curtsied to him and bowed her head briefly in respect.

“Finnja, close the door and sit down with us.”

He waited until Finnja joined them.

"There is much to discuss," said Lord MacLachlan at the start of the meeting. He paused briefly, as if searching for the right words.

Rachel's arrogance was not only evident on her face, but her whole demeanor was radiating with it. She lightly lifted her dress, which was covered in expensive embroidery, and sat down on thechair that her father had shown her. Rachel's condescending manner made Finnja's blood run cold.

"Sit down," her stepfather told Finnja. The cold tone was familiar to her, the harbinger of decisions made and irrevocable. Finnja felt a little nauseous, although she didn't know what exactly was coming. She sat down on the chair assigned to her, her back erect in a polite posture, and smoothed her dress. In this way she wiped the moisture from her hands without noticing.

“Finnja, the wedding will not take place as planned!” she heard her stepfather’s voice, and she felt as if her heart had stopped beating.

"You know, the honor of the clan comes first." His pause for thought was meant to give weight to this statement, which worked splendidly.

"The conversation with Lord MacLeod was not as lucrative as I had hoped, which means I have turned down the contract. For the sake of the clan, Rachel must marry someone with influence who will commit to supporting us in the event of war. In other words, someone who will bring us advantages."

Finnja tried to connect this information with the rumor, but it didn't make sense. The arguments her stepfather put forward did not fit into this picture or into politics.

"I'm very sorry about how the preparations have turned out. What do you want to do now that the wedding has already been announced?" Finnja tried to sound surprised, as was expected of her. She didn't want to give away the advantage of her knowledge.

"Despite initial differences, Lord MacLeod wanted to enter into a marriage with our clan to preserve his reputation and strengthen our unity. Do you understand what I mean?"

The words caught in her throat. She looked around, and the faces she saw made her aware of her hopeless situation.

“What do you expect from me to uphold the honor of the clan?” Finnja asked in shock, knowing what answer she was expecting.

"I have agreed to marry you. Our good fortune is that you made a good impression during the week of his visit."

Her stepfather's face was unmistakable, and Callum's dissatisfaction with this decision was also clear to see. Fear rose within her. She had already witnessed too many of his outbursts of anger when it came to her and his sister Rachel. And now Rachel was being rejected by Lord MacLeod.

“What do you want to do now?” Finnja asked quietly, trying to maintain her composure.

"After the business he still has to attend to in England, he will honor us with his visit in time for your official engagement." His look reinforced the decision.

"The announcement on that day will only cause a little confusion, which will be dismissed as a misunderstanding."

“But Rachel?” Finnja sounded almost reverent.

"Silence! Everything has been said on this subject. This is how it will be done or do you want to bring shame on our clan?" he said firmly. Finnja knew that no further objections would be tolerated. A chill ran down her spine. She fought to keep her composure and heard Father Matthew's warning that if this really happened, then...

Now the rumor had become true and there was nothing she could do about it.

"It shall be done as you expect of me," Finnja agreed in a trance. Tears welled up in her eyes, which went unnoticed by anyone.

"The world isn't falling apart because of it, Finnja, it's just a marriage that should have happened soon anyway," her stepfather played down the situation. Lord MacLachlan's ironyin this ridiculous attempt to calm her down hurt her more than the whole conversation. She was just a puppet in his game.

“I ask for permission to leave,” she asked quietly.

Her stepfather granted the request. Finnja stood up and curtsied when she heard her stepfather's voice again.

“Just go, you’ll need time to get your bearings.”

Her gaze met Callum's. There was an unfamiliar concern in his eyes that made her pause for a moment, then she left the room.

Finnja lost her composure on the way to the chapel. Silent, salty witnesses reflected her mood. Father Matthew was already waiting for her. He had not been prepared for this sight. He tried to calm Finnja, but her father's arms helped to make the pain audible. Her sobs were unbearable. Finnja lay in his arms, just as she had when her mother died.

“Finnja, try to calm down,” Father Matthew rocked her, stroking her hair.

"Shhh," he gently tried to comfort her. It took time for Finnja to get herself under control. She sobbed and blew her nose. She looked horrible. Her eyes were red and there were spots on her face.

"Tell me what happened, maybe we can..."

She interrupted him with a negative shake of her head.

"It's different from what you were told. Everything is planned down to the smallest detail. Even the way out to the monastery is blocked for me. He staged everything as if the honor and peace of these two clans depended on me. And with what satisfaction he ended the conversation. But I still don't understand what advantage it would be to marry me instead of Rachel. It all makes no sense!"

Again she gave way to tears.

Father Matthew's closeness was good for her; he gave her a special feeling of security that she desperately needed now - just like the familiar space, her shelter in this small back room of the chapel. Father Matthew thought hard about what Lord MacLachlan's motives might be, but he was just as confused as Finnja.

After a while, Finnja calmed down and explained the course of the conversation to him again. She didn't even leave out Rachel's arrogant attitude. Father Mathew was surprised when she told him about Callum's non-participation. It was not like him when the honor of his clan and especially the honor of his sister were at stake. He was known to be quick-tempered, with rash, hasty emotional actions that caused more damage than was necessary.

Father Matthew made a tea with valerian and lemon balm, hoping it would give Finnja some peace. She clutched the cup as if every single sip could bring comfort. Father Matthew sat in his chair, staring into the fire, lost in thought, trying to make sense of it all. Finnja, on the other hand, sat on the floor near the fire, soaking up the warmth to the full. Her hands were icy, as was her entire state. For a long time, the room was silent, only the fire made itself known now and again.

There was a dull knock on the thick wooden door, which was ignored the first few times until it brought Father Matthew out of his thoughts. He answered with a weary "Come in."

The door opened slowly. It took a lot of courage for Callum to enter the chamber and put his plan into action.

“Father?” Father Matthew looked up in surprise when he recognized the voice and knew who was standing in the doorway.

"Callum, what brings you to me?" Father Matthew asked cautiously. Finnja greeted him timidly, ashamed that he saw her so upset.

“I need to talk to you!” he continued, calmly and determinedly.

“Are you aware of the conversation my father had with Finnja?” he revealed the reason for his appearance.

"Yes, I am." Father Matthew rubbed his chin, "I just didn't understand the point of it!" He sounded accusatory, although he knew that the Lord himself was pulling the strings. The mystery of the situation increased with the fact that Callum's behavior during the conversation and now his appearance made as little sense as everything else.

"Can I sit next to you?" To everyone's surprise, Finnja pointed to the spot that had actually been her chair. Callum thought to himself how much humility Finnja radiated without knowing it, even though he hadn't wanted much to do with her in the past. Rachel was his sister, not Finnja.

But his father's plan opened his eyes to the petite person he had always consciously avoided. He sat down awkwardly on the chair and searched for the right words.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Finnja asked, trying to keep her feelings of despair under control. But most of all she was trying to hold back her tears. She was also waiting for an answer out of decency, which Lord MacLachlan had nastyly instilled in her.

“No.” He turned to Father Matthew.

“You have to get Finnja out of here!” He ignored Finnja like an immature child whose ears this conversation was not intended for.

Callum paused for a moment. "It's unavoidable!" He looked over at Finnja with genuine concern.

"I've known about this situation for a few days, Callum. But what brings you here to me with such a request? Are you afraid that Finnja is now taking your sister's place?" Father Matthew sounded reproachful.

As for Callum, maybe he wanted to help his sister get her rights, that could be a possible reason for his visit.

"I am not here because of Lord MacLeod's wife, whoever that may be. God protect her, but because of Finnja! You must get her out of here," his words sounded frighteningly serious, which made Finnja sit up and take notice.

"Callum, there is no reason that would justify me leaving here with Finnja. Your father would rather throw me in the dungeon than tarnish the clan's honor, that was made abundantly clear today. Being a man of God is just as helpful here as if I were a rat. You were there at the negotiations on Lewis yourself, and you know your father very well!" Hopelessness spread.

“No, I wasn’t,” he replied, angrily at his naivety, then Callum started to talk.

"Father had planned the meeting down to the smallest detail. He used my temperament to his advantage, so he could gain MacLeod's trust. I only found out on the spot that he would prefer Finnja as a bride. I was outraged, as was to be expected," he paused briefly. "Angrily, I tried to point out to him that it was not even up for debate. I was not allowed to speak, as you can imagine. He humiliated me in front of Lord MacLeod and sent me back to the ship like a minor."

He lowered his head and took a deep breath.

“And what is the goal he wants to achieve?” Father Matthew still did not understand what the real benefit was.

"He was able to acquire a lot of land that was not up for discussion with Rachel, apart from the financial advantage that was only possible because Finnja MacLeod had aroused her interest.He explained himself because of her delicacy of character,'" his gaze wandered over to Finnja.

"He can have hundreds of women like Rachel. You know what I mean?" Callum lowered his head in shame.

Father Matthew nodded. He understood what Callum was trying to tell him.

"But why shouldn't Finnja enter into the marriage?" Father Matthew waited thoughtfully for an explanation that would justify Callum's behavior and his request to take Finnja away from here.

"Father had the contract amended so that in the event of Finnja's death, the land and the money would remain in his possession." He sighed deeply and found it difficult to continue. This new side of his father was disgusting.

"He wants to exploit the addition to his advantage so that Rachel can still marry one of the wealthiest lords. After all, he was very taken with Rachel until he discovered Finnja and gathered information about her. And so Rachel will also get what she wants, a lavish life with money and wine in abundance."

Father Matthew nodded thoughtfully as the pain of realization overcame him. "Then everything is even worse than I feared! Greed is what ultimately makes him a murderer." These words were spoken out loud too quickly. He could not comprehend this change. Father Matthew had known him for so many years, but now he had reached a new peak.

“For the love of money is the root of all evil, which some, having coveted, have strayed from the faith and pierced themselves with many sorrows.”4,Father Matthew quoted the Holy Scriptures in astonishment.

Finnja's face was filled with horror, she realized what Callum had just explained. Tears burst out of her again and she lost her composure, sobbing. Callum reacted before Father Matthew could get up from his chair with his old bones. He jumped up, held Finnja in his arms and comforted her. He wanted to support her and reassure her that this was not the end. Callum showedbehavior that impressed Father Matthew and revealed more truth in his actions than words could. In all his years he had never seen such behavior from Callum.

"Finnja, we'll find a way out, calm down, I'm here to stop this, do you understand? I want to help you."

Finnja couldn't calm down, tears were running down her cheeks, and Callum dabbed them with his sleeve. He tried to comfort her. It drove him crazy to see Finnja's despair.

He turned to Father Matthew for help.

“Do you know a place where she is safe from my father?”

“Why are you doing all this for Finnja?” asked Father Matthew, remaining suspicious despite his observation.

"Killing someone in battle, man against man, to defend the land and the clan is one thing. Taking a young woman aside for money is quite another. I am a warrior, but not a murderer!" He sounded hurt at the distrust Father Matthew had in him after he had risked so much to warn Finnja and him.

"If you don't trust me, getFinnjato safety. The main thing is that you do it quickly!"

Finnja slowly calmed down.

"There is no place where he won't find me, you know that best of all. Everyone knows me, they've taken care of that." Finnja lost the courage to fight and spoke her thoughts.

"And everyone knows your father. Do you really think someone would take me in to provoke a fight that could end in war? Your father has started a battle over lesser things."

He knew she was right, but he still didn't want to give up. They had to try!

A biblical experience came to Father Matthew's mind, offering comfort in a hopeless situation, and so he spoke.

"Do you remember the story of the prophet Elijah, the trial by fire on Mount Carmel? Who was the true God, Yahweh or Baal? When Yahweh demonstrated his power with fire and, full of faith and conviction, had Elijah kill eighthundredand fifty false prophets? But the evil Queen Jezebell's threat to kill him and the statement that she had slaughtered all of Yahweh's prophets had plunged him into such deep despair that he fled to a cave in the mountains and wanted to die.Do you remember, Finnja?" Father Matthew looked her in the eyes for a long time.

“Yes, Father, I remember,” Finnja’s voice was broken.

“Do you also remember how the true God built him up and demonstrated his power to him?” Again he waited for Finnja’s answer.

"Yes.Yahweh passed by and a great and strong wind tore mountains in pieces and broke crags before Yahweh. But Yahweh was not in the wind. And after the wind there was an earthquake, and after the earthquake, fire, and after the fire a still, small voice came and asked him, 'What are you doing here?'"6Finnja wiped away her tears.

“And do you also remember how God assured himthat he had left a thousand, that he was not alone?”

Again Finnja only answered with a quiet “Yes.”

"It was all in his head. The loneliness, the hopelessness, and he had forgotten who was on his side. The true God, his God. And he got the strength to deal with this emotional defeat himself."

There was a long, thoughtful silence in the room until Callum broke it.

"Father, you should leave today. I don't know if Lord MacLeod has really set off for England or if he is already on his way to Cunningham. This could all be part of Father's plan to make Finnja feel safe." There was melancholy in his tone. Callum handed Father Matthew a small bag of money. At least that shouldn't stop the escape from failing.

"I must go before Father notices my absence. After this revelation about Finnja's planned demise, he will keep an eye on me."

With a look that Father Matthew understood, he stood up and said goodbye with a brief nod. Then he turned to Finnja.

"Finnja, listen to Father Matthew and don't trust anyone, you understand! I will give you everything you need through him!" Then he left the room.

Finnja felt the ground opening up beneath her feet; not only had she lost her position with the death of her mother, but now she was about to leave her home and lose it completely. But then she heard Father Matthew.

"My child, he is right, there is no other solution that will ensure your safety. We will set out tonight. Prepare your most necessary things, but keep your appearance simple like a maid."

With the last spark of hope, she rose to follow the instructions he had given her, but then paused again.

“You really think this is the right way?”

"I think it is the only way, my child," he struggled to hide his grief from her.

"Father, you taught me that it is writtento honor your father and mother.7Will not God be angry with me if I go against the will of my stepfather?" These words made Father Matthew feel respect. He had taught her all these things from God's Word. No one he knew had more reverence for God than this petite person, as fragile as a dried autumn leaf. With a smile on his lips, he put her mind at ease.

"Did not Moses say in the Ten Commandments, 'Thou shalt not kill?'8And later, does it not say, 'You parents, love your children.' God will at most pass judgment on Lord MacLachlan, but not on you, my child. Go now and do as I have bid you."

Father Matthew thought hard about who he could entrust Finnja to in order to ensure her safety, but he could not find a suitable place. It was years since he had felt so overwhelmed by the responsibility that had been placed upon him as he did at that moment. He began to plead with God, telling him his doubts, his helplessness, and his feeling of hopelessness, that none of this could be His will and that he urgently needed His guidance.

Endless minutes passed during which his composure seemed to dissolve until he was overcome by a feeling of relief and anxiety at the same time.

Ethain! They were together on the monastery island of Inchcolm. On this island, isolated from the rest of the world, their training as a man of faith began. Ethain was younger and did not take it nearly as seriously as Father Matthew. The meaning of humility was foreign to him, but despite everything he had been a loyal companion back then.

Father Matthew had no choice but to entrust Finnja to him.

Ethain carried out his duties in Old Elgol Stone. The castle had been owned for generations by Lord Cameron MacConner, a kind-hearted old man whom he had not seen for ages. He had seen through Lord MacLachlan's machinations early on, which ended in a bloody power struggle. Lord MacLachlan would never think that Finnja could have found shelter in Old Elgol Stone.

Father Matthew sat down at the old table, hastily put the books aside, prepared his pen and inkwell, and chose his words very carefully to explain this emergency. No one at Old Elgol Stone Castle was allowed to know of her true origins. Not that a gossipy village woman would find out where Finnja was. He carefully sealed the letter with a wax seal from the order. He packed the most necessary things, bread, water, and some dried meat, which were required for a journey of several days.

Finnja had packed her small bag with the few belongings she could not part with. Among them was the most valuable thing she owned: her mother's family ring. It was finely and simply crafted. It had been passed down from generation to generation from mother to daughter. Father Matthew had secretly taken it without a stirring of conscience on the night Caitlin died. He risked more than just his good reputation for this ring, but for nothing in the world would he have given it to Lord MacLachlan.

It was the only thing Finnja had left of her mother.

A trustworthy stable boy was instructed by Father Matthew to station two saddled horses outside the castle at nightfall. It was no easy task to obey his order unnoticed. Father Matthew paid him a week's wages.

Everyone sneaked out of the castle as inconspicuously as possible to meet at the meeting point, just behind the castle gate.

Finnja felt uneasy at the thought of the unknown, and there was also a hint of sadness, after all, Cunningham had always been her home. At that point, she was not yet sure what the world outside had in store for her. It would have cost her the last spark of courage and self-respect.

The night sky was covered with stars as far as the eye could see. A sight that inspired awe. It was bitterly cold, as these clear nights were. The pale light of the crescent moon gave an idea of where the small path through the forest ran. They hoped to escape the gaze of the guards through the dense branches.

It was the time shortly before the lunar festival Lughnasadh.

The dry leaves under the hooves and the snorting of the horses were the only things that could be heard. Finnja had dressed warmly, but the cold penetrated her thick winter cloak right through to her undergarments. It was an endlessly long night when, at dawn, they finally found a place that looked after the horses and was satisfied with the explanation thatthey were on their way to the San Pancratio order, and there they would help this poor soul to obtain forgiveness of sins. The fact that this order was in the same direction as Skye was a fortunate coincidence, which would not raise any questions. Many young girls who were in unwanted expectation were rejected by their families.

Father Matthew paid for the room until the next morning. No one would be surprised if he left late in the evening.

The room was a small, dark chamber with a window that had been made provisionally for the winter with thick, light-colored fabric. The temperature in this chamber was no different from the cold that had been her companion outside.

Father Matthew, exhausted, immediately lay down on the shabby bed and a moment later fell into a deep sleep.

Finnja was also feeling tired. She wanted to rest, to regain her strength, so she made a bed on the floor. She lay down, but she couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts and feelings were going through Finnja's head, which kept her awake in fear.