I were born in the Highlands among the Scots. I were third born to my parents. I do not think my father liked me. I did not act like a “good” woman. A good woman is quiet and without temper. I have a temper. It is a big temper. My father talked to me about such things. He always left as in surrender. When I was of age, he would present young men to me for suitors. I could always best them in a fight. I were proud of this fact. He were not. I could not understand why. My father were proud when his sons could do this, why not me?
When Baird, my second brother, were born, my father forgot about me. He no longer cared if I were a lady or no. He had his second son and he had his two other daughters who followed me. He looked to them for obedience and proper behaviors. I were four summers Baird’s elder. From our childhood, Baird and I united in our thoughts. I was very fond of him as everyone were. He took great joy in all things. In our young adulthood and without my father’s word, Baird taught me to handle a quarterstaff. Our Uncles taught him and he taught me. I learned the sword too. I learned by how I saw others fighting. I practiced with Baird. We both enjoyed our learning. I think I were better, but Baird enjoyed it more. Baird laughed during practice and challenges. I took it seriously. For one so young, he knew more about life than I did.
One day, our relatives came and we twain heard about a big wild boar that had killed three good hunting hounds. Baird said, “This will be proof of our skill.” I agreed. So we got our hunting spears and dogs and left with no one the wiser. I should have known better. I were in my 18th summer. I wanted to prove myself to the men in my family. Here I thought was my chance. My skill in fighting was great. I thought it strong enough to protect myself and Baird. To my shame, I were mistaken.
We tracked the beast and trapped him between steep hills. The dogs attacked first and both were killed. We attacked. Something went wrong. Baird were tossed by the boar and trampled underneath. I remembered screaming in anger, then no thing more. Then I were sitting on the ground and watching the boar’s last breath leave him. This were the first time I raged. And Baird were still dead. The joy in my life had ended.
I took the boar’s skin and head and used it to drag Baird and the dogs home. It were then my father remember me. “What have ye been doin’?” he said. I told him. I told him that the boar had killed Baird and I killed the boar. “No.” he said. “I don’t believe you. Only men can kill a boar.” I hurt that he called me liar. I told him that I knew the ways of fighting and could kill a boar like any man. “No,” he said. “Were ye a man, ye wouldnae let no beast kill Baird. A man would have the strength to save him. The strongest any womman can ever be is with husband by her side and bairn in her belly. No wonder I can’t get you married! You’re not normal! You went against God’s natural order of things and Baird’s paid for it! You’ve gone and gotten Baird killed for your own unnatural state!”
For the second time, I raged. I woke up, standing on my feet, watching my family help my father off the ground. I used a broken spear shaft as a staff. I broke my father’s arm. His head were cracked and bleeding. My elder brother Hulbert and a bondsman lay on the ground. They tried to stop me. I asked my father if he thought I could fight.
“Leave” was the last word I heard from my father’s lips.
I went into the world. My mother and father write to me. I have others read it to me as I could not do so. I pay others to scribe to them. They asked me to return, to forgive and be forgiven. But I wander on. I talk with my father better in letters than in words.
Now I am in the service of Lord John in Devonshire. His good wife taught me the ways of letters. I can read and write to my family now. This pleased my family. His men are teaching me the intricate ways of fighting. This did not please my family. They are also teaching me to control my temper. This pleases me. Now I want to learn more. I learn more by wandering.
I found two good comrades who wander as I do. What I am wandering to or from, I do not know. I feel like wandering now. So I shall.
Comrades:
Milo and Elmo: a fun pair. Very religious.
Brighid: of elven stock. Very honorable.
Both wield magic. The priests and the Black Prince declare magic evil. I
say it is more like the sword. The sword is not evil or good, only the hand
that wields it.