Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)

Five

Sweat rolled down William's face, beads of moisture gathering on his back and chest as well. Pausing in his labor, he wiped his sleeve across his forehead, taking a deep breath. The wall had collapsed in a V-shape, taking out one corner of the house with it. Around him, the rocks of the fallen barrier sat, scattered and covered in moss. Sorting through the gray stones was proving to be more arduous than expected, and that was supposed to be the easy part of it all. There was still the roof to fix, which would require harvesting new lumber, reconstructing the frame, gathering fresh thatch, and trimming back the branches of the trees surrounding the blackhouse. On top of all that, he would have to search for an already felled tree that would yield enough material for the job, or risk using wood that was too wet and might warp or crack over time. Of course, the hardest task at hand was going to be convincing Isobel to let him reconstruct her entire ceiling.

Grabbing a longer piece of rock, he hefted it into the pile of matching pieces, careful not to chip any of them. So far, he had three mounds that were starting to form. There were the larger, heavier pieces that had once made up the base of the wall, some of which were still partially buried in their places, waiting to stabilize the house once more. Next were the midsized stones that formed the wall itself, enough to make a stronger, double wall, as the foundation suggested should be done. Lastly were the flat boulders that served as tie-in-stones. They were long enough to span both sides of the wall, tying one side to the other and creating a strong façade.

It was unclear what had caused the edge to crumble in the first place, but Will wasn't concerned with it. He would build it back up stronger than before, packing the space between the rows with earth and smaller stones as well. By the time he was finished with it, he expected that it would have to be a purposeful demolition to bring it down again.

Isobel's voice carried through the broken house toward him, her tone angry as she ranted to herself in her native tongue. Will understood some of it, the language being close to Gaelic, and chuckled, finding her fire admirable. She was calling him a great many names, several of which Maw would have washed his mouth out with soap for if she'd heard him utter them. A makeshift wall of hide hid her from his view, though, and kept him from replying. He assumed she'd tacked it up herself when she arrived, to counteract the fact that she was living in ruins.

"Stop that!" She yelled as he continued to sort through the rubble, peering around the hide. The branches and debris from the roof still blocked her from view some, but it was clear she was even more angry than she'd been before. "I don't want ye here, ye fool! Go away!"

"I will not," he replied calmly. "I said I'd fix this house and I intend to do it. Nothing ye say is going to sway me from doing what I feel is right."

Huffing, she snapped her mouth shut, glaring at him as she retreated behind her screen once more.

With a sigh, Will turned back to his work, glancing at the water trough nearby. Deciding to finish clearing one spot before getting a drink, he set to work on accomplishing his tiny goal, allowing his mind to focus on just the task at hand. The stones would fit together in a pattern and had probably fallen close to their designated counterparts. If he paid close enough attention, he might be able to save himself some time when he started restacking them.

Half an hour later, he'd finished half of the sorting and broke to get a drink. Moving over to the basin, he knelt down and splashed the cool liquid on his face before cupping his hands and raising it to his mouth. The refreshing wave that followed left him feeling rejuvenated, as small as it was. Brushing excess droplets from his beard, he moved to rise, dipping his hand in the water and rubbing it on the back of his neck as well.