Page 159 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Ainslee paused. "Och, o' course I will marry ye, ye big walloper!"

Ainslee leapt up, putting her arms around Malcolm, who felt himself dizzy. Holding Ainslee hard, he felt happier than he had ever been in his life.

"Och, Ainslee, ye will nae regret it, I will go tell father first thing! Then we can be wed... Afore the month is oot!"

Swinging Ainslee around his waist, he lifted her into a lingering embrace. Perhaps they would have stayed like that forever, but a rushing of footsteps made them spring apart. Ruefully, Ainslee looked at Malcolm.

"I will hold ye to that, sir," she said, formally. Behind her, the ever-present caucus of servants watched silently. Reluctantly, Malcolm let her go and watched, longingly as Ainslee walked down the hall. He was just returning to his dram, when a noise startled him.

Black.

Malcolm never did know what hit him.

* * *

Her kiss stayed with him for the hours he slept. But when he awoke, it was to a grim surprise.

Ainslee was gone. The keep was gone. And worst of all, he was gone.

Malcolm squinted. The undisputable stench of fish, and saline hit him. Gripping a rope, he looked about.

Blue. As far as the eye could see.

He was at sea.

"Ach nae ye dinnae!"

Whoosh! Before he could get to his feet, something had knocked him off them. Now a face was gazing; red, weathered and haggard. His light blue eyes grinned.

"Dinnae ye e'en think aboot leaving... lad, there isnae way oot for ye, except a muckle long swim!"

Behind him, some men laughed. All the same, he fought. He railed against the men keeping him down, getting a drubbing for his travail.

He tried his hardest to get out of there, but it was no use.The ship was already miles from land, and Malcolm was trapped.

The man smiled, a bitter, lined smile.

"Nae fash laddie, yer one o' us now, an' ye best get used to it!"

CHAPTER 1

Ten years later…

The smell of rushes brought it back. She had avoided this room for a decade, but now the stale, cloying scent of the Duncan hall hit her in the nose.

Keeping her eyes down and her skirts up high, Ainslee scuttled across the strewn floor. Everything, from animal bones, to stale breadcrumbs, stuck to her shoes. And judging by the unholy smells in the room, something a whole lot worse as well.

Clutching the heavy sword her father had given her, Ainslee stopped a while. Its' blade glinted in the semi-light, showing off the rubies it was set with. She was here to present it to the laird, but so far, he was not here.

No one was.

Even the servant who had shown her in, had disappeared.

"Hello?"

Ainslee's high young voice echoed around the chamber. Then, a scurry of feet put her on her guard. Instantly, she raised the sword, its heaviness strangely reassuring as she fastened it into her hand.

"Hello?" she called again, her eyes struggling with the lack of light. There was something in the atmosphere that was uncertain. For a start off, she could barely see in front of her. Even for a castle, this room was dark.