Page 171 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

It was only when they were outside that Malcolm could catch his breath.

"Malcolm, pal, I am sorry to hear o' yer father," said James, rubbing his shoulder.

The night was cold and dark, and proved to be just the elixir Malcolm needed. He breathed in deep, but could not stop the emotions from clouding.

"I...," Malcolm swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank ye..."

Darkness.

The sea quenched the shore, spraying it with foamy toss, as Malcolm reflected oddly on being on the other side of it for a change.

Blinking, he rubbed his eyes. Sea, sky, and water. It was all he had seen for the best part of ten years. He had not expected it, but being back was a greater shock than he was anticipating.

"Listen," said James, his parched hand still on his shoulder. Malcolm took a dram. He was not sure where it came from, perhaps James had handed it to him.

Malcolm let the mellow whisky slink down, whilst he tried to steady his motions.

"Ye are welcome anytime back aboard the Margret Rose," he said, gently. "The ship is in port for five mair days, but after that we shall leave... if ye want to, there's a place for ye as first officer!"

A breeze came in from the sea, helping to sober up Malcolm. He turned to his friend.

"Thank ye," he said. It was so dark, he could only just catch the glint in James' eye. "But I dinnae ken... I have to go..."

James raised a brow. "Gae where? Yer nae gonnae do anything stupid, are ye?"

"Just into toon, to find a horse... I have got to get home...," he winked, but this seemed to worry James more. Malcolm felt his hot eyes upon him, but stood his ground.

"It's nae to fash aboot," he said, turning to James. "But I really have to go..."

He hugged James, who grinned broadly. "Any time ye will be welcomed back," he said, sincerely. Malcolm beamed, but emotions gurgled up in him like a stream.

Then, he was gone, heading off down the lone path to the main street.

Except, he was far from alone.

A woman was there.

He had not gone far into the town, when he noticed her. She was following him, he was certain. Glancing about the darkened streets, Malcolm watched, unsure.

The noise of the inns, and the crashing of the waves blotted everything out. Sea spray was spitting over the low walls, and onto him. Perhaps in all the commotion, she imagined he would not see, but he did.

A black figure, huddled in cloaks, paced behind him. To begin with, he had thought it innocent; just a townswoman making her way home. But then he noticed that she stopped when he did.

Pulling into a gap in the wall, he noted that the lass paused also. Then, when he started again, so did she. And then, she did more. She turned and had a look.

Her bright eyes glinted in the moon, leaving Malcolm on high alert, and in no doubt at all that he was being followed.

Enough was enough. Malcolm reached for his cutlass.

Feeling its blade, Malcolms anticipation unfurled.

He was ready to take her.

CHAPTER 5

A few hours earlier...

"Och, I kent I shouldnae ha' let ye talk me into coming oot tonight!"