Page 199 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Nearly there, noo," she said, as the tiny village appeared on the horizon.

There he would find his old haunts, even his home.

And then he would see something else; how much it had changed.

Ainslee had no words how to explain that, either.

* * *

It was dark when they rounded the hill to the village. By then Malcolm was weary, a strange heaviness overcoming his arms and legs.

Stopping on the large stallion, he paused by the vantage to the town.

"Ye braw?"

Ainslee was looking at him, a concerned light in her dark brown eyes. Malcolm checked himself, a tingle of pleasure rushing through him. He had missed her gentle stare; he had missed her.

"Ah, I'm braw," he said, lifting himself. Raising his head, he attempted to see far and wide. The night was settling in fast, but with a bright moon, he could glance about the little settlement.

From here, it looked peaceful and calm. But something in Ainslee's demeanor suggested all was not well. Pensive, she cast her eyes out to the low blackhouses on the way.

"A penny for them," said Malcolm, as she stared. Smiling, Ainslee turned around.

"Wheesht," she said, tugging her horse's reins. "Ye couldnae find ha'penny in this toon..."

Malcolm looked up to see what she meant, but Ainslee was already riding, taking her small gray mare by the lead and making it trot quickly. Malcolm followed suit, wondering what ailed her.

He might have been away long, but he hadn't forgotten. He knew when something was wrong.

Soon they came to the brow of the village. Again, Ainslee stopped. A very few of the lowhouses sent smoke rippling into the night, but mostly, the fires were out.

Malcolm shivered. With the cold settling in for the night, temperatures were falling. Eyes glancing about, he watched Ainslee.

She seemed unsettled. Wrapping the shawl about her arms, she shivered, but appeared sharp. Her face twitched and turned in various directions, as if she could hear something he could not.

"What is it, lass?" he asked, expectant. "Is someone there?"

Ainslee looked at him, absently, then shrugged. But the edgy way she kept glancing across her shoulder bothered him.

"Ainslee," he said, more gently. "What is it lass...? There's nae to be afeard o', I'm here..."

Ainslee laughed drily. "Ye an' whose army, lad?" she tutted. "Tis certainly nae ye clan’s!"

Malcolm stood, puzzled; what did she mean by that? He dismounted and began walking toward her. But as he approached, Ainslee pushed him away.

"Wheesht!" she said, this time more forcibly. Rebutted, Malcolm took a step back, but he was not happy.

"Ainslee," he said, more firmly. "Ye shoo me like a fly on yer shoe..."

Ainslee just pouted, her lips illuminated by the early evening moon. Then she pulled a face. "I didnae," she insisted, leaving Malcolm half-amused, half-perplexed.

Before he had time to do anything else, she lifted her horse's reins.

"Shall we get started?"

Malcolm mounted his horse, and slowly they started wending their way down from the top of the mount, to the inside of the town. As they approached, Malcolm was struck by a sense of foreboding.

"Ainslee?" he said in almost a whisper. He didn't know why. It was evening, certainly. It would be settling down. But all around him was an eerie silence.