Page 202 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

"Och help ma...," a groaning voice droned out. Ainslee's hair almost stood on end. Grasping Malcolm tight, she peered fearfully.

Malcolm had crouched down, and was now earnestly looking through the undergrowth by the side of the road. Tensely, Ainslee waited.

"Och, ma heid," a low voice groaned. Ainslee gave a little squeal, as the shape of a man appeared in front of her.

"Get back," said Malcolm, firmly, before coming in close to the body. As he went up to the man, he stopped dead.

"That's braw way to greet yer captain!"

"James!"

Malcolm's jaw almost fell open. He stared straight ahead, as the injured captain pulled himself up from the road. Watching them behind him was Ainslee, shaking her head.

"Whit's happened?" she asked, softly. Her heart was bumping extra hard. All she wanted to do was to get home, but it was starting to feel like they would never get there.

James sat up, for the first time, she saw him clearly, as a chink of light fell from the clouds above. Rubbing his head, James winked.

"Naething," he said playfully, winking at her. Ainslee immediately dropped her head. Fuming, she bit her lip.

James sprang up, grinning at Malcolm. "Och, ye couldnae hit a ten ton turbot in a barrel!"

Malcolm blinked. James laughed.

"Ye missed - by aboot a mile... the thing whooshed o'er ma heid!" James face crackled with mischief, just visible in the shadowy night skies. For a moment there was silence, as Malcolm took in what had been said. Then, he shook his head.

"Och, ye wee scunner," he said under his breath, but all the same, went to hug James briefly. He might have been pleased to see him, but Ainslee was not. Instead, she was most concerned.

"Where's Marisse?" she said, looking straight at the captain. Her expression did not falter. For the first time, the smile faded on James' lips.

"Och, she's nae lang off, nae fash, lass," he said, dismissively. Ainslee felt her temper bubble.

"Lo! Here she comes!" Malcolm said, as the faint noise of hooves came towards them. Ainslee looked; gradually, a woman with long, blonde hair came into view.

"Ainslee!" Marisse called, and Ainslee surged with relief. She had been worried about her riding on her own - although casting an eye to James - she was not certain about him, either.

An undercurrent of serious belied his bawdy demeanor. Anxiously, she looked to Malcolm, his dark cloud had not lifted since arriving in the village.

"So then, laird Malcolm, whit's yer plan?" James sounded jaunty enough, but the piercing look that accompanied it left Ainslee in no doubt. The pair were serious about attacking tonight.

"Mal, I," she began, but immediately, Malcolm talked over her.

"We ride tonight," said Malcolm, stiffly. Ainslee took a breath deep inside. Her eyes flitted to Marisse, silent on the horse beside her. The four were riding, down the brow of the hill, and back out to the main track towards their village.

"Malcolm, ye cannae!" shouted Ainslee, with such vehemence that Malcolm stopped dead. Slowly he turned, fixing his colorless eyes on hers. Ainslee pleaded with him, helpless.

"Ye cannae go tonight, tis madness, ye'll be killed for sure!" she entreated.

Malcolm's face was cold as stone. Through the gray darkness it was impossible to fathom the shade of his eyes - or even the red of his hair. Ainslee watched, fascinated, as the moonlight washed Malcolm's hair of its color.

"Enough! I have waited ten years for this! I have come to slay him, an' bring peace back to the clans!"

Malcolm's cheeks were pale, but his words were bloody. Ainslee felt her stomach plummet into her knees.

"Ye cannae bring peace, wi' bloodshed," she reasoned. She was holding the reins so tight, they almost cut her. But despite his frozen stare, she did not back down.

"Whit are ye saying I should do?" demanded Malcolm. "Ask him nicely to leave?"

His voice was low and surly, sending a bitter dart towards her. Ainslee's heart ran cold. She had never seen this side to him. He was cold, angry, full of hate.