Page 233 of Tales of Highland Loyalty

Malcolm steered the small boat through the waves, his bronzed face taut and weathered. "Land ahoy!" he called, triumphant.

Opening her eyes, Ainslee blinked around her. The world came bobbing into focus. But beneath her skirts she felt something wet. With a jolt, she panicked. Could it be that her labor was about to start?

Seeing her face, Malcolm misinterpreted her. "Nae fash lass, we're nearly back!" he pointed to the shore on the horizon. Ainslee smiled, stiffly, but this was not the cause of her disquiet.

It was the out of control wetness beneath her undergarments. With a start, she wondered if the baby would be born too soon.

"Malcolm, och," she said, as a splash of water came from beneath her.

Salt water. With a sinking heart, Ainslee recognized that the surge from down below had nothing to do with her waters - and everything to do with the boat.

It was the sea.

Panicked, Ainslee turned to Mal. "Malcolm, the boat... it's letting in water!"

They both turned, looking in the center of the boat - sure enough a small coin sized gash had appeared in the base of the boat. Thinking quickly, Ainslee attempted to block it with her shawl, but it did not work.

"Crivvens!" Malcolm immediately tried his hardest to block the gash, searching through his bags for something to plug it. Then, he set about steering as fast as he could to the land.

But the weather had changed. Now it was spitting, and a low, damp cloud had come down, rendering it hard to see. Anxious and panicky, Ainslee found it hard to settle down.

"Och, I kent we shouldnae have gone oot," she chided, more to herself than anything. Suddenly, the fishing weekend away seemed like an act of total folly.

"Nae fash," said Malcolm, calming her. "We shall get back," he said, but in his eyes Ainslee saw shoots of uncertainty. The visibility had dropped. Now it was not even obvious where the land was.

Malcolm struggled on, the water in the boat still coming. Ainslee felt her skirts drench and soak. Inside, she tensed.

Then, bump!

Malcolm held her closely. In that instant, he had her, so tightly she could barely breathe. Shielding her fully, Malcolm brought his arm around her hard. The boat had been hit. To begin with, Ainslee thought it was land, but then, her heart almost skipped a beat.

"Hoo there! Give me all yer coin right noo!"

A stark voice echoed into the mist. Clambering on board, a pair of bare feet, thick and heavy. Looking up fearfully, Ainslee saw a man - clad in ragged slops.

"What hoo! Yer money, an' yer boot, or the fishes get ya! Och, it looks like they already did... crivens! Ye've got a leak!"

For a minute, Ainslee struggled, she did not recognize the man in front of her. But Malcolm did.

"James!"

He jumped up to greet him, hugging his friend tight - of course, the boat tilted madly as he did so. Ainslee looked in wonder, as James boarded. Out of nowhere, a galleon had appeared, its large sails rippling in the easterly breeze.

"Come on, jump aboard!" said James, as the small boat took on more water. Ainslee did not need to be asked twice.

* * *

The tall clan stone stood imposingly in the heather-bedded moor. As the June sun rose, climbing the sky in hues of gold, Ainslee shaded her eyes. Straight ahead, the crowd waited for them to approach.

In a line, they approached from the other side of the moor; her, Malcolm, James and his raggle-taggle crew. And even from here, Ainslee could see looks on the faces of the clan elders.

"How fare ye, Ainslee? Ye need to sit doon?"

Malcolm squeezed her arm, as they walked, briskly, across the peaceful moorland. It was beautiful; the soft Highland heather creating hues of white and pink. The air was scented and light, and, leaning into Malcolm's side, Ainslee wanted nothing more than to lie there, and fall into a deep sleep.

But she did not tell Mal that. "I'm braw," she said, as she stroked her belly. "I dinnae want to miss ye becoming clan laird!"

Besides which, they were all watching her. Every eye of the encroaching crowd was trained firmly on them.