The first drops of rain had pattered against the windowpane. Ailsa sighed and stretched; her body still ached from the journey to Dunrigh and now she would be hiking through the wet and cold again. She swung her legs out of bed and shuffled to the door. The plum, silk nightgown she wore clung between her legs, making walking awkward.
Perhaps I’ll feel better after some food, she thought, stepping through to the lounge.
“Oh, good morning!”
She stopped rubbing the sleep from her eyes and snapped her head up to find Harris bent over a pair of packs. He was dressed in travelling clothes and looked like he had been up for hours.
“I thought I’d get a head start.” He tilted his head as his gaze slowly glided over her body. A faint blush dusted his freckled cheeks, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth.
“Could you not have done this in your own room?” She surreptitiously crossed her arms in a bid to cover up. This was the least dressed she had ever been around a man.
“Not when the bacon was delivered over here.” He took a bite of breakfast and continued with his mouth full. “Plus, I wanted to catch you as soon as you got up. I was thinking… you’ll get pretty bored with having only me to talk to.”
She laughed. “Bored isn’t the word… infuriated… annoyed… irked… exasperated…”
He raked a hand through his copper mop of hair, avoiding her eyes. “I get it. Anyway, I was trying to think of some ways to lower the tension—”
She raised an eyebrow. “You could just be, you know, less irritating—”
“Impossible,” Harris scoffed. “Anyway, I came to the conclusion that you might need a break from me every now and then.”
Ailsa nodded her head slowly. “I agree.”
“But it would be dangerous to split up.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes…”
He persisted, his tone nonchalant. “So, we should bring someone else with us.”
“Well, I’m not too sure about that.” Ailsa frowned. “You don’t mean one of General Fraser’s men?”
A wave of indignation crossed his face. “That pompous fool? No, that would be too cruel of me.”
Ailsa’s patience was wearing thin. “Who are we bringing then?”
Harris grinned. “He’s a trained warrior and quick on his feet.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Plus, he’s very loyal to the crown.”
“Okay…” She wasn’t entirely sure where this was going.
“Easy on the eyes… marvellous dancer…”
The blood drained from her face. “Wait! Not—”
“That’s right, Prince Angus!”
Ailsa balled her hands into fists. “Harris, this is ridiculous.”
. “But he would be a huge help,” reasoned Harris. “He can take care of himself, too. I’ve also heard he’s extremely skilled with a sword—”
She growled in frustration. “I don’t care if he can close his eyes and do a jig while singing Mairi’s Wedding backwards. He’s not coming!”
He shrugged. “Well, I already asked him and he said yes.”
“Harris! I am not a babysitter,” seethed Ailsa. towering over where he crouched. “He’s going to be more trouble than he’s worth.”
Harris stood in a fluid motion and stared down at her. “He’ll look after himself. Besides, we’re risking our lives for his family. Why shouldn’t he help?”
“Just because you have a big fat crush doesn’t mean I have to be happy about this.”
Harris stuck his tongue out at her and grabbed one of the packs to continue packing.
Great, Ailsa thought, plucking a sausage from a tray on the table. Why did I say yes to this insane journey? Oh, that’s right, because someone complimented me and turned me into a puddle of drool. She threw herself into one of the chairs. “Such an idiot.”
“Did you mumble something, Ailsa dear?” Iona called from the bedroom door. She emerged wearing a robe and a sleepy smile. “Why are you wearing nothing over your nightgown? You’ll freeze!”
“Shh sister,” admonished Harris, his voice joking and light again. “Ailsa was just giving me the motivation to not die on our quest, lest I never see a pretty woman in a negligee again.”
Ailsa launched the rest of the roll she’d been eating in his direction and smirked smugly when it hit him squarely in the temple. “Pig.”
“Are you almost ready to go?” Iona asked, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Nearly,” replied Harris, brandishing a coil of rope. “Just have to pick up a member of the royal family and we will be on our way.”
Iona looked surprised. “Prince Duncan is joining you?”
He grinned. “Even better—Prince Angus. Ailsa thought it would be a lovely idea to have another trained fighter around to watch my back. She’s so thoughtful.”
Iona shot a questioning look at Ailsa.
Ailsa answered with a growl of fury. “I swear, Iona, I will leave your brother and bring the Stone back myself if all I have to hear is how much he is in love with Prince Perfect.”
“What did I do to deserve such a compliment so early in the morning?” Angus strolled into the room in black travelling clothes. He caught sight of the two girls and instantly averted his eyes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise you were all still in your nightclothes.”
Ailsa marched up to him and poked him squarely in the chest. He began to back up, but his ankles bumped into the wall behind him.
“Listen, if you’re coming with us, then you have to keep up. I can’t look after you.”
He swiftly nodded. “Don’t worry, you can count on me.”
Ailsa huffed and speared Harris with a dirty look.
“We’ll just go and get ready,” Iona soothed as she pulled a raging Ailsa towards the bedroom, but not before Ailsa snatched another sausage. She savagely tore into it while she scowled at the two men over her shoulder. Angus was already checking what Harris had packed, whispering with him as the door swung closed.
Chapter 20
Two hours later, Ailsa was waiting to depart at a humble entrance behind the castle. She kicked a stone and tapped her fingers impatiently on her arms, surveying the darkening sky and listening to Angus say his goodbyes. Lady Moira was straightening his jacket and swamping him with advice. He kept fidgeting like an overexcited child, and watching Harris, who was teaching a kitchen boy how to do a handstand. Meanwhile Iona, who was becoming increasingly annoyed with Harris, was attempting to speak with him about the journey. He squinted at her from where he balanced upside down as she spoke.
“And please, Harris, don’t forget to stay away from the coast as much as possible—stand up when I’m talking to you!—because the Avalognian raiders are probably still out there—”
“Urgh, wind your neck in, Iona. We’ll be fine!” At that moment, Harris fell landing on his backside. He rubbed his rear with both palms and the boy beside him snickered.
“Maybe I should go with you,” Iona muttered, wringing her hands. “If Nicnevan is really out there, then—”
“I can handle it.” He gave the lad a smirk and then snapped his fingers behind the boy’s head and revealed two apples, pretending to have magicked them into existence. Harris began to juggle the fruits in the air in front of Iona.
She clicked her tongue. “Harris, you’re not exactly the most careful. How is your side anyway?” She gave him a cool look. “You know, where you were injured swimming to Eilanmòr? Or how about your neck, where your throat was almost slit?”
“Quit nagging me,” he groaned, dropping one of the apples. The other, he caught between his teeth, biting down. He produced another apple, which he held out for the kitchen boy who grabbed it and darted off merrily.
Harris chuckled, then turned to face his sister. “Look, let us get on with this and you do your job here. Just in case we’re too late with the Stone, we need you at Dunrigh to help Prince Duncan.”
Iona squinted sceptically but nodded anyway. Angus had
also finished his conversation with his cousin; she threw up her hands in surrender and gave him the sword she had been clutching. He beamed and fastened it to his belt before giving Lady Moira a swift hug.
Ailsa lifted her pack onto her back. Although they’d packed lightly, it was still heavy. She buckled it around her waist to distribute the weight evenly on her hips, then traipsed over to Harris and Angus.
“Do you think he’ll come and say goodbye?” Angus asked Lady Moira.
“He’s probably busy, cousin.” She put a hand on his arm, but just then the doors banged open and Prince Duncan strode out. He took the steps two at a time, coming to a halt in front of his brother.
“Duncan,” Angus beamed.
The Prince’s face was severe as he greeted his brother.
“Angus,” he boomed, “this is paramount.” Duncan placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. His tone was clipped, formal. Ailsa shifted her weight uncomfortably as she witnessed the exchange.
Angus straightened and set his jaw. Gone was the playful, young man from the previous night. Here was a soldier, standing to attention.
“I know, I will not let you down.”
Ailsa wondered if Angus’s upbringing had always been like this: always serious around family, hiding away his true self. For a moment, she felt sorry for him. While the time she’d had with her mother and brother had been short, it had been full of laughter and love.
“It is also important that you stay safe.” Duncan’s face relaxed, and just like that, Ailsa was no longer looking at a future king and one of his knights, but at two siblings. Angus’s shoulders loosened. He offered the Crown Prince a hand, which Duncan shook.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Angus broke from the embrace. The future king ascended a few steps and Ailsa took that as their cue to finally set off.
Harris blew his sister a kiss and then two guards escorted the three travellers to a gate, overgrown with ivy. Ailsa was glad they didn’t have to go through the city with crowds of people gawking at them. She glanced over her shoulder at the group of waving people. The weight of the responsibility with which she had been entrusted felt more cumbersome than her pack. Next to her, Harris and Angus paused in front of the barrier.
“Well, here we go, I suppose,” quipped the selkie, his voice wry.
They waited as the soldiers pulled open the gate, ripping the weeds away, then stepped out into the country beyond.
Chapter 21
The bluebells grew in patches on this side of the hill and the path was much steeper. Ailsa glanced at the two men, who were quiet for once, both staring at their feet as they descended.
After twenty minutes of silence, she became concerned. While she would have preferred a quiet, blissful journey, it felt almost unnerving that the two men weren’t chatting inanely. Sighing, she eyed the brown-haired royal.
I’m going to regret this.
“So, Prince Angus,” she said, thinking hard for a topic of conversation, “have you ever come this way when leaving the city? It seemed like the gate hadn’t been used in a while.”
“Actually, I haven’t left the city in years.” He took in the rolling hills ahead of them and scowled. “And please, if it’s going to be Prince Angus for the rest of this journey, I may need to plug my ears.”
Ailsa tilted her head towards him. “I hope you know that there will be no other special treatment.”
“Thank the Gods!” He rolled his shoulders and grinned.
“When was the last time you left Dunrigh?” asked Harris, grabbing the stalk of a plant as he passed, peeling off the leaves.
“When I was a child, I used to go hunting out here with my father and brother, but that all stopped when I was fourteen.”
“Why?” asked Ailsa, curious.
Angus’s lips pressed into a hard line. “I ran away.”
Surprised, she stared expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He let out an uneven breath and rested a hand on his sword hilt.
“I wanted to become a soldier. Turns out that if people know you’re a prince, they hold back. So, I went somewhere that would treat me like anyone else. There was a training camp about half a day away with a reputation for brutal—but effective—teaching. I managed to stay hidden there for three weeks before Father turned up.” Angus gave a short laugh. “I was sure he was going to take me home, and I would have been glad for it. When he found me, I had a broken nose, blisters all over my sword hand and I was covered in bruises. They used to do this thing where they’d get all new recruits to hold themselves on the rafters of a barn for an hour. If you fell, then you’d land in a huge pile of cow dung and they’d make you sleep outside like that.” He scratched his beard thoughtfully. “I fell every day on the first week. Manure does keep you surprisingly warm though,” he chuckled.
“Did your father punish you for running away?” Harris glanced at him with concern, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his pack.
“In a way, yes. He made me stay. Said that if I wanted to be a soldier, I could bloody well see it through. I was there for six months in total.” He kicked a stone ahead of him on the path. “Best six months of my life so far.”
Ailsa choked. “Are you nuts?”
“Well, after a few weeks, I made some friends. They made it bearable. Soon I wasn’t falling in crap or breaking bones; I was doing well.”
“Bet you had all the ladies falling at your feet when you got back home!” Harris laughed. Angus’s cheeks pinked slightly as he ducked his head. Harris’s smile was wide as he nudged the other boy with his elbow before pulling an apple from his pocket and biting into it with a wet crunch.
Ailsa pursed her lips and appraised the prince. “You actually know how to use that sword then?”
Instead of answering, Angus drew the weapon, flipping it into the air in one smooth motion. He caught it behind his back and bowed to her with a flourish. It was impressive given the incline, if a bit showy.
“Not just a pretty face.” He winked.
“Doesn’t mean you can actually use it,” Ailsa grumbled, walking ahead. Perhaps she had underestimated him; he was clearly able to look after himself. If Harris had Angus, why did she need to be here? Had Harris realised she couldn’t defend him? Was this his way of getting some real muscle without hurting her feelings?
Angus’s eyes fell on the weapon at her side.
“I bet you can use that axe.” He reached towards it but dropped his hand at Ailsa’s low growl. With a chuckle, he asked, “What is it called?”
“What is it called?” repeated Ailsa skeptically. She heard Harris snorting a laugh behind her but refused to acknowledge him.
“Yeah. What have you named it? I call my sword Saighdear-Saorsa, Freedom Fighter.” He hoisted his sword again, allowing the light to illuminate the inscriptions on the blade. “If Eilanmòr is ever in danger, I can use it to defend my country.” He returned the weapon to his belt. “So, what do you call yours?”
Ailsa fought hard to keep her annoyance under control.
“The axe is called Axe,” she finally replied.
Angus wisely kept his mouth shut for the next half-hour.
The trio rounded a bend at the bottom of the hill to find another, smaller mound. Ailsa’s muscles throbbed slightly up the incline but she just huffed and kept her head down.
“Well, there’s the road,” Angus remarked once they’d reached the mound’s apex. She lifted her gaze as he pointed off into the distance.
Ailsa sucked in a breath as she scanned the horizon. The vast land that stretched ahead was dizzying. From their vantage point, she could see the glen carried on below them for many miles. The path wound like a grey river as far as their eyes could see. Sparse trees dotted the landscape, but purple and yellow heather dominated.Modest, rolling knolls ran alongside the path but great, jagged mountains bordered the glen, like teeth. Far off, silhouetted between a gap in the bases of the mountain, a thick forest grew like clumps of hair. Ailsa couldn’
t shake the sudden vision that they’d be walking along a tongue into the mouth of a waiting beast.
“How long did you say it would take?” Her voice came out a little shriller than usual.
Pausing for a moment, Harris pulled out a map from his pack.
“Here.” He held it out to her casually as he chucked his apple core off into the bushes.
Ailsa scanned the swirling characters for a moment, chewing her lip, then shoved it back to his chest.
“You do know I can’t read, right?”
Harris’s mouth popped open. “You can’t?”
Angus gave her a pitying look that she itched to wipe off his face. Instead she just shrugged.
“Just when would I have learned?” We weren’t all raised as royalty.
“You mean you can’t read at all?”
She tried her best to rein in her temper and said patiently, “I’ve never really needed to.”
Harris’s head looked like it was about to explode from shock. “You need to now.”
“No, I don’t.” She gritted her teeth. “You can read it to me.”
Angus came to stand in front of her, blocking out the view of the glen. “I can teach you, if you’d like?”
Ailsa glowered as she felt the rage rising in her chest, making her lip curl. “I’m not interested.” He stepped back at her tone, hands up in surrender. She turned her attention back to Harris, who was watching her face, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Just tell me how far I need to walk with the pair of you.”
His brow wrinkled as he studied the map himself. “Five or six days, I think. Then it’s a boat ride over to the Isle of Faodail. That’s where the Stone is hidden.”
“Then we need to get back, of course,” Angus added, and Harris grunted in agreement.
Ailsa nodded and Harris returned the map to his bag, hefting the pack onto his back. With a sigh, he started back down the path.
Five or six days? She groaned inwardly. After adjusting the ties on her own bag, she continued after him, with Angus by her side.
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