Highland Trails of Love

by Barbara Bard

  The water turned a dirty black color, so Rebecca carried the pail back to the well, intending to continue with washing the windows to make them sparkle and gleam as the light from the sun struck them. She was in the middle of carrying the pail when she heard a commotion. People ran through the courtyard. Windows were flung open.

  “Lady Flynn has gone!” the call came. Rebecca stopped in her tracks. Sweat beaded at her temples. The pail of water suddenly seemed heavier than usual and she felt faint. Her face paled and her lips tightened for it had finally happened. The discovery had been made, and it was only a matter of time before they realized that Declan had escaped as well, and then they would be coming to ask her questions.

  The greatest test Rebecca had ever faced was upon her, and she only hoped that she would be able to endure it without suffering. She thought of the scars on George's back and could almost feel the pain on her own. Then she thought of the man she had help escape, the one who had been in the dungeon for years. She also thought about the people George had talked about, the ones who had been hanged.

  None of their fates seemed like something Rebecca could endure. She had become entangled in this mess through no fault of her own, and Lady Flynn wasn't even here to help her!

  The thunder of hooves echoed through the air as a heavy wagon rolled out of the estate. It was black and foreboding, and the guards it carried had a determined, malevolent look in their eyes. Rebecca was afraid then, not just for herself, but also for the people she helped escaped, for surely, they would be captured.

  Chapter 3

  Alastar began to consider his next plan of action. The temptation to simply flee was ever present in his mind, but he never seriously considered it. Anger and resentment had been festering inside him for too long. He couldn't leave the estate, not after the treatment he had suffered at the hands of Lord Flynn, and not when he knew the lord was planning a war against his people. He was finally free, and he could finally make a difference again.

  It felt good to have a weapon back in his hands, and he was glad that his skills had not deserted him. He had been training from a young age, had had a sword thrust in his hand as soon as he could walk, and though his reflexes were a little rusty, he felt more like himself again. The first thing he did was use it to cut away his beard. It was long and thick, and took a lot of hacking, but eventually he was left with a stub. A proper shave would have to wait until later. This would have to do for now.

  Patience was a virtue Alastar had developed in great abundance during his imprisonment. He knew the fate that awaited Lord Flynn, and that he would be the one to deliver a grisly death to the English lord. It would just be a matter of time.

  “I will be coming for ye,” Alastar muttered under his breath, then took his eyes away from the estate and looked at the path ahead.

  He investigated the body that was left, wrapping a cloak around his body, and sheathed his sword. He checked the pockets and pulled out a few silver coins, flicking one of them in the air and catching it, smiling. Robbing bad men never gave Alastar a guilty conscience.

  After pocketing the money, he looked at the dead man.

  “What shall I dae with ye?” he asked. There was nobody else around, and nobody had witnessed the murder. The other horses would no doubt return to the estate. It wouldn't do any harm to leave this body out here. It wasn't as though anyone could link the body to him anyway. Sadly, there were only two people that cared about him enough to even suspect him, Lord Flynn and the girl that rescued him.

  Ah yes, thinking about her gave Alastar a pleasing feeling. A smile curled on his lips. She had been the only person to show him any kindness during his imprisonment. There had been many people who came down to piss on him and taunt him, but they had soon grown bored. Rebecca had always brought him food. Without her he was sure that he would be dead.

  He owed her his life.

  During his time in the dungeon he had barely spoken to her for it seemed pointless. There was no sense in losing himself to a pretty face, and a beautiful girl like her was never going to be taken in by a prisoner like him. He could sense the fear on her every time she came down into the dungeon, and yet she kept coming. She was a brave one, and she had proven that again by helping them escape.

  Whistling a merry tune, he walked along the path away from the scene of the crime, smiling to himself at the thought of what was to come. Catherine and Declan had managed to get away clean, and he was free to take his revenge. Everything was coming apart for Lord Flynn. He'd lost his son and his daughter, and soon he would lose his life.

  Alastar walked for a little while until he came to a small inn. There was a sign hanging above the door, which creaked a little as the morning breeze fell against it. There were a few animals out in the front, and some horses that were stabled. It seemed quiet, which was exactly what Alastar needed at the moment.

  He walked in confidently, knowing that those who aroused suspicion were those who acted suspiciously, and went straight up to the bar. As soon as he entered, he cast a quick look around. There were two men sitting at a table in the corner, while a portly woman stood behind the bar. She held a cloth and was wiping the bar down. She smiled at Alastar as he entered, but then quickly turned and yelled at her son.

  “Will you get out there and tend to the pigs?!” she shouted. Alastar watched as a dog shot out from behind the bar, followed by a kid, who was just a runt. They hurtled past Alastar and out of the door at breakneck speed. The woman shook her head.

  “Greetings traveler, what can I get for you?” she asked.

  “I'd like some breakfast if ye have any, and a wee drink,” he said, “and perhaps a smile.” He flashed her one of his own. Usually charm was a way to overcome any difficulties. It was a tactic he had relied on a lot, and he hoped that he could still put it to work.

  The woman's eyes darted towards him when she heard the accent, but she didn't seem scared.

  “I can do you some bread and cheese, perhaps an egg if my son comes back in soon,” she shouted towards the door. Her son didn't reply. “Would you like a drink, too?”

  “I would indeed. Give me ye best recommendation,” Alastar said, leaning against the bar. “I'm Alastar,” he said. The woman eyed him suspiciously.

  “Mabel,” she replied. She moved to the end of the bar, pulled a mug from a shelf above her, and then took a bottle from behind her. She poured out the liquid, which was dark. “I always think that the mornings are never a time to make a mind muddled, so I hope you weren't hoping for ale,” she said, then put the mug in front of him.

  Alastar took a sip and puckered his lips. It had something of a tart taste but was pleasing to his palette. It was certainly better than the water he had been given over the years.

  “We don't get many of you folk around here. Aren't you taking a bit of a chance?” she asked.

  “And what dae ye mean by that lass?” he asked, keeping his tone light and his words jovial.

  “You know very well what I mean,” she said sharply. “I don't want any trouble here.”

  “Ye'll nae get any from me, I swear it tae ye. A man hae tae make a living somehow, what better way than tae come tae the land of opportunity?”

  Mabel did not seem convinced. “I'd be careful if I were you. People still don't look too kindly about your kind. You'd do well to keep your head down.”

  “I've always been good at getting myself out of scrapes,” Alastar said, “but I take ye advice kindly,” he said.

  “If you take a seat, I'll bring over your food.”

  Alastar nodded to her and left a couple of coins on the bar. As he turned, he noticed the two men in the corner of the room looking at him. He kept a wary eye on them as he took a seat of his own and waited for Mabel to bring out his food.

  She brought him a plate of bread and cheese, which he took his time eating, wanting to savor it. This was his first meal as a free man, and he wanted to properly enjoy it.

  The bread was light and flavorful. The cheese was
tender and creamy, just the way he liked it. His belly was soon full, but where was he going to go next? It felt as though he had been left behind by the world, and he would have to be careful not to give himself up when he eventually confronted Lord Flynn.

  While he was sitting there, he heard some movement behind him. Mabel was cleaning the bar, getting ready for the swell of people that would come later in the day. An instinct in Alastar's gut twitched. His feel for danger hadn't deserted him, and he was sure that these men meant harm to him. He dropped his hand below the table and rested it on the hilt of the sword, ready to draw. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the men's feet against the floor, of their breathing, how it was sharp and frantic. They were definitely planning something.

  A shadow fell over him as the men came up behind him. Alastar tensed, ready to draw his sword, but he was surprised to see them move beyond him. They went to the bar.

  “Can I get you another?” Mabel asked. The men looked at each other. Alastar didn't like their silence. Neither did Mabel. She reached down below the bar, but as she did so, the gloved hand from one of the men shot out and grabbed her hair. He pulled it and slammed her head against the bar.

  “Give us your money,” the other one snapped. He drew a knife, which gleamed. Alastar bowed his head and breathed in deeply, thinking about what to do next. He could just let them get away with it, but that didn't speak to his character. And there was the kid to think about. He heard the door creak. It opened and Alastar saw the boy peer through the opening. Alastar tried to catch the boy's attention, to warn him to stay away, but the boy saw his mother being threatened and yelled like an animal. He burst into the room and ran towards the men, the shaggy black dog following soon after.

  The dog came up, all snarling and snapping jaws, but was kicked away by the man holding the knife. The same man reached down and picked up the kid, holding the knife to the boy's head. To his credit, the boy wasn't scared. He was filled with anger, and his jaw snapped as violently as the dog's.

  The dog whimpered as it shook off the pain and got to its feet. It saw that the boy was in danger and bared its teeth.

  “Now then, give me the money or I'll cut off your boy's ear. And if you still don't give me the money, I'll cut off his nose, and I'll keep cutting him up until you can put him in a stew.”

  Mabel whimpered and pleaded for mercy, but it was clear these men weren't going to give her any. Without any hesitation Alastar stood up, kicking the chair from underneath him in one smooth motion, the legs scraping against the stone floor. Alastar folded his arms in front of his chest, staring directly at the men.

  “This is none of your business. You can just keep going. We only want the money,” the man with the knife said. He seemed to be the more talkative of the two.

  “I cannae dae that lad,” Alastar said. The men looked scrawny, with a desperate look in their eyes. Their teeth were yellowed, and their skin was dirty. “Put them down and gae about ye business.”

  “This is our business. If you come any closer, we'll hurt you.”

  Alastar stifled a laugh at that. He'd fought knights. A couple of petty thieves like this would be easy for him, but he was more worried that they'd lash out at the child.

  “Aye, I'm sure ye would, ye being a strong man and all, threatening a mother and her child. Come here and fight a real man,” Alastar said. As he did so he reached to his hip and drew his sword. It gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the window. The men gulped, suddenly aware that they had gotten more than they bargained for. They exchanged a look between themselves, one where they asked themselves if the money Mabel had was really worth all this hassle.

  Alastar decided to make the decision for them. He stepped forward and brought the sword back behind his head, ready to strike.

  “Ye can decide which one of ye wants tae die first,” he said, “Or ye can run.”

  The men wisely decided that neither of them wanted to die. They dropped the boy and let go of Mabel, then ran out. The dog scampered after them, barking his own threat. Mabel dusted herself off and leaned against the bar, picking up her son to hug. Alastar sheathed his sword.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Think naething of it. Those men should nae be bothering ye again.”

  “Are you a knight?” the boy asked. Alastar grinned.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “What's your name?”

  “Stephen.”

  “Well Stephen, you were very brave there. You did your mother proud.” The boy beamed. Mabel smiled too. Alastar assumed it had been a while since anyone had shown her kindness. Mabel told Stephen to carry on with his chores. It was just Alastar and Mabel left in the bar now. She still looked a little shaken by the ordeal, but she was doing well to hide it.

  “Dae that happen often?” Alastar asked, perching himself on a stool at the bar.

  Mabel shrugged. “Occasionally, but usually there's enough good folk in here to defend me, and I'm not exactly incapable of defending myself. Usually the morning isn't the time for these robberies.”

  “It is nae. Surprising really.”

  “I think it's all this trouble brewing. First young master Flynn goes off to war and gets himself killed, now there are rumors that his father wants to go off and avenge his son and get his daughter back. Then again, I heard rumors that she returned. Maybe this time she'll stay and his lust for war fade.” Mabel shook his head. “It doesn't stop people from being people though. They're just scared, probably ran away because they didn't want to go to war. We're all desperate for some coin, but there's a right way and a wrong way to go about these things. Now then mister, I don't want to pry, but it's clear to me that you are not here to do business or make a living. What a man does with his life is his own business, especially when you've saved me and my boy, but I want to know right now if there's going to be trouble coming down on me for you being here.”

  Alastar grinned at her. “I am on business actually, but nae the business ye may be thinking of. I should nae think that anyone will look for me here, and I'd appreciate it if ye say ye didn't see me. I am nae a villain.”

  “No, and you have proven that to me.”

  “Can I ask ye a favor?”

  “You may ask.”

  “Dae ye hae a room tae spare?” Alastar asked. Mabel rolled her eyes and sighed. She took a mug and rubbed it vigorously with a cloth. Then she stared at the door, thinking about her son.

  “I might have, but you can understand if I'm a little hesitant to give it to you.”

  “I just need a place tae stay for a few nights. I will be nae trouble, and I'm as quiet as a cat. I just need a place tae rest my head.”

  Mabel considered his request for a few moments. “Only because you helped me. But at the first sign of trouble you can be on your way. I'm not going to court danger for no reason. The room is up the stairs, first door on the right.”

  “This should cover it,” Alastar said, and gave her the rest of the coins he had pilfered from the guards. Her eyes bulged at the amount.

  “This is far too much,” she said.

  “Consider it a goodwill gesture,” he replied.

  “I'm not going to ask you where you got this,” she said, sliding the money into her apron.

  “Ye are a wise woman,” Alastar said. He walked up the stairs and undid his cloak, settling on the bed. He sighed with relief as he felt the aches from his muscles fade. It had been such a long time since he had felt a bed underneath him.

  Chapter 4

  The Flynn estate was a hubbub of activity. Word spread like wildfire about Lady Flynn's disappearance and everyone seemed to have an opinion on it. Rebecca tried to keep to herself as much as possible, not wanting to betray any of the knowledge she held within her heart.

  Rebecca took the pail and made her way across the estate to the far walls, intending to clean all the windows and stay well away from anyone else. However, she had only managed to move a few feet before Elayne rushed up to her.


  “Where are you going? Haven't you heard?” Elayne asked in a hissed whisper.

  “Heard what?” Rebecca said, casting her eyes away, hoping that the crimson flush on her cheeks would not give her away.

  “Lady Flynn has gone! They think she's gone with that Highlander she returned with. Really Rebecca, sometimes I wonder if you're ever paying attention! We must get back to the kitchens.”

  Elayne grabbed Rebecca's hand and tugged at her. Rebecca tried to resist.

  “You go. I must keep on with my duties,” Rebecca said.

  “Oh, forget your duties, this is more important! How many times is this going to happen? I think we can be forgiven for not working just this once. Aren't you curious about this?” Elayne asked and didn't wait for Rebecca to answer. She pulled Rebecca away harshly, and Rebecca did not have the power to resist. She dropped the pail. It fell to the cobbled stone with a clang. Water poured out, flowing in the gaps between the stones. Rebecca's feet skipped away as Elayne led her to the kitchens, a gleam in Elayne's eye.