by Barbara Bard
“I want ye tae know that the invitation stands, if ye change ye mind.”
“I shall consider it, if I return,” Alastar said.
He and Blair nodded to each other, then returned to their seats and finished their breakfasts. Alastar was glad that he was not being shunned for being a lone warrior, and that he was being shown great hospitality. He had heard from his father stories about how the clans were plagued with infighting and rivalries, but it seemed as though the hostilities with the English had brought them together, uniting them against a common foe.
That was something that Lord Flynn wouldn't have counted on, and it was likely that the English would live to regret it, for a united Scotland was a formidable force, and if they ever turned their full might onto England the Highlanders could well run rampant.
For the rest of the day Alastar prepared to leave. He made sure the horse was well rested and ready to go out again he had formed a bond with this horse and didn't want another. He gathered some food and water to ensure that they had enough to last them, although he hoped they wouldn't be riding for too long. If he knew Lord Flynn as well as he thought he did, then the English army was well into the Highlands by now, and he would be driving them hard.
He also gathered a couple of dark cloaks for he and Rebecca to wear so that they could blend into the darkness. His plan was to strike at night, when most of the army would be asleep, exhausted from a hard day's march. The Highlands weren't hospitable to enemy forces either. The roads were long and winding, and it was easy to get lost.
It was late afternoon by the time Alastar and Rebecca were ready to leave.
“Are ye ready, lass?” he asked. She nodded, although he noticed some tension in her face. She was evidently nervous, but she wasn't going to show it. He wasn't going to disrespect her by asking her to stay behind. Fear was something to be conquered, and she had made it clear that she wanted to conquer hers.
By the time they were ready to leave, people had heeded the call to arms that Blair had issued and were arriving. Huge wagons appeared on the field outside the castle, and other Highland clans were greeting each other with much excitement. They were loud and brash and were making comments about how they had to fight back the English threat again. Not all of them knew the details about the current threat, but they soon would, and they were all eager to spill the blood of the old enemy.
Alastar had never been among so many people, and it was a sharp contrast to the life he had known with his parents. He had always been proud of his heritage as a Highlander and seen it as his duty to protect the people of the Highlands, but he it had always been a solitary pursuit. For the first time in his life he was realizing that he was a part of something bigger, and that there wasn't necessarily anything wrong with that.
“There are so many of them,” Rebecca gasped.
“Aye.”
“We have to succeed Alastar, we can't let all these people die,” she said with fierce determination. Alastar nodded. He made the final adjustments to the horse and led it through the throng of people. He still wasn't entirely sure that bringing Rebecca was the right thing to do, but she was set on it and there was no changing her mind now.
She stayed close to him though, for some of the Highlanders frightened her. There was still much she had to get used to.
There was a huge yell behind him. Alastar assumed it was for someone else, but then he heard footsteps thumping along the ground towards him. He turned, almost expected a threat, only to a see a huge mountain of a man standing in front of him.
“Ye're him, aren't ye?” he said, a look of wonder in his eyes.
“Who?” Alastar asked.
“The Blue Thistle! I would know that armor anywhere. I thought ye hae died. Och, I knew naething could kill the Blue Thistle! Ye are the greatest swordsman ever. The tales are legendary! It is an honor tae meet ye. My name is Mont,” the man said, taking Alastar's forearm, shaking it firmly. Alastar smiled.
“Thank ye, it is an honor tae meet ye tae.”
“The English stand nae chance, nae when we hae the Blue Thistle!” Mont said then turned around and ran through the crowd, yelling at the top of his lungs that the Blue Thistle was in the fight. Alastar shook his head in disbelief and smiled at the gesture, not thinking much of it, when suddenly there was a huge roar and cheer as people celebrated the news.
Alastar turned and looked at the Highlanders applauding him, cheering him on. They chanted for him, and he was deeply moved by the gesture.
“I cannae believe it,” he said as he led the horse to the edge of the field and helped Rebecca onto its back, before straddling it himself.
“You are their hero,” Rebecca said, eyes glistening with tears, for she was touched by the reception as well.
“Nae, my father is. This is for him, and all the good work he did in his life. But I shall make them cheer for me. The Blue Thistle lives again!” he cried as he turned the horse away from the castle and rode away towards his destiny. He knew that the Highlanders must have known that he wasn't the first Blue Thistle, but they accepted him without question. That meant more to Alastar than any of them would ever know. He had taken up his father's mantle, and he had been deemed worthy of it. Now the only thing left to do was to finish what had begun so many years ago, and then he could begin his new life with Rebecca.
Chapter 32
Their cloaks flapped in the wind as they rode. Rebecca had been quite emotional upon hearing the cheers of the Highlanders for the Blue Thistle. She knew that Alastar was a hero, but she also knew that he didn't quite see it himself. He was always lost in his father's shadow, and she hoped now he could finally begin to escape it.
Her heart beat frantically as she clung to Alastar. There was no turning back now, and although she had pleaded with Alastar to go with him, she had to admit that she was feeling trepidation. In her life so far, she had always been taught to run from danger, not to face it, but Alastar and the circumstances of their meeting had had a dramatic effect on her.
First, she had seen how far Catherine and the other English women were willing to go for their freedom and their happiness. The Highlanders had a reputation for being fierce warriors, but in Rebecca's eyes the English girls were just as fierce when they were given the opportunity to fight. And then, with what Lord Flynn tried to do to her, she realized that she needed to know how to defend herself. Alastar wasn't always going to be there to save her.
The thought of seeing that cruel man again filled her with dread, but she wasn't going along for that. She was going along for Elayne, the friend who had betrayed her. If Elayne hadn't entered Lord Flynn's chambers when she did Alastar would have killed Lord Flynn, and none of this would be happening, and she and Alastar could live in peace.
They had been riding for a few hours and still there was no sign of the English army, so Alastar suggested they take some rest. They had some food. It was early in the evening, and Rebecca's stomach had started to rumble.
“Dae ye ken what ye are gonnae dae when ye see Elayne?” Alastar asked.
Rebecca considered her response, for she had not settled on one course of action yet.
“The only thing I know for sure is what I won't do. I will not kill her,” she said.
“Ye dinnae think I should kill Flynn, dae ye?”
Rebecca pressed her lips together. “I don't think it's the only way, as you seem to believe. But I understand why you would want to kill him.”
“It is nae just for my father. It is for the good of all the Highlands. Lord Flynn has been a plague tae us all his life. We are always in danger. Men like him should nae be allowed tae live. He hae killed and punished innocent men without any remorse. The world will be a better place without him in it,” he said.
Rebecca didn't say anything in response. She had been taught to be a good moral girl, but the Highlanders had a different way about them. Death was not the taboo subject it was for her, and as far as Alastar saw it, he was doing the world a favor.
Perhaps he was right, she thought. It wasn't as though Lord Flynn could be taken prisoner. If he was captured by the Highlanders his army would come to rescue him. There could be no end to the fighting while Lord Flynn was alive, and there was nothing Rebecca could do to change that.
Their respite was only brief, and they quickly got underway again. The trusty horse showed no sign of fatigue as the branches whipped by, for they were moving through the cover of forest, unwilling to travel straight down the road in case they ran into Lord Flynn's army.
Rebecca didn't know how Alastar was going to know where he was supposed to meet the army. It seemed to her it was blind luck, but he had a sense about these things that she couldn't comprehend, like with the plant that saved the boy from fever. She would never have known to look for that plant, and she was truly amazed at all Alastar could do.
She looked forward to him teaching her when this was all over.
They rode as fast and hard as they could for some time, until Alastar suddenly brought the horse to a trot. Breath caught in Rebecca's throat as she scanned the surrounding area, looking for Lord Flynn's army.
“I can't see them,” Rebecca said in a whisper.
“They will be near. If Lord Flynn hae been driving them as hard as I think then we should run intae them soon,” he said. Rebecca's body went rigid with tension and a cold chill traveled down her back.
The time for their personal war had almost arrived.
“Of course, they may hae been delayed by things such as a broken wagon wheel,” Alastar said, thinking out loud. They moved forward slowly, peering through the gaps in the trees for sign of any scouts. They kept their ears peeled for the sound of an army, but all was still and quiet. Then, suddenly, Rebecca heard what sounded like the rumbling of distant thunder.
“There they are,” Alastar said with glee. He turned the horse and rode back the way they came. “I know where they are gonnae camp for the night,” he added.
Rebecca wasn't of a military mind, so she did not know the importance of resting and keeping supply lines together. Alastar explained to her that a force the size of Lord Flynn's army couldn't afford to hide in the woods. They would need a large area to keep everything together, and there were only a few suitable spots.
The two of them remained hidden as they watched the scouts ride past. Rebecca stifled a gasp, sure that they would be seen, but the scouts were riding so fast they failed to take proper care in searching the surrounding area, and only gave it a cursory glance. Rebecca and Alastar, with their dark cloaks, blended into the shadows of the forest.
The scouts stopped when they reached the field and sounded a horn. The rest of the army trundled along the road in a seemingly endless procession of wagons and carts. The sheer number of men in the army boggled Rebecca's mind, and she knew that if they failed, the Highlanders stood no chance.
They had to wait an age for the army to finally stop. The wagons and carts were led onto the fields, and the men began erecting tents. It felt strange for Rebecca to sit there and watch them go about their business, none of them having any knowledge that there were two hunters waiting to prey on them.
“When do we move?” Rebecca asked, still whispering even though there was little chance they would be discovered. The army was intent on making camp and were making a great deal of noise. Lord Flynn was evidently confident that they were not going to be attacked here.
“We wait until nightfall, when they are sleeping,” Alastar said.
The wait was excruciating for Rebecca. With each moment that passed she was sure that something was going to give them away. Alastar was the picture of calm though, and nothing seemed to faze him. He had been taught well and would not do anything to jeopardize their position.
Rebecca watched the English soldiers share food, and it reminded her of the scenes outside the castle of the McCalls. The two sides had much in common, and it broke her heart to think that so many of them could be marching to their death, and why? All because a petty Lord wanted to indulge his hatred for the Highlanders.
So far, she hadn't seen any sign of Elayne or Lord Flynn, and she presumed that the two of them were in a wagon somewhere, enjoying the benefits of privacy while the common soldiers did all the hard work. The thought of the two of them together sickened her. Elayne had spent her life trying to reclaim her position of privilege, and now she had finally achieved her goal, but at such a cost.
“Are ye well, lass?” Alastar asked, evidently noting her distress. She shook her head.
“I am annoyed at myself for ever thinking that I could have been friends with Elayne. She has deceived me so awfully, and I know that it was because of my bad judgment. I should have known that she would do something like this. I should have been more careful.”
“Ye should nae blame yerself, lass. Ye are a kind, trusting soul, and the world needs more people like ye. Sadly, there are those like Elayne who would take advantage of ye. Ye cannae let her have her way.”
“I won't, and I will make her regret her actions. What are we going to do? How are we going to get inside the camp?”
“We wait until most of them are sleeping. We sneak past the guards. It will nae be hard tae find Flynn-”
“-And where Flynn is, I'm sure we'll find Elayne as well.”
Alastar nodded. “I shall challenge him tae a duel, and ye can dae what ye like with Elayne. I shall kill him, and then the English will know that they cannae meet the might of the Highlanders. Without their leader they will flee back tae England, and we can return tae the McCalls with good news.”
“Do you really think he will agree to duel you?”
“His honor will make him. If we find ourselves in trouble ye must promise me that ye will flee tae safety. Get tae the horse and make ye way back tae the McCalls if ye can.”
“Where will you be? I am not going to leave you,” Rebecca said desperately.
“I dinnae want tae see ye die lass. I will fight the English off tae give ye a chance tae escape,” Alastar said. From his tone it was clear that he meant every word, and as much as he wasn't able to argue against her coming, she was unable to argue against this. She bowed her head submissively, then placed her hand on his, squeezing it tightly.
“Then we shall make sure that nothing separates us. Remember, you are the Blue Thistle, and you can do the impossible.”
Alastar smirked and pressed his lips together, then their gazes turned back to the English army, waiting and watching like hawks, readying themselves for the moment in which they would strike and take their destinies into their own hands.
Chapter 33
To see the English having gathered an army of this size was somewhat daunting to Alastar. He had no doubt that, if they met in the heat of battle, the Highlanders could emerge triumphant, now that they had been warned to expect the enemy. But he was just one man, and if things didn't go the way he planned he would be meeting his certain death. The Blue Thistle was capable of many things, but he could not take on that many men.
He was pinning his hopes on the fact that Lord Flynn would be eager to duel him and would not simply throw him to his men for punishment. The closer he grew to the time of judgment the more doubt he felt, but he was not going to rid himself of his convictions now. He thought of the way the Highlanders had cheered for him, and he wanted to prove them right.
The wait was interminable, but slowly and surely the sun drifted across the sky and relinquished its celestial throne to the silver moon. The stars came out and twinkled above, a glittering patchwork of sparkles against an inky black sky. A few dark clouds drifted across, blotting out stars here and there, but the moon was bright, and campfires were peppered across the field, providing light.
The noise caused by the army had dwindled as many of them were getting well-earned rest. Alastar imagined that their legs would be aching after all the marching, and most of them would be sound asleep within minutes. But he had to wait until he had a clear path. The shadowy forms were still murmuring together, sha
ring food and ale before they turned in for the night.
Soon enough, only the watchmen were on guard, still awake. Alastar tugged at Rebecca's sleeve and handed her a knife he had been carrying in his boot. He wasn't going to let her go in without a way to defend herself.
His blood pumped through his body and his heart beat frantically. This was what he lived for. This is why he thrived. He moved through the forest, slipping through the gaps between the trees. His movements were careful. He whispered for Rebecca to follow his footsteps so that she wouldn't alert them by breaking sticks and branches that had fallen to the floor.
They kept crouched down and moved as one, swift and deadly, coming up behind the man on patrol. He was standing still, head bowed. Alastar could tell that he was just as tired as the rest of them, and he was unable to do his duty well. Before the man could make a sound Alastar wrapped his thick arms around the man's neck and squeezed tightly. The guard slapped his hands against Alastar's arms, but they did not relent. Alastar held him tightly until the Highlander felt the strength seep out of the Englishman. Alastar choked the air out of him, and then gently lowered the body to the floor.