by Amy Isan
“It can’t be...” Sheena said, pulling the sheets back over herself. “The Laird would never let that happen! Where is the Laird?”
“Something’s wrong, I donae like this,” Elyn said. “Where are the guards? I donae understand! We have to leave.” She turned from the window and stumbled over the bed. She started throwing anything that wasn’t bolted to the floor onto the bedspread. “We have to leave right now.” She looked at her parents and Sheena, who hadn’t moved. They were curled up in horror, their knees to their chests, their hands cradling their heads. “Aren’t ye listenin’ me?! We hafta go now!”
“Where, Elyn? Where will we go? We have nothing, nowhere, no one to go to!” Sheena sat up in the bed, her face turning red with frustration and anger. Elyn didn’t answer, finishing piling the bed with nearly everything in the house. She brought the corners of the sheet together and tied them into a knot, making a bag. Her face burned, her ears felt hot. She didn’t know what to do, as her stomach twisted on itself.
She looked at her Da. He looked hopelessly defeated. A sigh escaped his lips and he ran a hand through his thinning hair.
“Not ye too, Da? Where’s your fight? Are we gonna just let them kill us?”
Her words made his shoulders drop. “I’m sorry Elyn... your sister is right, we donae have anyone to help us. But God.”
Elyn's Ma clasped her hands together and started praying, her lips moving quickly as she recited the one prayer she knew. Elyn looked at her family, feeling worn down and crushed.
“I can’t stay here, I can’t leave ye all either!”
“Why can’t we hide? What if they donae find us?” Sheena asked, curling back into the bed, the sheets wrapped over her shoulders.
“What if they donae find us? Can’t you see it? They’re torching houses, Sheena!” Elyn gestured out the window, “They donae have to find us, they can just burn us alive!”
Sheena grew silent and squeezed her eyes shut. She rolled over and faced away from Elyn. “Why aren’t you listenin’ to me?!”
Elyn groaned and tip toed to the window and peered out into the flickering darkness. Hundreds of villagers were scattered around, being harassed and attacked by disguised clansmen. Two tall men were talking with each other, laughing over one of the houses as it blazed in red-orange flame. As they parted from each other, the taller man with a messy head of hair grunted and spit on one of the bodies, before slowly turning around and looking into the Douglas’ home.
“Shit!” Elyn cried, clamping her hand over her mouth. She ducked down below the window, unsure if the man had seen her or not.
“What’s happening?” Sheena whispered, her voice sounding weak and trembling.
“Hide!” Elyn scrambled to help her Da and Ma slip underneath a bed, hiding themselves away. She snatched a large iron skillet that was hanging off the fire place and moved to hide behind the door, shushing Sheena to be still and not give her away.
Footsteps outside the front door made Elyn's hair stand on end. She tried to focus on her breathing, trying desperately to see into the darkness and keep her eyes on Sheena. A cough rang through the hard wood, and the handle began to turn. The long-haired clansman peered in through the door after letting it swing open and snorted. He scanned the room before he spotted Sheena, cowering under the covers, fear plastered on her face.
“Looks like I got myself a treat in here,” he said, licking his lips. He unsheathed his sword and advanced on her. Sheena gripped the blanket tighter against her body, before looking over the man’s shoulder and meeting Elyn's gaze.
“Do it now!” Sheena cried out. The man furrowed his brow in confusion, and started to turn as he followed Sheena’s gaze.
Elyn took a step forward from behind the door and brought the iron-skillet down hard on the man’s neck. He dropped his sword and thudded with a satisfying crunch against the cobblestone floor, revealing Sheena’s horrified face on the bed.
Elyn spoke in a loud whisper, “Donae scream! We can’t have another one come in here!”
Another clansmen’s voice came through the door. “Logan? Are you in there? Donae play these games with me...”
“Shit,” Elyn wheezed under her breath. She moved to hide behind the door again, but not before it swung open with an eager force. Another man stood in the doorframe, and his eyes went from Elyn's frozen face to Logan’s crumpled body. His eyes went berserk as he reached out to snatch Elyn.
His dark brown eyes flared with an intense anger, his black hair frazzled. “You bitch!” he screamed at her.
Before he could grab a hold of her, Sheena pushed him against the wooden door, knocking him off balance. Sheena and the man both tumbled to the floor. She tried to regain her bearings and leap up from the ground, but the man was too fast and he grabbed her by the waist.
Sheena yelled, “Elyn! Run!”
Elyn couldn’t move, still frozen with fear. She stared at her sister as the man dug his fingers into Sheena’s arm, making her cry out in pain.
“Get out of here!” Sheena screamed.
With a longing stare, Elyn's feet began to move. She felt detached as she climbed over the man, her sister managing to keep him from grabbing Elyn and stopping her from leaving. She barely had time to look back into the house as the door was swung shut by Sheena’s frenzied thrashing. Elyn sought to get help, hoping someone could help her family before it was too late.
***
There wasn’t a lot of hope outside the cottage. Scattered groups of black-cloaked clansmen were attacking villagers, lighting homes on fire, and spilling blood on the cobbles. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, some piled on top of each other in corners as if they were to be disposed of like trash. As Elyn wandered through the square, a man shouted at her to stop. The chuckle in his breath made her tense up and run faster, ducking into an alley between two houses. After a moment, she saw the two men chasing her rush past.
She breathed a sigh of relief and snuck back out into the square. She tried to keep to the shadows, making her way toward the entrance of the stables. As she moved closer to the gates, she started running again, her adrenaline and hope keeping her from collapsing in exhaustion.
Elyn's emotions shut down as she kept running, away from her home, her family, and out to the stables.
She didn’t know where to go, and she regained her composure with her hand steadying herself on the stall her family’s horse was in. The horse whinnied at her, its black eyes studying her.
Her hands shook as she unlatched the stall and guided him out. He looked visibly disturbed with his frenzied eyes, but at least she could get back to her home in Dornie. That was, if it wasn’t overrun. The food trough brimmed with hay, which made Elyn worry that the horse hadn't eaten his fill all day. She guided him out and, using the wall as a pivot, threw herself on the beast, urging it through the doors and down the hard trail.
The inky blackness of the sky was the only thing that greeted her out there. The orange glow of the flames in the castle square were at her back, making crimson shadows dance in the parched grass that lay between wagon wheel paths and the path to her home.
What am I going to do? Her mind raced and her heart pounded. She ached for some kind of answer, some kind of inspiration. None came to her that night.
***
She arrived back at her home, unable to cope with what she was doing. She kept telling herself that she should have stayed and wrestled the man off her sister. Told her to run instead. Sheena was younger, she was more promising. Sheena was better.
She brushed the thought away as she pushed into her family’s home. Nothing inside. She remembered an old stash of goods she had hidden away since she was a little girl.
She climbed into the ashen fireplace and planted her elbows into the soot. Looking up, she managed to pry loose a brick in the chimney and work it out, dropping it onto her stomach. Inside the hole was a golden necklace, her mother claimed it was hers, but she didn’t know why she’d have a necklace with the initials “EM” on t
hem. Her only possession of any worth. When she was a child, she’d wear it and pretend she was ruler of Eilean Donan Castle, not a lowly clan member who was forced to sit from afar and breathe the air of the lucky few.
On the kitchen table were some discarded scraps of bread loaves from earlier in the day. She gathered them up in her arms and dropped them into a small cloth and tied it closed, before throwing it over her shoulder in a make-shift bag. She slipped the necklace on and hid the amulet under her ashy and sweaty dress.
She thought of her parents, wondering if they were okay. Hopefully still alive, even.
She pushed back out into the night and patted the horse gently. Such a lame beast of burden its whole life, it didn't even have a name. Given to them by another family out of pity more than charity, they never even bothered.
“How about... Rhys?”
The horse snorted, and Elyn took that to mean yes. She climbed on top of Rhys again, and tried to decide what to do. She couldn’t go back to the castle. She would need help. Who could help her?
The King?
That was ridiculous. She barely knew what direction to go to get there. The only other major clans in the area were the MacDonalds, and if they weren’t the ones who just ransacked the castle, who could it have been? Sheena had been talking about the feud between the MacKenzies and them bubbling to the surface after all.
The cold air descending from the highlands seemed to beckon her. A throbbing kind of energy ebbed out in the darkness, almost pushing against her face like wind. If she went out there, she might succumb to the elements. Was that a better fate than facing whatever nightmare was happening back at Eilean Donan Castle? The thought tensed her neck, setting her jaw on edge. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the image of her family being hurt, or worse.
Without a real choice in her hands, she ushered Rhys down the path toward the castle. Halfway there, she veered him off to the east, taking him up a gentle slope and beyond the barrier into the highlands.
The darkness seemed to swallow everything whole. The further she got from the intimidating glow of the fires in the castle, the darker it became, until she broke free of the glare of the castle and the moon filled out the land before her.
Without a real direction, she headed northeast, towards the mountains on the horizon. With a little luck, she hoped to make it there in the next day or two.
She didn’t even know how many days it took to get the Castle Iverlochy.
Chapter 4: Gavin
1540 — August 26th
The chilled wind numbed him. His raging mind seared with thoughts of revenge, of justice and most importantly, guilt. If Elspet hadn’t become restless and exhausted, Gavin knew he could have driven himself to his grave. He finally slowed his steed as the sun crested over the mountains, deciding it was time to try and rest. If there were any men hunting for him, he knew he couldn’t travel for very long during the day, lest he get caught out in the open.
He was well trained in combat, but that didn’t mean he would be able to fend off a battalion of mad men looking to kill him. As he stripped the saddle from Elspet, he stretched his aching muscles, squeezing and massaging his sore shoulders in turn. He found a small rock outcropping that offered some shade, and climbed underneath it.
While it was cool in the mornings, he knew the highlands were not a place to judge at first sight. It might be refreshingly cool for one moment, but a storm could kick up at anytime, threatening to blind him with dust, cut him with freezing cold rain, or finish him off with sweltering heat.
He snapped his cloak off with the twist of his wrist and let it drop to the thick grass. Elspet was nearby, feeding on some especially luxurious looking tufts. He admired her as she ate, her strong muscles, her loyalty. He would let her eat for a while, but when he decided to turn in it would be just as important to hide her. The highlands held no allies or grudges.
He chuckled a little at the idea. Even as he crossed the highlands to try and secure safety and solace from the King, the highlands themselves were an obstacle in his path. She didn’t help him, but She didn’t betray him either. She was neutral. She didn’t care about the people killing each other, the petty fights and attitudes they carried. While all the Lairds and Kings claimed they ruled her, even Gavin knew it was a farce. No one could tame such majesty. Maybe that was the point, it was like a feisty lass on a summer’s eve, he never knew if she’d slap him across the face or beg for him to grope her supple rump.
The thought of a blonde or red haired lass stroking his chest, needing him like he needed her; the same yearning he had when he looked over the moors. Almost a sense of envy for their fierceness. That was something all right, an idea and image he could dream of.
Maybe how his people needed him right now. Someone to lead them and bring them justice.
Of those people, he thought of the lass in the castle square. He hoped she was okay, as ridiculous as it was to worry about someone who he had only seen. He never got her name, and he never got to take her hand in his and brush his lips against her fair skin.
He decided that would be the first thing he’d try to do when he got back. It was the only comfort he could give himself. He refused to let the idea of her already being killed cross his mind, to pollute his mood.
Elspet neighed quietly, nudging her head against Gavin’s hand. He rubbed her face absentmindedly, lost in thought.
“Alright, let’s get some shut eye.” He nodded to her. He lowered himself to the ground and patted the earth, urging her to settle down and try to sleep. She folded her legs and went down, tucking her head under the shade of the outcropping. Gavin was one of the best horse trainers in the the castle, no one could dispute that. Not even Alec.
Gavin slipped underneath the outcropping and pulled his cloak up over his legs and chest. He gave one last look around the area before letting exhaustion finally grip him and take him from his waking nightmare.
***
A howling wind startled Gavin from his sleep. He opened his eyes and sat up to face the storm as it settled down on the highlands. Elspet was awake and neighing loudly, digging her hooves against the grass and bucking. The wind whipped the grass that covered the land in waves, shimmering like a frothing ocean. The sky was dark with malice, and lightning cracked the sky, splitting the mountains like they were nothing. The highlands were awake, and Gavin wasn’t a concern.
He quickly donned his cloak again and crawled out of the outcropping. He managed to wrestle an arm over Elspet, reining her in and calming her. He whispered gently to her, her large eyes watching him.
“It’s okay! Donae worry!” He patted the ground again and climbed back under the outcropping. She settled down as close to cover as possible. Gavin knew it wasn’t going to be enough. He had to do something for Elspet.
But what could he do? He took his cloak off and wrapped it over the horse's withers. He knew the highlands were tempestuous, but also that her outbursts never lasted long.
Rain started to fall, forcing itself under the shelter and onto his neck as the wind pushed it almost horizontal. He was unprotected from the elements, and dread set in as the cold, water started to soak through his clothes and kilt, chilling his skin. He knew that if he couldn’t get out of the storm and get dry, he wouldn’t be making it to Castle Iverlochy. At least, if he did, he wouldn’t be living very long afterwards.
He tried to think, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. The wind made the grass sing and howl with fury, the rain falling in giant sheets. Small streams of water cascaded down his face and chest.
Leaving the cloak on Elspet, he moved toward the back of the outcropping and started digging. The ground was muddy and claylike, forcing itself under his fingernails, but soon gave way to dry earth. He kept pushing forward, carving out a respectable hole. He took his clothes and jerkin off as quickly as he could and tossed them into the hole before covering it back up. Naked and exposed, he moved toward Elspet, who eyed him with concern and worry.<
br />
He took the cloak and swung it around his naked body, before curling up in a ball and snuggling up against Elspet. Her beating heart and heaving breath were gentle against him, her body giving off enough heat for the both of them.
He braved out the storm as best as he could.
***
He woke up later that day. The sun was shining as if the land had forgotten all about the storm, the only evidence left was the dew on the grass. The heat baked him under his cloak like a log thrown into a burning hearth. He shook his head and stood up, letting the cloak crumple at his feet. He looked around across the highlands and saw nothing to be concerned of, no roving bandits mucking about. He crawled back under the outcropping and opened the hole, pulling out his damp clothes. They were not nearly as soaked through as he expected them to be. The inside of the earth was moist, but not saturated.
He dragged his clothes and jerkin out and laid them on top of the rock, making sure the sun was drying them out as effectively as possible. He swung his cloak around his waist and fashioned a knot with the top half, covering his lower body in a kind of mock-kilt. He beamed as he stared over the horizon, feeling satisfied with his quick thinking before he was ruined.
Elspet stood up, her legs a bit shaky with how long she had laid there. Gavin moved to try and help her, pushing his strong arms under her ribs to try and keep her balance until she could stay standing on her own again. After a few brief moments, she neighed and shook her head, whipping his face with her withers. He chuckled, wiping the water off his cheek.
He nodded and hopped up onto the outcropping, letting his legs dangle and try to fend off the pins and needles that assaulted them. His stomach growled with aching fury and he lamented the idea of trying to get more food when there seemed to be nothing but grass for miles in every direction. He remembered spying a small lochan on the ride up, and he dreamed for a moment of jumping into the cool water and snatching some fish up to eat.
He hadn’t gotten very much rest with the storm pelting him, so he crawled back under the outcropping and tried to get some shut eye and let his mind wander. He half day-dreamed about meeting the King and returning to Eilean Donan Castle with hundreds of soldiers, ready to take back what was rightfully his.