Highlander's Embrace

by Amy Isan

  Elyn was silent. Gavin took her silence as unease.

  “And the worst thing is, I feel like I could have stopped it. My father kept trying to pressure me into marrying into the Maxwell Clan. For power and an army.”

  As the words sunk in her expression changed from concern to anger. It made Gavin's heart sink. “Why didnae you?” Gavin was taken aback, he stared at her as she laid into him. “You mean you could have done something to stop this! My parents are probably dead, my sister... maybe worse than that.”

  “That isn’t my fault,” Gavin tried.

  “Gavin MacKenzie, it is your fault. If you had listened to your father, maybe none of this would have happened.” She exhaled sharply and added, “Maybe if your father hadn’t killed the MacDonald's baby...”

  “Donae say that! He didnae do anything like that!” Gavin’s voice was louder than he expected, and he shut his mouth before finishing. Elyn looked a bit frayed, but not dominated.

  She continued, “If he hadn’t slaughtered the baby you were arranged to wed, then none of this would have happened! I donae know why I shouldn’t just blame ye for it all!”

  He snorted. “Fine! Blame me. What good will it do?”

  She shook her head. “Go back and tell them where ye are, where yer headed. Maybe they’ll make a deal, take your head and let my family go if any of them are still alive.”

  His face drained as the words left her mouth. The expression on her face was serious, her eyes giving no sign of her playing a joke. “You’re not bluffing.”

  “I never bluff, Gavin MacKenzie, I think you’ll learn that tonight.”

  He hung his head, but felt a strange tension in his chest. He’d never been threatened like that by a lass before, and it made his emotions surge like the ocean.

  Despite her words, she didn’t move an inch. They continued to ride alongside one another for the next several miles, silence creating a suffocating wall between them.

  Chapter 5: Elyn

  1540 — August 27th

  Elyn was still fuming at Gavin. She threatened to go back to the castle and turn him in, but she had a tugging sensation in heart that stopped her. When he had hung his head in defeat, she almost felt sorry for him.

  But it was his fault, wasn’t it? If he had just listened to his father and done what he said, would they even be in this mess? A twisted part of her tried to console her with the idea she never would have met the son of Angus MacKenzie out in the highlands otherwise. She brushed the thought away with a wave of her hand.

  They were resting at a small loch. While she had been starting a fire, Gavin had waded out in the water, his armor stripped off, and his kilt coiled up his legs. She was amused to see him trying so hard to catch a fish, but doubted if he could actually pull it off. Didn’t Scots hunt on horses, not in the water?

  She sighed as she tried to keep her anger under control. She went to work on tending the fire. A great log had been dragged from a nearby glen and left to rot near the loch. Some drunk clansmen probably thought they could make a boat out of it, at least, that’s what Gavin said. Elyn didn’t have very much experience with such worries.

  She fell to her hands and knees, getting them dirty as she leaned in close to blow on the spark she had started. The spark jumped and caught some blades of grass she had tossed in as kindling, and they lit up and started to glow. She sat back down on her buttocks in satisfaction, crossing her arms and hoping Gavin was appreciating the work she was putting in. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him dive his hands into the water again, cursing when he pulled them up empty for the fiftieth time. She had to admit, he had determination.

  And his body was a sight for sore eyes. She hadn’t seen a man so rugged in a long time, except for the fleeting glances she got of the clans that lived in the castle. Most of the other farming clans had either children who were too young to give a second thought to, or too old to even till the earth. She tried to forget the fluttering feeling her chest picked up when her eyes danced across his wet muscles and skin, the energy threatening to rip itself free if he dared to unleash it.

  The horses were grazing nearby, their whinnying and snorts the only other sound in the small valley except for Gavin’s splashing and the gentle crackle of the fire picking up intensity. After a few minutes and some expertly placed wood, the fire was good to be left alone for a couple hours.

  She stood up and brushed herself off again, and went to the fallen log nearby. She pried a long piece of wood from the rotten husk and examined it. It was slender and she managed to break it off with a pointed tip. Were men this useless all the time? It was a wonder she didn’t starve every winter with his family running things.

  She was mocking him, but she knew it was just her emotions building up. She didn’t want to berate him for the distress her family suffered at the hand of the MacDonalds, but who else could she turn her blame on? Was it her fault for not fighting aggressively enough to get them to move somewhere else? To try and make the farm work? If she had worked harder at tilling the land that spring, could she have stopped all this?

  She hiked up her dress and tied it into a knot at her thighs to keep it from getting wet. The idle thought of removing it crossed her mind, but she kept it to herself. While she had been coy and mischievous with Gavin since they met, she certainly couldn’t have him seeing her naked as she saw him earlier that day.

  And what a fine arse he did have.

  She waded through the water with the stick in hand, catching Gavin’s attention as he reeled up from another failed catch.

  “Here.” She pushed the stick out, forced it into his hands. He took it with a puzzled look on his face, examining it and turning it over.

  He ran his hand up the side and touched the broken tip. “Sharp... that’s good thinking.”

  “I thought ye needed some help. That is, if we’re not gonna starve today.”

  He ignored her attempts at insulting him and turned back to the task at hand, newly armed and ready. She thought of moving back ashore, but she liked being near him, watching him work, his grunts as he thrust his hands into the water. He held the pointed end of the stick down and hovered it with delicate precision above the shimmering surface of the water. In a surprising yell of fury, he thrust the spear down and splashed again, nearly soaking Elyn.

  He pulled the spear up to reveal a fish flopping around on the end, impaled through its gills. He looked at it with surprise and glanced at Elyn.

  She nodded, a selfish smile coming to the surface. “Good.” She held out her hands, not moving a muscle in fear of showing how disgusted she was.

  He scraped the fish off the spear into her hands. “You know how to prepare these?” She recoiled in disgust as the fish flopped in her hand, forcing her to squeeze it tighter. The slippery scales felt disturbing to her, and she could feel it wheeze in her grasp.

  She shook her head. “God, no. I’ve never had fish before.”

  “Take it back to camp and leave it near the fire, I’ll be there shortly to teach you.”

  She turned and started back towards the camp, her legs wading through the water and pushing it aside. When she reached the shore, the horses stared at her.

  “I didnae make that much noise! Calm down!” She swatted at them from afar. She made it back to the campsite and settled down, placing the fish near the campfire. It looked ghastly, its lips still puckering and its spines wiggling desperately. She looked away from it, unable to cope with what she’d have to do next. It was so much simpler to eat bread.

  Gavin returned shortly after the fish gave up and went still. He had another fish speared on the end of the timber, and he knelt down next to Elyn near the fire. His rolled up kilt dripped water onto his hairy feet. She watched as he began to explain how to prepare the fish.

  “You have to...” he took his sword from its sheath. “Descale it, at least that much.” He grunted as he slid the fish against the edge of the blade and stripped the scales off like an apple skin. “Then you just
spear it again and let it cook, the meat is white and flakey. At least, it should be.”

  He picked the fish up by the gills and skewered them mouth to fin on the spear. After he was done impaling them, with blood soaking the wood and dripping down to his hand and wrist, he lowered the end down and held it over the fire, slowly twisting his wrist every once in a while.

  “That donae look too hard... ” Elyn said. She still felt a bit ill from watching the fish die in the first place. The blood glistening on Gavin’s hand between his thumb and finger was a little much, and she reached over and wiped it off with a bit of grass. He looked at her in surprise as she touched him, until he realized what she was doing. He let out a low chuckle.

  “What? I can’t handle the sight of that... it’s...”

  His smile vanished as he followed her train of thought. “Donae worry about it. I’m sure your family is fine.”

  “Yours isn’t. Ye cannae say that like ye know. Ye just cannae.”

  He twisted the wood spear a bit more, letting the fish sear. The flames licked the meat, boiling the blood into the wood of the stick, the descaled flesh turning brown and dark as the heat soaked into them. The smell was beginning to make Elyn's mouth water.

  “That smells delicious...”

  Gavin pulled the fish back toward him and prodded one with a finger. “Almost done. They’ll be a bit firm when they’re ready,” he explained. Elyn nodded. Watching this rugged Scot cook for her set a fire burning inside her. She looked at the side of his face and admired the stubble that was growing in. If she wasn’t trying to maintain her anger at him, she knew she would have already commented on his looks. She daydreamed for a brief moment of reaching out and touching his cheek, of her fingers grazing that rugged beginning of a beard.

  He glanced at her, and she looked away, back at the fish. She swore she saw a smile tease his lips before it faded again, but it was probably just the delusions of a woman in over her head.

  Not that it was very hard to be over her head. He was the son of Angus MacKenzie, and soon, the Laird of Eilean Donan Castle. There was something inspiring about that thought. She touched her necklace absentmindedly, thinking of what it could feel like to be someone important.

  “Here,” Gavin said, pulling her from her reverie. “You should eat first.” He extended the spear, a sizzling fish attached to it. She took the spear without a word and brought the fish to her lips, taking a shameless bite. Gavin seemed to be expectant, and she rolled it around in her mouth and tried to decide if she liked it.

  She swallowed hard and furrowed her brow. “That’s what fish tastes like?”

  “Aye, do you not like it?”

  “I donae see what the fuss is about.” She took another bite, keeping her sublime pleasure to herself. Fish was heavenly and unlike anything she’d ever tasted. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of that. He sighed as she continued chewing, slowly and deliberately, pretending that she was putting up with it. After a moment, she handed the spear back to him so he could start eating his fish.

  “I love fish myself... “ he said, as if that would convince her. She nodded quietly, watching him eat like a savage animal. Her eyes went wide as she watched his teeth and lips gash and gnaw at the catch, his tongue circling the bones like they weren’t even there.

  As he was preoccupied with his meal, she cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes. “I donae understand why ye couldn’t just marry the lass.”

  “Marry her? Katrine?”

  “Aye. I donae get any say in the matter, no man would dare catch me with my arm wrapped in his, let alone married and rearing his children.”

  He shook his head and swallowed another large bite of fish. “I donae see that at all, you’re a lovely lass.” As the words left his mouth, Elyn raised her brow at him.

  “Really?”

  “Aye,” he nodded, turning away for a moment, keeping the fish just out of reach. Elyn eyed the fish and thought of snatching the spear back from him when he was unguarded. A good game perhaps, to keep him on his toes.

  “You’re just sayin’ that,” she replied. “I’m just the only lass out in the highlands.”

  “Nay, I mean it.” He pointed the spear at her, which took her aback for a second. She feigned fear that he was going to jab her, before realizing he simply meant to hand her the meal. Her face burned with red as she sheepishly took it, holding it up and stealing another bite of her fish. As she sank her teeth into it, she noticed his was completely devoured already.

  As she pulled away, she rolled a piece of gristle around in her mouth, pushing it with her tongue. She fished her finger in and pulled it out, tossing it on the fire and watching it vanish.

  Gavin laughed at the spectacle, slapping his knee and rocking in his cross-legged seat. Elyn frowned at his clear enjoyment of her distaste.

  She stood up and threw another log on the fire, coaxing it to feast as they were. It was going to be a long night, and a cold one too. Gavin had said they couldn’t keep a fire going at night, since it was pretty much asking for trouble from any roving MacDonald clansmen that might be searching for the missing Laird of Eilean Donan Castle. As she leaned back onto her buttocks, she glanced at him and saw him staring intently into the flickering and crackling flame.

  “That’ll probably be the last log for the day, can’t risk it being too strong tonight.”

  “What about the chill?”

  “I used Elspet to stay warm yesterday, I’m sure Rhys will do you the same honor,” Gavin said, looking over at the horses as he said it. Elyn was disappointed with the answer, expecting something a bit more forward and aggressive from the man she had heard so many stories about, so much gossip in the town about. She supposed he had bigger things on his mind, but perhaps he wasn’t the man she heard of, or the man she thought of when she saw when she caught him tracing his eyes on her body.

  She sighed a little, trying to not let it get to her.

  He cocked his head and moved his hand to her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze as he left his hand there. She felt a unnerving tingle run through her core, lifting her up and making her tremble with excitement. “What’s wrong?”

  As the words left his mouth, she remembered her sister. She shouldn’t be daydreaming of this man’s arms wrapped around her, she should be focused on getting her family help. She brushed his hand off, feeling ill for doing it, before tucking her chin to her chest, pulling her knees up to her and wrapping her arms around them.

  “Why couldnae ye just marry her?”

  He grew silent at the repeated question. She expected as much from him. “My family could be dead for all I know.”

  “At least you donae know,” Gavin said quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It was late afternoon, the sun having ducked behind a mountain, casting a shadow across them and their camp. Soon, the sky would blaze orange and pink, with yellow clouds darting swiftly across the gentle peaks. “I saw my father dead, his throat split in two, blood everywhere.”

  Elyn was silent, she couldn’t imagine her parents in the same predicament. She wondered if Sheena had fought off the man, maybe escaped herself? She couldn’t bear the burden that she could have done something, that she should have turned back and killed the man, finished him off. That might have saved them... it could have saved them.

  “I’m sure your parents are still alive — your sister too,” Gavin finished, his tone sure and voice steady. Elyn shook her head slightly and dug her face into her elbows, fighting back her emotions lest Gavin saw her at her weakest. The thought of this man judging her made her stomach twist.

  He shook his head and looked over at the horses. With a glance to the sky, he sighed and stood up, dropping the spear into the fire to let it burn. Elyn turned her head to watch the fire consume it, upset that he would just dispose of it like trash.

  After a few minutes of quiet, as the crickets and sounds of the night started up, Gavin kicked dirt over the fire and smothered it, ending its flame. Elyn's eyes g
rew misty. She hid her face in the crook of her elbow, incensed and upset.

  He turned to her, his blue eyes showing a fierce kind of determination. “We should get some shut eye before we travel tonight, it’s harder to keep your energy up after the chill sets in.”

  He wandered over to the horses and undid his cloak, swinging it around himself like a blanket again. He lowered himself down and curled up next to Elspet, shutting out Elyn and the highlands all at once.

  She rocked a little in front of the slightly smoking fire. Her mouth moved gently.

  Elyn knelt in front of the dead fire, watching the last curl of smoke rise up out of the suffocated campfire.

  She cast a longing look over at Elspet and her new blanketed offspring, then stood up to her feet and moved next to Rhys. She didn’t have a blanket of her own, just her small shawl. She curled it around her neck and tried to cover up a little.

  A couple of hours of rest would do her good.

  ***

  After the sun had set, the couple hours of darkness seemed to bring the highlands to life, making sleep almost impossible. It seemed to almost vibrate the air it was so intense, not to mention the chill in the air was nigh unbearable without a proper blanket. Rhys was too old and desiccated to provide any warmth save for himself. Elyn shivered and brushed away the chill as if it were a fly, but couldn’t get comfortable again. She sat up and tucked her hands under her arms, Rhys stirring a little as she moved. The way the land sounded in her bed at home was nothing compared to how wild it sounded out in the highlands.

  The moon hung in the sky like a shining jewel. Elyn looked up at it as the highlands echoed in lively chorus. Crickets sang loudly across the plains, the grass shimmered as frosty dew set in with the passing wind. The clouds were only visible as they obscured the thousands of twinkling stars when they passed under them. She turned her head and looked over to Elspet and her master sleeping soundly. At least, she assumed he was — she couldn’t see under his cloak.