Chapter 10

The rain had stopped. Ainslee peered fearfully out of the shuttered window, a few stray squints of light coming through a hole in the slats. Pausing, Ainslee glanced quickly back into the darkened room.

No one was stirring, it was just the noise of dreamers turning in their sleep. Ainslee turned back to the window. It was early yet, and no one was awake. Well, almost no one, save her, and one or two of the inn staff.

Down below she saw them, the inn-keeper"s wife, with her large broom, and one of the maids - whom she had running and fetching back and forth.

"Och, this storm has brought down the branches," tutted the woman, her starched coif perched stiffly on her head. In the harsh light of day, Ainslee counted the inn keeper"s wife"s lines. There were many. "An" made such a mess! Come, Norah, get it cleaned up!"

Ainslee looked out to the street. It was early, with only the sounds of the sea crashing the shore in the distance. A flock of gulls rounded on the cliffs, bringing with them their clacking cries. But mainly it was still.

Soon, the fishermen would wake, and push out to sea in their little narrow boats. But not just yet. Stifling a yawn, Ainslee rubbed her eyes and wondered what she had been drinking last night. Everything felt so fuzzy. She should not yet be awake, but with the dry dawn, she spied a chance to be off.

Her father would be missing her, and, more to the point, his breakfast. Gathering her things about her, she looked over to Marisse.

She was still hard asleep, the shape of her chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath her shawl. Despite the basic conditions, she had slept well, although that might have been something to do with the flagons of whiskey doing the rounds in the packed barroom.

Ainslee stared off. Bit by bit, fragments of the previous nightdrifted back; Malcolm.

He had been there, of course. She remembered that much. But now, gradual memories of herself shouting, getting upset, flooded back.

Then it was there;all of it. Her rage, his excuses. The look on his face when she had accused him of leaving her. It was all there. A sweep of nausea overtook her. For a moment, Ainslee thought she would be sick. Then, a fortunate gust of air rattled into the darkened room, bringing relief.

Ainslee took an ice cold gulp of breath. Outside it was freezing, with still snow on the hilltops. On the streets was ice, and traversing them would be tough. Still, at least there was no rain, for which Ainslee was truly grateful.

A sudden question pricked Ainslee. Malcolm; where was he? In a panicky rush, she suddenly realized he was probably here; if not tucked into the hay with the others, then certainly in one of the other rooms.

Heart beating hard, Ainslee ran her eyes through the darkened gloom. It was hard to tell, through the dusky bedchamber, but she did not detect Malcolm"s dark red locks glinting in the light. All the same, the very thought gave her a start. If she did not do anything, he would find her again.

With a renewed purpose, she gathered her shawls, rearranging them quickly. It was cold out, and she was bound to take a chill. Ainslee was so deep in thought, she did not see anyone approaching, so when she felt the touch of a hand, she almost shrieked.

"Och!"

A hand gripped her hard, on her shoulder. Ainslee almost jumped out of her skin.

"Mal!"

Ainslee whipped her head around so fast, she almost strained it.

"I"m afraid nae, hen," came the reply. When Ainslee looked, there was Marisse, grinning at her broadly.

"Och, ye gave me a fright!" gasped Ainslee, her cheeks coloring. "Ye shouldnae do that!"

Marisse wrapped a big cloak around her and shivered. "Tis truly jeelit in here!" she complained, wrapping up tight. "Do they nae have a fire in this place?"

Ainslee thought back to how warm it had been the previous night, then glanced out at the dawn.

"Even more oorlich oot there," observed Ainslee, already beginning to feel her fingers stiffening. The ride home would be undoubtedly frozen, but even so, she wanted to get it done. The sooner she was away from the inn, and Malcolm Duncan, the better.

"So come on, then, let"s get to the stable...," she said, looking keenly at Marisse. "Afore the whole world wakes up..."

Her eyes leveled, Marisse got her meaning.

"The whole world, being Malcolm," she said, understanding. But still, she set about gathering their one or two things.

A few moments later, and they were stealing down the narrow, wooden staircase which led to the hall. Downstairs, all was dark.

No one was up for the day, save the maid-of-all work, busy kindling the fire. Ainslee and Marisse filed past the tiny lass, her back in the air, as she worked.

"I think we"ll make it afore them," nodded Marisse, as they finally reached the streets. Glancing about, Ainslee watched cautiously. The stables were not far from here, and she was anxious to be on her way, without Malcolm Duncan, but she sensed a hesitation from her friend.

It was almost as though she was waiting for them. Ainslee"s mind wandered back to the previous night, to see Marisse and James stealing glances through the packed room. Her eyes rolled to the skies. She might have known it. Marisse had a thing for James!

But the last thing Ainslee wanted to do was wait, so grabbing her friend by the hand, she hurried her along, speeding along the public saloon of The Ship, and almost to the door, when voices stopped them.

"Och, yer losing yer touch, son!"

It was Malcolm"s voice. Ainslee stopped dead. Heart thumping, she tugged at Marisse to hold back. Still in the shadows of the parlor of the inn, she listened to them talk.

"Wheesht!" laughed James, his amused voice filtering through from the street beyond. It took Ainslee a moment or so to realize they were already ahead of them. Nervously, she stood in a quandary.

Glancing at Marisse, she beckoned to her not to pass. James and Malcolm were not far away, mounting horses by the door.

"Nae, lad. Usually yer already wi" a lass, by noo!" Malcolm called. Ainslee felt her heart freeze. She didn"t know why. It was stupid. But it turned her stomach.However, not as much as what was to come.

"Nae mind me! Whit aboot ye!" James retaliated. Squinting through the gap in the door, Ainslee made out a glimpse of Malcolm, bathed in the early morning sun.

Somewhere the dawn was lifting, clearing through the dark. A few gray strands picked out the dark ginger in the depths of his hair. Ainslee felt her chest pang. He looked just the same - there were a few stray lines, wisping around his face. But on the whole, he had not changed from the man she used to know.

But what had happened to him inside? She could only wonder.

"Whit aboot me?" shouted back Malcolm. He sounded jolly and gay. Ainslee was not sure why this bothered her. Perhaps because it didn"t make him seem overly upset about what had happened in any way.

Marisse was on the verge of emerging from the doorway, when Ainslee pulled her back, violently.

"Nae," she mouthed, vehemently.

"I mean, ye ken, yer wee smithy lassie, och, whitshername... Aileena?"

"Ainslee," corrected Malcolm. Hearing him speak her name made her heart ping.

"Ah, aye, the sweet Ainslee," enthused James. Marisse"s sharp eyes met hers. "Well, ye didnae make yer usual splash wi" her, did ye? Went doon like a cup o" pure boak, I"d say!"

Malcolm murmured something, that Ainslee did not hear, but before he could say more, James butted in.

"Nae fash lad. Moar fish in the sea. An" I can help ye find "em. Mind ye, ye dinnae usually need any help, do ye! Remember Dublin!"

Ainslee stood and watched, as loud guffawing came from the pair. Through the gap, she could make out James laughing heartily, as Malcolm grinned and mounted his horse. The pair looked set for their travails.

Hurting deep, Ainslee froze almost into the ground. She could not move. She did not want to move. The last thing she wanted to do was to share a pavement with this man.

Marisse saw her eyes, and squeezed her arm. But in any event, they were forced out, by the little maid opening the inn doors behind them, to shake out her broom.

Unwittingly, they were pushed out, straight onto the drenched and dismal cobbles of the small side alley. Glancing at the skies, Ainslee saw a miasma of gray. No actual rain yet, but a dreich, heavy humidity that penetrated the air.

And her heart.

Wishing desperately not to be anywhere near, Ainslee was indefensible from the thin rays of light cutting their way through the gloom. She was immediately seen by the men.

"Och! Ainslee!" Malcolm"s tone immediately changed. As did his demeanor. But it was all too late. Ainslee had seen and heard enough.

Primly looking down, Ainslee held Marisse"s hand, and led her away to the side. The stables were a long walk around the back of the building, a factor that Ainslee was sincerely grateful for.

Or would have been. If it had not been for the sudden appearance of the stable lad.

"Miss!"

A small lad came trotting beside a pair of dappled ponies. He looked disproportionately pleased with himself, glancing up, Ainslee saw their palfreys being brought forward.

"Yer ponies, ladies," said the lad. He stood, awhile, lingering in front of them. Ainslee was distracted, but eventually Marisse opened her pocket and gave him a small coin.

Blinking, Ainslee came to.

"Thank ye," she said, sharply, taking the reins to her horse. The palfrey was seated up and waiting, right then, the lad"s tip seemed a fair price. Desperate to be on her way, Ainslee slung herself into the saddle, and called to her horse to start moving. Marisse, a little behind, seemed surprised at the speed of her start.

"Come noo," clacked Ainslee, getting ready to leave the dusky backstreet. Above them, the skies were lifting - but only very slightly. Somewhere in the distance, the day was starting.

Yearning to be homeward, Ainslee started anxiously. But Marisse seemed less keen.

Sensing Mal and James behind them, Ainslee bristled uncomfortably. Still, Marisse did not move.

Just about to make the first move, a gravelly voice intercepted them.

"Ladies..."

Ainslee"s blood ran cold. It was Malcolm"s. She rushed to get her reins.

"Ainslee, I..."

In no mood to listen, Ainslee flicked her hair.

"Giddy up," she said, quickly, to the silver palfrey. The tiny mare whinnied, and tried her hardest.

But the large stallion in front blocked them in. The little horse bucked and moaned, as Ainslee burned with rage.

"Whit is it?" she was forced to ask, as Mal"s stallion refused to move.

"Ainslee," said Mal, again, this time softly. Ainslee was not listening. Furiously, she waited, eyes pressed down.

"Ainslee, lass, just hark, will ye? I ken ye dinnae believe it, but I was kidnapped an" taken aboard that boat... an" that oor Bruce was the one to do it... Believe me, lassie... I"m going back to the clan right noo, to have it oot!"

Sharpness entered Ainslee"s heart. A slight doubt formed, and lingered. All the same, it hurt too hard. Stiffly, she shook her head.

"Ainslee!" Malcolm tried again, but her back was turned. Trotting awkwardly about, she struggled, in vain, to point away from Malcolm"s face. She could not look at him. She might find herself weakening.

"Nae," she eventually muttered. "Get tae!"

Silence.

Ainslee shuffled awkwardly in her saddle, as the turning tide became the only sound between them.

Then, the sound of someone dismounting and trudging over broke through. Still avoiding their gaze, Ainslee was forced to stay where she was.

"Hoo there!"

Ainslee immediately turned her head. Fully expecting Malcolm, she braced for the worst. Silently, she pictured seeing his face there, close up.

It was impossible to ignore him for much longer, and despite herself, she had to look.

To her surprise,it was James there, Malcolm"s friend.

This did not really make Ainslee happy, but reluctantly, she shrugged.

"Guid morrow," said James, pleasantly. He was right in front of her. There was no way she could move now without squashing his feet.

"Guid morrow, sir," she said, somewhat stiffly.

She waited for him to leave. Of course, he did not.

Next to her, Marisse, sneaked a look, hiding whenever James turned around. This only racketed

Ainslee"s irritation up more.

Annoyance spilling over, Ainslee took the reins. Meeting James in the eye, she addressed him plainly.

"Excuse me, sir. We must be on oor way..."

"Aye, that is where I think we can help," said James, smiling. Ainslee found herself drawn into his dark smirk. Perplexed, she stared. "Hoo about we give ye ladies an escort... back to the clan..."

Ainslee looked down. She was about to open her mouth to protest, when Marisse cleared her throat.

"I think that would be wise," she said to Ainslee. Reluctantly, Ainslee started.

"Yer pal has reason," said James, amiably.

Behind him, she could feel Malcolm, his eyes staring, boring into her. But she would not give him the satisfaction of turning. She just wouldn"t.

"The roads are nae safe, especially at such an early hour… we were told there are bandits that roam between the coastal parts an" the clans, tis advisable to take the longer road around... that means arriving late... in the dark...," James looked meaningfully at her, and with a sinking thought, she knew he was right.

"Aye, it"s nae safe here since he abandoned us," said Ainslee, with a barbed shot at Malcolm.

Malcolm gave her a pure look, Ainslee did not know how to read it, but he seemed pained.

Good.

A cold satisfaction crept through her. So he would suffer just like she did.

Like they all did, in the Duncan clan since Bruce became laird.

"So allow us to escort ye back to yer clan," said James, a persistent grin on his face. Ainslee looked at Marisse. She nodded.

"We would be pleased to have yer escort, sir," said Marisse, her eyes leveling with James. Ainslee watched them together, wondering.

It seemed like Marisse had wanted him to back off, but something was sparkling.

"Tis oor pleasure, mistress," said James, with a side glance to Malcolm.

Ainslee felt her resolve shrinking. She tried her hardest not to meet Malcom"s gaze. Nodding quickly, she signaled to Marisse.

"Alright then," she said, haltingly. Her head held stiffly. "We will ride together, but that is all...!"

And with that, she tapped her pony and was off.