Chapter 17

She rose late that day, sleep taking her only when the cockerel crowed. Blinking the sun back madly, Ainslee glanced around.

Panic!

The day had started. The familiar clangs of her father"s anvil were sounding, as were the comings and goings in the smiddy barn. Scrambling from the box bed, Ainslee surveyed the mess.

In the hazy light, the smiddy backroom looked more unloved than previously imaginable. Pulling on her clothes, Ainslee sighed at the debris everywhere.

Pokers, irons, and hammers lay strewn everywhere. Even in the bed, there was a pile of rusty nails. No wonder she couldn"t get comfortable!

Muttering under her breath, Ainslee began to put things right, whilst trying valiantly to put the events of the previous evening from her mind.

"Och, tis as if we live in the smiddy shop itself!" she chided, to nobody, picking up the umpteenth blackened tool, and tutting.

"Tis a whole lot better than a freezing deck!"

The unexpected voice made her turn her head around. There, in the jamb of the door, was James.

"Believe me hen, this wee smiddy is a paradise compared to life on the ocean waves...at least yer bed is nae wet!"

Ainslee grinned, politely, as she quickly gathered the shawls around her frame. She had not quite finished dressing, and been taken by surprise.

Seeing her dressing, James fell back. "Och," he said, blushing. "Excuse me!"

He began to go backwards, out into the adjoining smiddy shop. Idly, Ainslee wondered if Malcolm was still there.

"Nae," said Ainslee, waving at the captain. "Tis nae fash, come on in..."

James came in cagily, "Sorry, lass," he said, looking away. "Ah, um, tis nae fash, but we"refamished, an" wondered if ye"ve any oats, or stuff..."

Ainslee looked up. She was supposed to be bringing food. Chastened, she jumped about, busying herself with the pot in the hearth.

Hurrying, she brought it over to James. After he had wiped his hands, he sat down at the low table, and smiled.

"Thank ye," said James, with an appreciative grin, taking the pottage. Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around the pottage dish, before setting them down onto the main table in front of them.

He lingered for a while, as Ainslee sat there, watching him. Pulling up a stool, she sat beside him.

"Sorry tis tardy," she said, as she sat and watched, as James ate. He dunked a gray hunk of bread into the watery broth, and gulped greedily. "An" so weak..."

James did not seem to be bothered. "Tis braw!" he said, digging in. For a moment, there was silence, punctuated only by extreme slurping, Then, he looked at her.

"Hen, anything that"s hot an" tasty is a muckle load better than anything served at sea!"

James drained his soup dish, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Ainslee hid a wince,

"So, the scran isnae so good, then?" she said, collecting the dishes. Going to the back of the room, she found the bread, and conjured up another couple of hunks. Then, adding a lump of cheese, she carried it over to James.

"Have a wee bit more, then," she said. She did not have to say it twice. James almost took the trancher out of her hands. Swiftly, he wolfed it down.

As he ate, Ainslee poured him some water, which he gladly drank. Watching him, Ainslee pondered quietly. All was clanging away in the smiddy barn, through the way. Ainslee could hear the eternal bangings and occasional grunts of her father, as he labored.

Putting her face towards the door, Ainslee listened. Was Malcolm still in there? Or had he cleared out for the morning? Having two guests in the smiddy barn was not exactly adjacent to the smooth running of a blacksmith"s barn. Watching the captain eat, she wondered how to broach the subject of Malcolm with him.

"Ta, lass...," James did not stand on ceremony, and made short work of the dried barley bread. When he had finished, he pushed the stool back, and sat contentedly. Ainslee, who had been wondering how to talk to him, suddenly did not have to worry.

"Ye ken, lass, he"s told me all about ye," said James, refilling his cup with the remainder of the water. Ainslee, who had been about to offer him a hot drink, froze suddenly.

"Wh...what?" asked Ainslee, self-consciously. She tucked an errant lock of hair back behind her and faced him.

"Nae fash, lass, twas all braw!" winked James, making Ainslee blush. "Yer lad thinks a lot o" ye..."

Ainslee"s heart rushed, but she tried not to show it. "Och, aye?" she said, looking away. Outside, the winds were racing, and a chilling winter"s day was brewing. Ainslee wondered again where Mal had gone. Had he rode already to the Duncan keep?

"An" having seen him here wi" ye, tis clear to see, he wouldnae ha" ever gone anywhere without ye...," James grinned, but his eyes looked serious. Sharply, he glanced at her, before returning to his beverage.

Hurrying to the stove, Ainslee fetched him a fresh cup, this time a hot rosehip tea. Joining him in a cup, she sat down.

"He was dragged away?" Ainslee asked him, her round eyes widening. In truth, she had accepted this before, but she needed to hear it.

"Aye," he said, looking away. Outside, a gust of deep wind took the barn, shaking it wildly. When it had abated, he looked back. "He was sold to the captain, wi" the ship... he"s waited ten years to get back to Scotland..."

James" voice trailed off, as Ainslee cast her eyes over him. He was about the same age as her, but his face was weather beaten. Even so, he retained a handsome shape.

Ainslee looked, uncomprehending. "Ye nae came back at all?" she said, disbelieving. James grunted, then shook his head.

"Nae, we returned to Scotland, but nae to the Highlands... an" twas under the auld captain... a cruel man, he killed a man for trying to flee!" said James, with a laugh.

Ainslee did not laugh. She watched him closely.

"Tis nae funny," she said, primly. James looked at her.

"Yer right, lass," he said, wiping his face. "Tis nae joke. Trust me, this auld man, wasnae someone to cross... an" it wasnae until Malcolm helped that we gave him the boot!"

James" eyes glistened, Ainslee could only guess at what he meant. Before she could ask him, he continued.

"So ye see, I love that man, like he was my own brother, an" when he said take me home to the Highlands, I did so..., now I"m here, I can see why..."

Ainslee watched him and softened. "He didnae tell ye afore?" she said. James shook his head.

"He was quiet," he said, thinking. "I kent there must have been someone, but he nae said... but since getting here, I ken now. He is meant to be wi" ye, an" ye have to believe him, he wouldnae have left ye..."

Ainslee put her hand up, to stop him. "Aye," she said, nodding. "I ken...an" so, James, I must beg ye..."

At the mention of beg,James turned his dark eyes onto her.

"Go on, lass," he said, intrigued. Ainslee stood in front of him.

"James, ye must do everything to help him, please, I cannae lose him again!"

Ainslee stopped talking, her voice trailing off in a sob. Emotion had got the better of her, again. Tutting, Ainslee got herself back in hand. She was shaking. This was not the way she had meant to be.

Standing up, James came over to her. He put his hand softly on her shoulder.

"Wheesht, lass," he said, softly. Ainslee felt herself unraveling. "O" course I will look out for yer man... it goes wi"out saying...Yer man has saved my life over an" over... ye dinnae need to ask, I will watch out for him!"

Gratefully, Ainslee looked at him. "Thank ye," she said, in a wobbling voice. Then, curious, she asked him.

"So, um, afore that, an" on yer adventures, wi" Malcolm...how did he end up saving ye, and how did ye come to be on this ship, wi" the auld, terrible captain, ye ken, the bodach who took Malcolm...ye sound like bandits!"

Her eyes followed him, as he looked away. James appeared to be struggling. With a cold realization, Ainslee saw she had unsettled him. James fiddled with his cup.

Then, he stood up.

"Well, I thank ye for the scran," he said, with a brief smile. "An" nae fash, lass, about yer man, I"ve got his back!"

And with that, James walked out of the room,exiting to the winter gusts beyond. Watching him, Ainslee could only wonder what she said wrong.

* * *

She foundhim in the stables, just across from the smiddy. He was there, stroking his black stallion, thoughtfully. At the sound of the barn creaking, Malcolm looked up.

"Ainslee!"

Malcolm shot his head immediately in her direction, as Ainslee came in.

Butterflies were creeping in her stomach. This morning had been a disaster. She had argued with Malcolm, and upset his friend. Not bad for half a morning"s work!

Scanning everything with her head, Ainslee resolved to take stock; and put things right between them. The only problem was getting it out of her mutinous lips. Every time they opened they scuppered her.

Stepping forward, Ainslee tried her best. "Mal, I,"

She didn"t get any further. Malcolm was moving toward her, with a look of death on his face.

"Ainslee, I"m sorry," said Malcolm, disarming her with his rueful look. His face seemed so open, that she could not dash his hopes.

Ainslee waited, as Malcolm carried on.

"I didnae mean to hurt ye, or to take ye for granted. I shouldnae been so unseemly, the fault is all mine... I need to try harder to resist ye, until we are properly betrothed...!"

Surprise flashed through Ainslee"s eyes.

I thought we already were, she began to say. But shock rendered her mute.

"A second time," added Malcolm. Perhaps he saw the look in her eyes. Ainslee, who was standing, suddenly felt a need to sit down. Leaning against a wooden beam, she crouched.

Automatically, Malcolm brought himself to her height. Now the two of them were sitting, side by side. Ainslee felt his body heat through his slender leine, and squirmed. Being this close was uncomfortable. His breath was on her chin. Shuffling awkwardly backwards, Ainslee froze.

"O" course, that"s if ye still want to?" said Malcolm, with an uncertain glance.

"Nae...Aye, um," started Ainslee, uncertain. Of course, she wanted to be with him, but things were racing around her head. She needed assurance, and lots of it.

Smiling, Malcolm edged back. If he was disheartened, he did not show it. Instead, he faced her, in contemplation.

"Anyhoo, tis braw ye found me, I was just coming to seek ye!" he said. He dusted himself down, and pulled on the nearby brat, which shrouded him. A chill ran through the barn, as a flurry of sleet blew in. Ainslee shivered.

"Och," said Ainslee, a drift catching her hair. She pulled the curl from her eye.

"Aye, because I didnae want us to part on bad terms," said Malcolm. Ainslee looked up. At the mention of part, her heart thumped hard.

"Whit?"

"I"m going, Ainslee," said Malcolm, his face shining. Ainslee tried not to look again. She didn"t want to connect with his eyes. He might see the real feelings deep inside.

But she must have looked at him, just a sideways little glance; it was enough to spark her.

"Nae fash lass, it"s nae for long," said Malcolm, directing her attention toward him. Ainslee could not now look away.

"Wh...where are ye going?" She was attempting to sound blase, but failing completely. Watching Mal, she tried to look calm. "The captain, he said that..."

"Nae, tis nae the boat," said Malcolm, smiling. "But tis time I went to the Duncan keep..."

"But, Malcolm!" started Ainslee. Every force in her body was calling her, to stop him. "Bruce, he isnae there, yet..."

Malcolm grew closer. His gaze honed in on her face. Slowly, he brought his index finger to her cheek. Then he stopped.

"But tis nae use, he isnae there," she repeated, seeing the incredulity in his eyes. Mal just blinked; his face blank and wan.

"What is this?"

Suddenly, his fingers were on her chin, pressing and exploring. Swiftly, he ran his fingers all around her cheek, stroking it gently. Then, he alighted on the smooth scar, running across the middle of her face.

"What"s what?" said Ainslee, not understanding. She was still too caught up in what he had just said. Why was Malcolm going? Had he heard nothing that she had told him?

"This scar, on yer face, how did ye get it?"

Intense suspicion brooded on Malcolm"s face. He watched her closely. Ainslee, feeling the heat of his gaze, was taken by surprise.

"This?" she said, tracing the outline with her fingertips. In truth, she had all but forgotten about the scratch Bruce had given her. Or was it a bruise? She could not really tell.

"Och, tis been there a while, perchance tis just coming oot," she turned away from his penetrating gaze. "I cannae believe ye didnae see it..."

"I didnae," said Malcolm, never lowering his gaze. In flashes, Ainslee saw his expression; steely and suspicious.

"How did ye come by it?"

"Och, twas the first time I delivered the sword," said Ainslee, tutting. "Tis naething..."

Malcolm took her hand. "Tis nae naething, if someone hurts ye!"

Ainslee looked up to him. His green eyes were staring hard. Truculently, he continued to stare.

"Tell me who it was, an" I will kill him!" demanded Malcolm, in a low voice.

Uncomfortable, Ainslee was backed into a corner. She did not like what she saw. Mal"s eyes glistened with hatred. This was not the man she knew.

A sick bile crept into her gullet. Malcolm stared.

Fretting, she deflected. "Och, wheesht!"

"Tell me!"

It was more of a roar. Ainslee shrank back from him. She had never seen him like this before. Malcolm was in front of her, seething and raging. But it was silently. Something about it unnerved her like never before. As she watched, the hate danced in his eyes.

He was livid, almost wild.

"Ainslee, lass, who did this to ye!" he demanded. Right then, Ainslee did not want to tell him, but then he looked at her, unsure.

"Is there another man, lass?" he asked, his fiery breath crackling in his throat. "Did he do this?"

Ainslee shook her head. It was natural, perhaps, for Malcolm to think she had someone else, but the amount of hate involved in it unsettled her.

Watching his face, Ainslee sighed. "Nae, nae other man," she said, shortly. His eyes reached to hers, but she looked away, abruptly.

"Twas just Bruce, on the first day I delivered the blade to him," she said, finally.

There was a moment; an intense silence descended upon the barn. For a minute, Malcolm said nothing. Then, grabbing the new sword, he moved toward her, resolute.

Ainslee felt her heart turn cold. This was not the man she knew. Blinking, Ainslee watched Malcolm transform. With a sinking heart, she realized there was no way back for him. He was lost. And so was she.

"An" I will deliver the blade back to him - in his throat!"