by Barbara Bard
She sighed and looked up to the stars. “All I remember is that one day we were living in a grand house, then another we were forced to leave and live in servitude. From what my mother said, my father had been in battle and had been incredibly wounded. He thought he was dying, and to save his life he promised anything, including the deed to the land. Somebody tended to his wounds, made him sign a contract, and apparently that was binding. The man saved his life but took everything he owned.”
“Did you not have any way to challenge this?” Rebecca asked.
“None that worked. We were left destitute. My father died not long after, and he made me promise him that I would reclaim our titles. Mother often said that she wished he had died in battle, for at least then we would have held onto our lands and been able to prosper. We went back to try and plead for mercy, but the man who took over the lands was cruel and told us that we didn't belong there any longer.”
“It pains me to know that there are so many people in this world who are unwilling to help others. The solution seems so simple to me. Why can people not simply give aid to those who need it most. Why are there so many people who are bent on revenge?”
“You agree with Adam then?” Elayne said. Her tears had subsided, but she still dabbed at her eyes.
“I do. It seems strange to me that people would be so eager to declare war when it is only going to end in death for so many people. Surely we would all be better suited if we lived in peace?”
“Indeed, we would, but the world does not work in that way. Those in power do not care about us. That is why I hate being a servant. As soon as we had our titles stripped from us it was as though we were nothing. Nobody cared about us, nobody was willing to help us regain our rightful place. We were nobodies,” Elayne said, her words laced with hatred.
“It is not so bad. Perhaps it is better for your own soul to not be involved with these matters,” Rebecca said kindly.
“Don't you see? We are all involved, but the nobility is making the decisions for the rest of us. My only consolation is that I cannot lose any more than I already have. I wish Lady Catherine had returned so that I could have become her maid-in-waiting. My only recourse now is to get close to Lord Flynn.”
“I would caution you against that,” Rebecca said.
“Why?” Elayne asked, looking at Rebecca. Rebecca wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of how much she should say. Most servants held no fear about speaking against their employers between themselves, but Rebecca saw her position as precarious already, and she did not want to say anything that could change that.
“Rebecca, what happened today?” Elayne pressed.
“I was taken to see Lord Flynn because he wanted to know what I knew. I wasn't able to tell him anything of use, but I saw him when the men returned with news that the horses had come back with the dead bodies. Lord Flynn flew into a rage. He holds no affection for his daughter any longer. He holds her responsible for what has happened, and he has declared that they shall all be hanged if they are caught. He has no mercy, and I have no doubt that he will not be satisfied until the entire Highlands are covered in fire.”
“Perhaps it is nothing more than they deserve for all the suffering they have caused,” Elayne said bitterly. Rebecca kept her mouth shut in this instance. It was clear that Elayne blamed the Highlanders for all that had happened to her family. Rebecca did not have much love for the Highlanders, but she didn't think they should all be punished in such a way.
“There are troubling times ahead. The best we can do is to continue with our duties as best we can and hope that God has a good plan for us,” Rebecca said.
Elayne looked at her, disgusted.
“That is why you shall always be a servant. We must take our fate into our own hands. If we don't, we shall never do anything with our lives. You may be meant for a life of servitude, but I am not. I need to do more, and I must act now before this war ruins all my chances,” Elayne said.
Before Rebecca could say anything else, Elayne rose and walked away. Rebecca wished that she could have said something to help, but Elayne's troubles were troubles that had echoed through generations.
Rebecca decided to stay in the gardens for a little while longer, trying to enjoy the peaceful night, for she did not know what the future days held for her. However, she was able to embrace a sense of relief as it seemed that her troubles were over. Now that Lord Athelred was more concerned with finding his daughter, he was less concerned with finding out how she escaped in the first place.
She had no doubt that Catherine and Declan would return to the Highlands as they had intended. Alastar was another matter entirely though. In all likelihood he would travel with them since he was a Highlander too, but Rebecca had to face the possibility that Lord Athelred was correct. If Alastar was a villain, he may well be tormenting the nearby villages. If anything was certain, it was that the promise of war was going to bring chaos to this land, and Rebecca wasn't sure if any of them were going to be free from the suffering that war would bring.
Chapter 13
Alastar walked most of the night until he found a small copse of trees away from civilization. There, he made a bed out of moss and leaves, and rested his head, with his sword by his side. He tired of thinking about the past, for it brought him nothing except pain and anguish. He'd rather think about the future, and his mind was alive with plans.
The first thing he thought was to charge into the estate and challenge Lord Flynn out in the open. The surprise factor would be on his side, and he would likely be able to fight his way into the estate, but once inside escape would be almost impossible, and he would be giving himself right back to Lord Flynn. After having waited so long to escape, he wasn't about to walk straight into a situation where he could easily be captured again.
An alternative was to disguise himself and creep into the estate to kill Lord Flynn as an assassin. If he was careful and calculating Alastar was sure that he would be able to make it through the estate without being captured but killing Lord Flynn in this way would be risky, and unsatisfying. Alastar wanted Athelred Flynn to know who was killing him, and why.
As he thought of all this, he also considered the possibility of simply walking away to the Highlands and continuing his father's good work, but the shadow of the past loomed over him. He knew he would never be able to settle unless he dealt with Lord Flynn.
The night passed slowly. Alastar turned plot after plot over in his mind. Disguising himself seemed the best chance he had, and then he would have to figure out how to deal with Athelred later. The most important thing was getting into a position where he was able to find the man and take his revenge.
Alastar eventually fell asleep for a few hours and woke as the sun rose. Golden light filtered through the gaps in the trees and bathed the world in resplendent warmth. He breathed in the sweet morning air and foraged through the forest for some breakfast, finding some berries and nuts.
His father had taught him long ago how to survive in the forest, and which things were safe to eat. During his forage, he actually found a blue thistle. There was a crop of them
together. Alastar picked up a few, smiling at the reminder of his father. He had made the Blue Thistle a name synonymous with nobility and honor.
Alastar sank to his knees and bowed his head.
“I will make ye proud father. I will make people talk about the Blue Thistle again. After I am done with Flynn, I will continue the work ye started.”
Alastar took the thistles with him as he continued on his journey, walking through the forest until he reached a road, a road that no doubt led to the estate. He walked along the side of the road, making sure that his sword was hidden from view, and that his head was bowed. The last thing he needed was to be apprehended and taken to Flynn.
The morning sun was pleasant. He knew that now he was making his way to the estate he would have to be more careful with whom he spoke. Having a Scottish accent in these parts would send anyone on the alert, and by
now he was sure that the dead bodies had been discovered. Athelred would know that he had escaped captivity.
The only remaining questions regarded the people who had helped him, especially the fair girl who had kept him alive. If her part in the whole affair was uncovered, she would be punished, and Alastar could not let that happen. There was much work yet to be done before he could return to the Highlands, where he could go and pay respect to his mother for the first time in a decade.
While he was walking along the road, he came across some merchants. They were a family, but the man looked older than his years, as though the world had been unkind to them. The woman looked tired too. Only the child, a young girl, looked happy. She wore a smile on her rosy cheeks and her gaze took in everything she could see. They were trundling along behind Alastar, their cart pulled by an old donkey, who looked about as tired as the parents. Alastar stepped back to let them pass. The man looked at him and nodded thanks. Alastar watched the cart go by. The two adults seemed to think him out of earshot as they couldn't see him, and he heard them bickering.
“I told you we should have gone south. That's where Arthur and Emily went, and the last I heard of them they were thinking about opening their own shop! Can you imagine that? No longer would we have to travel the land selling our wares, but we could actually have a home!” the woman said.
“Going south is risky. We know the land up here. We know the people. They speak the same language as us. If we go south, we're just as likely to be laughed out of town. Besides, I wouldn't put much stock in what Emily says. She's always been prone to exaggeration,” the man said.
“Risk? What's riskier than being caught in a war? You remember how it was the last time. It's not going to get any better for us.”
“It will when we go to Lord Flynn and promise him that we can help. We can be a part of his war party. He'll need people to carry weapons and supplies for his army. You can stay at the estate, perhaps work with his servants. Then, when it's over, I'll come and fetch you. Lord Flynn will have seen how I helped him during the war and with his recommendation we'll be have more business than ever,” the man said.
“Well, it's nice to know that you've got it all worked out. I'm glad that me and Elah will be able to be servants. That's the life I always wanted for myself. I never should have listened to you.”
“This is the best thing for us. I've thought about a hundred different things, and this is the only way I see us profiting from this whole thing. This war will be good for us. I won't be fighting in it. I won't be anywhere near the fighting. I'll just be sorting out the supplies. Trust me, I'll come back. It won't be like what happened to your father.”
“Don't even mention my father to me,” she said, and then said something else in a whisper. It was too quiet for Alastar to hear. But once they had confirmed they were going to the Flynn estate Alastar's ears pricked up.
This was his way in.
He crept behind the cart, thankful that the bickering of the couple was distracting them from perceiving his movements. The cart was high, and it was packed with sacks of vegetables and other items. It was a sturdy cart, and it had evidently served the family well.
Alastar smiled as he listened to their bickering. The woman's hushed voice had returned again to its loud, sonorous tones, and he wondered if part of the husband's plan was to get away from his wife. He remembered his father saying that all good marriages needed some time apart. In fact, the couple reminded him a lot of his parents in the way that they argued. He looked at the little girl, sitting at the front of the cart, and wondered if she felt as he had done.
Perhaps she seemed so intrigued by the rest of the world because she wanted to ignore the bickering of her parents. He doubted they realized how much their arguing would affect her. Alastar had always felt that the disputes his parents had were his fault, because they often revolved around his well-being. Yet they never asked him his opinion. It was probably the same for this girl.
His footsteps were soft, as they needed to be if he was going to do everything he intended. He placed his hand on the rear of the cart and bend down, looking at the underneath. The axles looked sturdy, as they would have to be for the wagon to last this long. From a quick glance it looked as though there was enough room for a man to hide, if he was able to hold on for the duration of the journey. The estate wasn't too far off though, and if there was one thing in which Alastar had faith it was his physical prowess, since he had had little else to do during his imprisonment other than exercise.
The only problem was his sword. It would only dangle down from his belt if he was underneath the cart. The obvious solution was to hide it within the goods in the cart, but then there was the chance it would be discovered by the family. Given their situation he doubted they would give him the benefit of the doubt. Rather, they would alert Lord Flynn in the hopes of gaining his favor.
Even if they didn't give Alastar up they would most likely be accused of smuggling a weapon into the estate. Alastar's whole mission revolved around the protection of the innocents, so he did not want anything to put them in danger. They seemed like a hard-working family, who were simply trying to make their way through life. They didn't deserve anything too bad to happen to them.
But this, Alastar knew, was his best chance at getting into the Flynn estate. He measured the pace of the cart and prepared himself to get underneath. He took a deep breath as he placed his hand around his sword, knowing that giving it up would be a big loss. However, as his father had always reminded him, a man who was defenseless with a sword should never go into battle; one can only ever rely on oneself.
With a swift motion, he ripped a piece of cloth from his plaid and tied it around his waist, securing his sword there as tightly as he could. He cursed silently at the sharp sound the ripping cloth made and hoped that nobody had heard. The parents had not noticed, but the girl had. She craned her neck back and saw Alastar just as he was about to creep underneath the cart.
Time stood still as the two of them stared at each other. Alastar's breath caught in his throat. All it would take was one word from the girl and his plan would be ruined. He smiled at her, trying to use his usual charm, and then placed a finger on his lips. The girl giggled a little and mimicked him, nodding enthusiastically. Confident that she would like the thrill of keeping a secret from her parents, Alastar decided to go through with his plan.
He increased the length of his stride to keep pace with the ambling donkey and placed his hand on the rear of the cart. He then counted in his mind, until he was ready to lift his feet and slide them under the cart, where the rested on the axles. The wood ground against his legs, but his clothes prevented the wood from burning his skin. He tensed his muscles as he lowered himself to be completely hidden underneath the wagon, holding onto the slats for support.
For a moment he felt one of them give way as he took hold of it, and he was afraid that the entire thing would come crashing down. The last thing he needed was to destroy a cart and be buried underneath all their goods. He closed his eyes and prayed to the gods to keep him safe, to bless his quest.
The cart held together. He kept hold of the cart, straining his neck aloft as the cart trundled along. The bickering of the adults had faded, and they walked along quietly, when suddenly the woman looked around behind her and expressed confusion.
“Where did that man go?” she asked.
“What man?”
“The man we passed a little while ago.”
“I have no idea. He probably went into the forest or something.”
The girl giggled at this point. Alastar stifled a laugh himself.
He craned his neck around as often as he could to ensure that his muscles didn't get too tired. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he strained to keep himself aloft. The ground loomed beneath him. They weren't going fast enough that if he dropped down he would be injured, but in a way, he wished they were going faster so they would reach the estate sooner.
Alastar kept his eyes on t
he world passing by, finding the void within himself to give him the strength to hold on. Time lost meaning for him as he embraced the emptiness and waited until there was some sign that they were at the estate.
Soon enough the cart came to a stop. Alastar opened his eyes and saw pairs of boots surrounding the cart. They had been stopped at the entrance of the estate.
“What's your business here?” the guard said. Alastar couldn't see the face, but his heart thumped in his chest. All they had to do was look below the cart and he would be discovered, and likely thrown into the dungeon again, if he wasn't executed. He also had to hope that the girl would keep his secret. Keeping it from her parents was one thing, keeping it from formidable, intimidating guards was something else entirely.
Alastar listened intently, making sure that he was prepared for a fight if they discovered him. As long as he was ready to fight, he might be able to flee while they were dealing with the appearance of an intruder.
