by Barbara Bard
“Lass, what are ye daeing? Get back here!” Alastar said in a harsh whisper. He did not move for fear that he would provoke the wolf. If the wolf made any dangerous movements Alastar was too far from Rebecca to pull her away.
“Come on, come here,” Rebecca encouraged. The wolf seemed wary at first, mirroring Alastar's reaction, unsure if he should trust Rebecca. Rebecca nodded her head. Slowly, the wolf took steps towards her and then was standing right next to her. As she looked at the wolf, she noticed its thick gray fur, and its beautiful eyes.
She pressed her hand into the wolf's fur and stroked its back, scratching it around the neck and ears. The wolf responded to this with great delight, closing its eyes and growling with contentment. Rebecca giggled a little as she felt its hot, stale breath tickle her skin. She glanced back at Alastar.
“There are other ways to deal with things than killing them,” Rebecca said with a smile. Alastar took his hand from his sword, although he still looked ready to leap into action at any moment, not trusting the wolf at all.
“Aye lass, but ye are lucky that is a young wolf. If it were a full-grown one ye would be dead.”
Rebecca patted the wolf for a little longer before she heard a soft howl in the distance. The wolf pricked up its ears and turned in the direction of the noise. It pulled away from Rebecca and scampered back in the direction it had come, but before it disappeared completely it looked back at Rebecca as if to say goodbye, and then leaped into the bushes.
Rebecca placed her hands on her thighs as she rose and exhaled deeply.
“Well, I can honestly say I never thought I would be talking with a wolf.”
“Ye were lucky. Next time ye may nae be sae fortunate,” Alastar warned.
“If I'm to stay in these woods then I shall have to learn how to make peace with the wildlife. I am not like you. I do not want to strike down anything that poses a threat. I believe there is always an alternative.”
“Sometimes aye there is, but sometimes the only end is the final one,” Alastar said, his voice sounding heavy again.
“Alastar, I want to ask you this once, just once, and I want you to give me an honest answer. Do you really think you have to kill Lord Flynn? I know that the man has caused you great pain, he has caused great pain to many, but is there no room for a treaty to be struck?” she asked.
She half-expected Alastar to get angry with her, but instead he sounded resigned to his fate.
“There is nae room in Lord Flynn's heart for mercy. I hae tae kill him, nae just for my father, but for every man out there. If I kill him the war is over, and this feud can be ended. Lord Flynn is the one who hae stoked the fire. With him, the flame will be extinguished.”
“I understand,” Rebecca said, and for the first time she truly did. It was clear now that Alastar didn't only want Lord Flynn dead for mere vengeance. Rebecca just wished that somebody else could do it. Now that she had shared intimacy with Alastar she didn't want him to put himself in danger, but she also knew that he wouldn't be the man she had fallen in love with if he didn't put himself at risk.
It was a paradox, but then, love often was.
Now that the wolf left them alone, they resumed their search for the plant. Rebecca continued to hope that she would know it when she saw it, but in truth most of the plants looked the same to her.
“I never saw any of these plants in Lord Flynn's gardens,” Rebecca said.
Alastar scoffed. “Lord Flynn hated us sae much that he nae even wanted our plants in his home.” He found the whole thing amusing and began to laugh.
Suddenly, he fell silent. He pushed his way through some bramble. Prickles and thorns scratched his skin, but he didn't even seem to notice them as he reached up and pulled out a small plant, which looked exactly as he had described.
“Is that it?” Rebecca asked.
“It is indeed,” Alastar replied, grinning. They made their way back to the village with haste. As soon as they returned, Alastar instructed them to heat some water over a fire. He went to the boy's side and knelt, waiting for the water to be brought to him. Rebecca stayed with the mother, offering her comfort. Rebecca dearly hoped this would work. The loss of a child was always devastating, for there was always so much life left to live.
A jug of steaming water was brought in, along with an empty cup. Alastar tore away a thick leaf and began to strip it away. Then, he placed the leaf in between the heels of his palms and squeezed it over the cup. Rebecca looked on with interest as she watched the thick, viscous sap drip from the leaf. Alastar did this with all the leaves, and then poured in the water. He swirled the mug around and dipped his finger in to ensure that it was properly mixed. Then, he tasted the remnants that lingered on his finger before he tilted the boy's head up and placed the cup to his lips.
Since the boy was so weak, much of the liquid fell around his chin and onto the bed, but enough of it seemed to get into the boy's mouth. He coughed a little, and then Alastar placed his head back onto the pillow.
What she witnessed almost seemed like a miracle, for Rebecca saw the boy's color improve before her eyes. He had been deathly pale, covered in beads of cold sweat, but he seemed better instantly.
The mother left Rebecca's side and went up to Alastar, thanking him profusely.
“He should be fine now, but if he does nae improve then dae the same again. He'll soon be causing ye trouble again,” he said with a smile. The mother was almost crying with relief, and embraced Alastar tightly, her small body shuddering with emotion.
Alastar managed to extricate himself from her grip and made his way out of the small hut where the horses were waiting for them.
“It is time for use tae leave,” Alastar said.
“Farewell Alastar,” the leader of the village said. “Farewell Blue Thistle.” He took Alastar's hand and shook it vehemently. Alastar was proud to be called the Blue Thistle. He pulled Rebecca up to his horse and they made their way out of the village, on their way to meet the McCalls.
Chapter 27
Alastar gripped the reins tightly. The horses' hooves thundered across the ground, but still he was not going as fast as he would have liked. However, he couldn't risk traveling across the open roads and empty fields, not yet, not while there was a chance of running into English patrols. They were still in dangerous territory, and if they didn't make it back to the McCalls then the Highlands were doomed, and Alastar would not let that happen.
The feeling of Rebecca's arms around his waist brought him great comfort. In the end, he was glad that she had defied him and chosen to stay. He only hoped that it would not cost her life.
The sun traveled across the sky as they rode the horse to exhaustion, only stopping when they were in dire need of food and water. Alastar hardened his heart to their plight. He had endured years of imprisonment; he could endure a tough journey as well. It was taking its toll on Rebecca and the horse though, but he could not afford to give them too much leave.
Alastar was the one who told them to keep moving, cutting short the respite they had earned. He pushed them forward, knowing that a matter of moments could be the difference between life and death.
He had hoped to make it to the McCall clan before nightfall, but that had been a generous estimate. They fell short, and had to make camp in the darkness, the moon shone upon them and the night was quiet. Although Rebecca had spent some time in the forest, she was still afraid of what lurked in the shadows.
She cuddled up to Alastar and they shared a blanket, using the warmth of their bodies to heat each other. The night fell away as they lost themselves in soft kisses. Alastar held Rebecca's soft body against his, enjoying the weight and companionship. He understood now why his father had placed so much important on his relationship with Alastar's mother, and why he would have gone to the lengths of giving up his role as the Blue Thistle.
Alastar waited until Rebecca had fallen asleep before he closed his eyes and let himself fall into slumber. This time he had allowed them the risk of ha
ving fire. The farther they got into Highland territory, the more unlikely it was that they would find an English patrol. Most likely, Lord Flynn was summoning all his forces together to make one onslaught on the Highlands, a swift strike to end the threat of the Highlanders for generations to come.
The fire crackled and danced beside them. Rebecca looked beautiful, her chest rising and heaving with each breath. She had shown much fortitude, and Alastar hoped she realized how strong she truly was. She would be tested in the coming days. They all would.
That night, Alastar was not haunted by nightmares. He slept soundly, and when he awoke, he smiled as he gazed upon Rebecca's beautiful visage. It was tempting to let her rest for the time being, but they had to make haste.
He nudged her awake and welcomed her into the rosy morning. She stirred, yawned, and then kissed him lightly and lovingly on the cheek.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Better than I have in a long time,” he admitted.
“I am pleased to hear that. You should not be plagued by such horrors night after night, especially when the threat of war looms. That is horror enough.” The two of them remained quiet for a few moments, then Rebecca spoke again in an attempt to get their minds away from the fate awaiting them. “Do you think we'll make it to the McCall clan today?”
“If we make good time, we should be there for an evening meal,” Alastar replied. He noticed that Rebecca looked a little nervous. “Are ye well, lass?”
“I am, although I am somewhat anxious about going to this clan. I am English after all.”
“Aye, but it seems as though they have a soft spot for ye. I am sure ye will be most welcome,” he said, trying to reassure her. Rebecca smiled at him, although it was clear that her fears were not allayed.
“In truth,” Alastar added, “I think ye shall be more welcome than I.”
“Why do you say that?” Rebecca asked, surprised.
“I am a Highlander without a clan. The strength of a Highlander is usually derived from the size of a clan, which is why the McCall’s are the strongest. If ye are a strong clan then ye may include others nae of ye family, and ye will get even stronger.”
“But your father chose to live alone.”
“Aye, our family was nae big. Da could have sought of distant kin tae make us strong, but he wanted tae walk his own path, and sae shall I. But other Highlanders dinnae understand.”
“I'm sure they will if you explain it to them. And don't forget that you are not alone,” Rebecca said, placing her hand upon his. Alastar smiled and was instantly taken by a desire to have her. He wrapped his strong arms around her and hauled her to the ground. They rolled over, ending up beside the ashen ground where the fire had died. Rebecca was on top of him, his arms were around her waist, pinning her to him. Strands of her hair tickled his face and he had never seen a more beautiful sight.
She leaned in to kiss him, and he felt the manly stirrings surging through his body. There was nothing he wanted more than to take her, but he had a duty.
She kissed him ardently, but he pulled his face away.
“I wish we could lass,” he said, caressing the side of her face.
“But we have to get to the McCalls,” she said, finishing his thought for him. She bowed her head, pressing her forehead against his, then kissed him deeply. “But I will be waiting, and anticipating,” she said, lowering her voice into a very teasing and tempting tone. Alastar smiled and kissed her again.
“Ye will be the death of me lass, and a very welcome death it will be.”
She rolled off him and stood up, then held his hand, helping him off the ground as well. They ate a little bit more food, and it was a mercy they were close to the McCall’s, for they were almost out of supplies, and they had been rationing them out carefully as well. It had been a long time since Alastar had been around his people, and he found the prospect rather daunting.
They got back on the horse and started to make the final part of their journey. There were no incidents on the way, for which Alastar was extremely grateful. They only stopped once, in the afternoon, to give the horse some much needed rest and to finish off the last of their rations.
“Ye hae been a sturdy companion,” Alastar said, patting the horse on its neck. The mighty beast had carried them a long way. The more he looked at Rebecca the more he wished he could take her then and there without having to wait until they had reached the McCall’s, but although his primal impulses were strong, he could not allow himself to surrender to them. There was far too much at stake, and he wouldn't be a very good hero at all if he allowed his personal desires to get in the way of his mission.
So, reluctantly, he composed himself and held his body firm, telling himself that as soon as he was able, he would take Rebecca again, and there would be no end to the passion they would share. For as long as he was alive, at least.
He tried not to think of it too often, but there was a chance that another Blue Thistle could fall at the sword of Lord Flynn, if he wasn't careful.
Alastar slapped Rebecca on the rump as he helped her on the horse, and she gave him a coy smile. She had certainly lost some of her demure nature as she had become more comfortable with him. In many ways, she was beginning to reflect the Highlands, hard and beautiful, and he wondered if she realized how much she fit in.
They rode hard, and then, as the sky was beginning to burn red and the sun was dipping below the horizon, the McCall castle came into view. The stout rocky building, set against a valley, filled Alastar with pride and yearning. The small castle was gray and dark, and its windows looked like shadows. On first sight it looked a grim place, especially compared with the grandeur of Flynn's estate, but Alastar knew they would receive far better hospitality from the people here.
They rode up. There were people camping outside the castle, feasting on meat and ale. Alastar felt Rebecca cling to her even more tightly than before. He patted her hand, reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. A few people noticed them, but nobody said anything.
“Where can I find the McCall’s?” Alastar asked. He was pointed to the castle and was told they were enjoying a family feast.
They led the horse up and then alighted near the castle door, fastening the horse and handing it off to an attendant who would see the horse was well-fed and nourished. Rebecca followed dutifully, keeping close to Alastar as he entered the castle and followed the sounds of feasting.
He went through some heavy wooden doors. The sounds of laughter and joy filled the castle, and the warmth from a hearth made the air cozy. They walked into the feasting hall. At first, nobody paid them any attention, for they were all caught up in the merriment of being together. Alastar saw Declan sitting with Catherine. The others he did not recognize. It was Catherine who saw them first.
“Rebecca!” she cried out and rose. Alastar smirked. Catherine's words silenced the rest of them. Declan beamed when he saw Alastar. The two of them came towards them and embraced them tightly.
“It seems as though ye hae made up for lost time,” Alastar said, gesturing to Catherine's pregnancy.
“It just happened,” Declan said sheepishly. Alastar slapped him on the back and embraced him again. He had few friends in this world, so it was pleasing to be able to reunite with one of them.
“I'm glad ye are here. I feared I would never see ye again,” Declan said.
“Who is ye friend Declan?” one of the other men boomed out. He was sitting in the middle of the table, looking brutal and intimidating. The man sitting next to him looked similar, but a little leaner, and they each had a woman by their side.
Declan looked back, having forgotten himself in the moment.
“This is the man who helped us escape, the prisoner. This is,” he turned to look at Alastar and noticed the new blue-dyed clothes the man was wearing. A look of realization came upon his face, “The Blue Thistle?”
“The name is Alastar,” Alastar said, grinning and nodding towards the two men, knowi
ng that it was important to pay his respects, smiling towards Declan though. He was grateful to be called the same as his father. Alastar walked up to the two men and bent his knee, placing his hand upon his heart. Declan scurried after him and made the introductions, telling Alastar about Blair, Rosemary, Drew, and Sarah.
“I am sorry for interrupting ye supper,” Alastar said.
“The Blue Thistle ye say? I heard about ye during the war,” Blair said. “Declan, fetch Alastar and Rebecca some food,” he added. Alastar nodded in thanks. Rebecca was led forward by Catherine and perched on a chair. Declan quickly brought over some food and placed it in front of them. Alastar took one mouthful, but what he had come here to say could not wait.
